CHAPTER 1
Gia
“That’s quite the sour expression on your face.” The deep voice interrupts my internal musing.
“I swear to fuck, if the next words out of your mouth are ‘you should smile more,’ I will throat punch you Melissa McCarthy-style.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch the man dropping his head back in a full-body laugh. His reaction surprises me. So much so that I actually turn to look at him instead of ignoring him like I’d planned.
I wait for the inevitable moment of recognition. With a famous identical twin sister, I can rarely go anywhere without someone mistaking me for her.
But oddly, it never comes.
Bright blue eyes, filled with mirth, sparkle at me, and behind that is a bucketful of attraction I can’t help but return.
My gaze roams up to the messy brown hair on his head, then down to the worn button-down and jeans. All that’s missing is a… Nope. There’s the cowboy hat on the bar top. This man isn’t playing dress-up to get attention, he’s a certified cowboy. Fitting for this tiny town in Colorado. I think there might be more cows here than people.
At any other point, I’d be all in on flirting with this sexy-as-fuck man. And while I’m not opposed exactly, tonight is just different. I’ve been attempting to drown my loneliness with vodka since I walked in, which doesn’t usually lend itself to feeling flirty. Although the way this man is oozing sex appeal might convince me otherwise.
“I suppose that would include any other variation of the phrase as well?”
“Let’s just say any use of the word ‘smile’ would result in a violent response.”
Blue-eyes grins. “What if I were going to offer to buy you a drink with no strings attached?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’d say that’s highly unlikely. There are very few men who would buy a woman a drink without expecting something in return.”
“Maybe I’m one of the few.”
“Are you?”
He shrugs. Brownie points for not automatically saying yes. “My word only goes so far with a stranger. I also recognize the expression on your face. It’s one I’ve seen in the mirror more often than I care to admit.”
“Wow. A man who can share his feelings? You might’ve just convinced me.”
The bartender comes over at the man’s wave. “What can I get ya, Holt?”
Holt. Now that’s a solid name for a man. “Another beer for me and whatever she’s drinking.”
“Vodka soda.” The words are out before I think better of it. This is probably the worst decision I could make, but in the five minutes we’ve been talking, he’s helped more than the vodka has in the last hour.
Is it smart to stave off loneliness with a meaninglessone-night stand? Probably not, but I’ve had enough to drink that it’s starting to sound like a decent idea, especially if sexy cowboy here lives up to the big dick energy he’s putting out.
Once our drinks are placed in front of us, I expect the man to say something else, but he just sits quietly next to me. It’s making me itchy. Like my insides are squirming with the need to keep his attention.
Which is wholly out of character. I’m the type of girl who doesn’t have to try very hard for a man’s attention. Once I’ve decided to flirt, they’re hooked.
Holt seems to be perfectly content to have bought me a drink and leave it at that. He said that’s what he intended to do in the first place, but I didn’t honestly believe he meant it.
Now, I’m not so sure I want him to mean it. I kind of liked the way he smiled at me. It was genuine instead of goal-oriented.
I find myself explaining, “I thought I needed time alone. My friends all left this afternoon, and I decided to stay an extra night.”
“What brought you to Pine Creek Falls?”
I smile at the memory. “Letters from the late 1800s, if you can believe it.”
“How’d that come about?”
