I glanced up at the owner of the smoky, feminine voice and stopped dead in my tracks.
Holy God, she was gorgeous. Not in, like, a classically pretty way, but more of a sucker punch to the throat kind of way. She had a predatory grace in the way she moved, reminding me of a panther.
Long, midnight colored hair with a single chuck of icy blonde that gave off the illusion of a split dye fell in thick waves down to her full, hourglass shaped hips. She had the most gorgeous deep, coppery tan that made her look like her skin glowed against her dark clothes. Her right arm was covered from shoulder to fingertips in gorgeous grey and black ink. I couldn’t tell what from the distance, but I think I saw some feathers and flowers mixed in there.
“We aren’t currently, miss. There might be a couple places in town, though. What all can you do? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.”
I tried to be discreet as I watched the conversation unfold. Mostly because I was just being nosey at this point, but also because, well, she was just so damn striking.
She shrugged, tossing her hair back off her shoulder. “I can do basically anything. I can serve, I can cook. Clean. I’ve worked on cars, worked in customer service. I can make deliveries. Basically, whatever you need done, I can do it.”
Jimmy’s gaze flicked up and down her, as if measuring her up. He nodded. “The Hitching Post doesn’t open up until 3 PM, but you might find somethin’ there.”
“Thanks, sir,” she replied, flashing him a grin before her gaze fell to the glass display full of pastries. “Are those chocolate croissants?”
He nodded. “The missus makes them fresh daily.”
I could hear her little hum of approval all the way from the other side of the room. “I’ll take one please—actually, make it two.”
Jimmy nodded once more with a chuckle as he placed my order of drinks on the pickup counter. “Here you go, miss Quinn. Have a nice day.”
“Thanks Jimmy, you too.”
I grabbed my things and looked at the girl once more. She was probably around my age, if not a couple years older. Definitely old enough to serve alcohol. And she clearly needed a job if she was asking around town.
“Would bartending happen to be on that list?” I asked.
Her gaze settled on me and I finally got a full view of her. She had light eyes, but there was something odd about them. The more I looked, the more apparent it became. Her eyes were two different colors. The right was an icy blue, so light it looked more silver than anything, while the left was more of a golden hazel color. It was a striking combination.
Her mismatched gaze turned assessing as she took me in from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I shivered. “Who wants to know?” she asked, her words oozing with a confident, almost playful edge. Her full, pouty lips seemed to tug upward of their own accord, as if stuck in a permanent smirk.
“Oh, um, hi. That was really rude of me,” I replied, stumbling over myself. “I’m Quinn Decker. I have an event tonight, and my bartender called out. I’ll pay you, and whatever tips you make are yours.”
She pursed her lips a moment, her eyes narrowing in contemplation.
“It’s a big event,” I added, “ there’s gonna be at least a hundred people there. You’ll make good money. And if you need a place to stay, I have room on the ranch.”
Her eyes twinkled as a smile formed on her lips. “I’ll follow you on my bike. My name’s Ollie. Ollie Ravenwood.”
By the time wegot back to the ranch, it was nearly 2 PM. All things considered, it hadn’t set me back much. At least I still had enough time to introduce Ollie to everyone, get myself ready, and be there to oversee all of the last minute preparations. I found Whit, Dotty, and Walker with the ranch hands and Hux, helping put tablecloths on all the tables and setting up some of the decorations.
“Hey, guys!” I called, trying to get everyone’s attention. “Can you come over here for a second?”
Whit was the first over, her dark gaze fixed on Ollie with interest. Dylan, Wyatt, and Brooks looked like they were about to start salivating at the mouth over her. As obnoxious as it was, I couldn’t really blame them. She really was something to look at. But Walker’s reaction to her was probably the most honest and wholesome of all.
“Holy shit, you’re like…scary pretty,” she said, coming up to stand beside Whit.
Her mother tsked her, chastising her under her breath. “Walker Rose, don’t be rude.”
“What? It’s not rude. It’s true.”
If Ollie was annoyed from all of the attention she was getting, she didn’t show it. A smoky laugh fell from her lips as she placed a hand on her hip and asked, “Do you mean it’s scary how pretty I am, or that I’m pretty in a scary way.”
Walker’s head tilted to the side for just a second before she shrugged. “Both, I guess.”
Ollie laughed again. “I’ll take it as a compliment either way.”
“You guys,” I said, getting everyone’s attention. “This is Ollie. She’s here to save our asses tonight.”
