“Not really, no.” My boots kick at the gravel on the ground and I sigh at the sun as it heads towards the horizon. “I thought for sure I would have found a place I felt at least a bit comfortable in, but nothing doing so far.”
Phoenix grunts. “Are you getting laid at least? The rest of us are living vicariously through you, so don’t let us down.”
A chuckle escapes my mouth and it feels good to smile. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” I lie to him. There’s nothing to tell.
“So that’s a big fat no,” he grumbles. “Come on man. You’ve got to live a little for the rest of us. You know how hard it is to meet up with a woman while you’re on assignment.”
Putting the gas hose back in its cradle, I nod knowing full well Phoenix can’t see me. “Yea, I remember.”
“Well, if you happen to stumble upon a town with some lovely ladies looking to get with some gruff assholes, you let us know okay?” He asks. There’s some mumbling on his end and I hear a sigh come over the line. “Look, Skip. I gotta go. Ride safe.”
“Stay safe yourself, and pass that on to the rest of the guys too.” Not being able to be there to help protect what little family I’ve known feels wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have retired so hastily.
“Will do. Talk later.” Phoenix ends the call, not even waiting for a goodbye. It doesn’t bother me. When you work as closely as we have over so many years, you develop a kind of shorthand and know that not every conversation needs a formal sign off.
After a quick trip to the restroom, I’m back on the road heading east. Another two hours later, my stomach is growling and I decide that now is as good a time as any to stop for some dinner. I’m in Oklahoma and near the base of some mountain I don’t know the name of when I see a sign for a town called Juniper Hollow.
As I steer off the highway, I make my way down the main drag, taking in the run down look of the town as I ride. The place definitely has the feel of having been forgotten by time. The siding on the buildings is peeling and the houses look damn near ready to be condemned.
I’m not one to scare easy, but this town looks even a little rough for my tastes. My stomach growling again reminds methat beggars can’t be choosers, and I pull into the parking lot of one of the few places around here that actually looks occupied by people.
As I park my bike and pull off my helmet, I take a look at the building in front of me. Wild West is the name of the establishment that looks wilder than the name indicates. The door looks like it’s practically falling off its hinges and the painted bricks look faded, some even looking busted up from a run in of some kind. It’s a good thing I’m military trained and haven’t missed a workout since retiring because it looks like it might come in handy in a place like this.
Careful not to pull the door too hard so that it falls off, I head inside and take a look around the room. The atmosphere is smoky despite there not being a single lit cigarette in the joint. The walls are black, the floor is bit sticky, and the patrons look about as friendly as a pit full of rattlesnakes. Even with all that going on, I make my way to a battered leather stool at the bar and get ready to order.
The room is warm, so I shuck my riding jacket and place it on the stool next to me. After a quick glance at the limited menu, I order a cheeseburger with fries and a cold beer from the disgruntled looking bartender. The man looks older than dirt but is built like a brick shithouse, so I don’t give him any trouble. I just want to eat a meal and get back on the road. Clearly, I won’t be finding the home I’m looking for in a place like this.
My fingers tap on the bar as I wait for my meal and nurse my beer. Just as the bartender places my platter of food on the bar, the door swings open and bangs loudly against the wall. The noise draws my attention over, and the sight before me has my eyes widening and my cock stirring to life once more.
Standing in the doorway is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her fiery red curls drape against the porcelain skin of her chest, and what a chest it is. The woman’s ample bosom is on display for the whole room in her low cut, backless tank, and I long to cover her up with my motorcycle jacket so that no one else can see what’s mine.Mine?I think to myself for a moment before deciding, yes, this woman is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“Sorry about that,” she says, her tone slightly defiant as she steps more into the room, her short skirt showing off thick thighs I want to bury my face in and her hips swaying in a way that has me curling my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing them, pulling her into me so that she can feel just how hard and ready for her I am already.
I don’t even know this woman’s name and she is already getting more of a reaction from me than anyone ever in my whole life. Thank god I stopped in this little pit of a town so that I could finally meet my one and only. Now, all I have to do is introduce myself, then we can start on our happily ever after.
Chapter Three
~Scarlett~
The online gallery that I looked at earlier today is nothing like the bar that I’m currently standing in. This place looks old as hell and has been kept up about as well as the crawl space back at the homestead. The walls are dark, the paint is peeling, and is that smoke I see? Smoking indoors has been illegal in Oklahoma for at least a decade, so unless this place has a fog machine, the bar hasn’t been aired out since I was in middle school.
Glancing around the large room at the clientele doesn’t really ease the knot of worry in my stomach either. Everyone in the room looks pretty rough and like they could shiv you at any moment. No wonder my brother’s didn’t want me coming to this place. My instincts are telling me to run back outside and see if Stewy is still around to give me a ride home, but I’m still miffed enough about how Sawyer brushed me off earlier to stick it out.
Movement at the bar has me looking over there, and my eyes widen when I see the behemoth of a man that is currently staring at me, a smirk on his face. He’s handsome, there is no doubt about that. His light brown hair is cut neatly, there’s a little silver at the temple, which tells me this man is experienced and has seen a thing or two.
There’s the shadow of stubble on his face and he’s wearing a tight tank that shows off ripples of muscle along his arms and shoulder as well as what looks to be a military tattoo on his left arm. The man is yummy personified, but when his eyes rack over my body and his smirk widens, my feelings go from warm and tingly to a little hostile.
The outfit I chose for my night out shows a good amount of flesh, flesh including rolls on my stomach and dimples on my thighs. I’ve heard on more than one occasion that I should cover up, hide my body away, but I like the way I look and if this guy has a problem with it, he’ll just have to suck it up and deal.
Before I know what I’m doing, my feet are carrying me over to the man in question until I’m standing directly in front of him. His eyes move over my body again, this time much more slowly and I shiver at the thought that maybe he actually likes what he sees. Could that be possible?
Most guys that look like him don’t go for girls that look like me. Oh well, their loss not mine. Clearing my throat draws the man’s attention up to my eyes, and I have a hard time finding my voice as I stare into the dark grey depths of his irises. It’s like being caught up in a thunderstorm, except I don’t want to seek shelter, I want to run right into the middle of it.
When I finally find my voice, I prop my fists on my hips and shoot my most intimidating look his way. “I couldn’t help notice you staring at me. Do you have a problem with the way I’m dressed or something?”
A low chuckle escapes his chest and he holds his palms up. “Slow down there, Firecracker,” he commands, the low timbre of his voice sending another shiver down my spine. The man clocks it and the grin on his face widens. Damn, he has a gorgeous smile surrounded by full lips that I want to suck on, maybe bite a little.
Before I can travel down that lusty rabbit hole, he’s talking again. “The only problem I have with the way you’re dressed is that there are far too many people in this room getting a peek at what belongs to me.”
