He gives her arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry. It’s an occupational hazard. At least tonight I’m cleaning up after a polite regular instead of the usual burly cowboys who treat spilling drinks like a competitive sport.”
If he didn’t have a wife and kids waiting at home, I’d be itching to tell him to back off—but as it stands, I’m glad he’s comforting her.
Once Ryker finishes cleaning down the bar top, he starts sweeping up the shattered glass on the floor. Luckily, it’s all on his side of the bar, so he doesn’t have to worry about drunken patrons stepping into it and adding to the mess.
When I glance back at Birdie her glum expression has me on my feet in an instant.
I put on my hat and make my way over, and it’s then that I notice her lace-trimmed camisole dips low enough to tease a hint of cleavage. Her top is tucked into a leather miniskirt she’s paired with black knee-high boots. She’s fucking stunning. Even after the incident, guys are eyeing the open chair beside her, as if debating whether to risk joining her. There’s no chance I’m letting that happen. She sways in her seat, squinting at her cocktail that miraculously made it out unscathed.
With my beer in hand, I drop onto the stool.
“Hey, troublemaker, what’s with the sad face?”
She groans when she sees me. “Ugh. What are you doing here, Walker?”
“Good to see you too,” I deadpan, taking a sip of my drink.
“Save the small talk.” She props her elbow on the counter with her cheek pressed into her fist. “Don’t pretend you didn’t witness me ruin my last shot at getting laid tonight.”
“Come again?” I almost choke on my beer.
“I was trying to find a guy to hook up with,” Birdie states casually, as if she were ordering dessert rather than announcing she showed up at the bar to pick up someone.
Damn, she’s got zero filter when she’s had a few drinks. No wonder Briar and Charlie usually make her the designated driver when they go out.
“That was reckless.” I point out the obvious. “What were you thinking?”
She downs the last of her cocktail in one gulp before jabbing a finger at me. “Oh, come on. You’re the poster child for one-night stands, so you don’t have any business judging me.”
I lift my hands in defense. “Hey, no judgment here. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
The truth is, picturing her in someone else’s bed sends a sharp pang through my chest, and I rub at it instinctively. She might not be mine, but my body refuses to believe it.
Birdie snickers. “Please. I’m not some fragile thing you have to protect. And considering this is your usual hunting ground, it can’t be that dangerous.”
Touche.I don’t bother correcting her that it’s been a long time since I’ve picked up a woman. Even if I did, I doubt she’d believe me, especially if I explained why.
“Is it really so wrong that I wanted to be spontaneous for once?” she mutters, frowning at her empty glass. “I’m tired of being a virgin and am done sitting around waiting to do something about it.”
My eyebrows shoot up, and I lean back, staring at her in disbelief. “I’m sorry. You’re awhat?”
“I’m a virgin,” she repeats, loud enough to turn a few heads.
I shift closer, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.
“Are you telling me no one has touched you?”
She shakes her head, eyes locked on mine. “I… well, no. That’s why I figured I should just get it over with tonight.”
My fingers trail down her cheek. “That’s not something to check off like part of a to-do list. You should be cherished and adored your first time, and anyone worthy of you would know that.”
Her lips part slightly, her breathing shallow as she takes in my remark.
I knew she was inexperienced, but I hadn’t considered that she might be a virgin. I figured she’s had at least one bad experience that left her wary of men and sex. It’s not exactly a topic that comes up when I’m in the checkout line at the feed store or when we’re at the ranch with my sister.
Birdie might think she wants a quick fuck, but I’m confident she’ll regret it. And after the shit Dalton just pulled, something tells me he’s not that guy.
“Is it really that big of a deal?” she asks, leaning forward in her chair, giving me a better view of the swells of her breasts. “Surely all men are the same in bed.”
