ONE
SCARLET
“This seat taken?”I ask, glancing up at the god of a man posted up at the bar, a lone bottle of beer in front of him.
He’s built like the freaking Hulk, with muscle on top of muscle. His blond hair’s cropped close on the sides with a long, unruly strip down the middle. He’s the definition of rugged, dressed in ripped jeans, a white tee, and a black vest. Oh, and his beard… don’t even get me started on his freaking beard.
Too bad he’s not interested—at least, if the scowl pointed my way is anything to go off.
Okay, then.Let’s pivot, because I need a damn drink or three, preferably on someone else’s dime.
I toss my hair over my shoulder and slide onto the barstool beside him anyway—it’s not like he can actually stop me from sitting here. He doesn’t own the seat.
It’s Friday, and The Creek, our local bar for the under-sixty crowd, is practically at capacity. I’m dressed to kill in a pair of ass-hugging jean shorts and a tank top that shows off exactly what I’m working with—so, who cares ifthisguyisn’t interested?Someone else will be.
I twist around in my seat and scan the densely packed space. There’s a group of guys at a high top that looks promising.They’re all decked out in plaid shirts, well-worn jeans, and work boots. They’re exactly my type—at least for tonight, because god knowsI’m not looking for forever.
I’m just about to abandon my stool in favor of the guys at the high top, when the bartender slides a tall glass garnished with a lemon twist in front of me.
“Creek water for the lady.”
“Oh.” I glance up and down the bar, in case he’s mistaken me for someone else. “Um.”
“It’s what you usually order, right?” he asks, a subtle blush creeping across his cheeks.
“It is.” I nod, curling my fingers around the cool glass. “How’d you know?”
“Good memory.” He taps his temple and shrugs, averting his eyes before slowly bringing them back to me.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s this attentive to all of his customers, or if I’m somehow special.
“Well, thank you,” I murmur, offering him a small smile as I reach for the crisp twenty-dollar bill I tucked into my bra—myjust in casemoney.
His cheeks go from pink to red, the neon beer signs overhead only serving to amplify the glow. It’s kind of adorable the way he flip-flops between self-assured and shy. “This one’s on the house.”
Well, it looks like my night’s already turning around.“Aren’t you a sweetheart…” I glance down at his nametag. “…Clint.”
He winks and heads off to help one of the many other patrons waiting to order.
I keep my gaze on the bartender for a long moment before finally taking a sip of my drink. It's ice cold, and I relish the tang of the lemon juice with the bite of the bourbon as I swallow it down.
Once my glass is nearly drained, I swivel my stool around and discreetly check out the guys I have my eye on. Out of the six of them, one is a hard no thanks to the thick, silver wedding band he's proudly rocking, three are doable, and the other two are absolutely fuck-hot.
“You are a badass bitch,” I whisper to myself before tossing back the last of my drink and fluffing my hair.
The hulking, silent man next to me snorts a laugh, and I whip around to glare at him. “Something funny, asshole?”
“No, no.” He waves me away as if I’m nothing more than an annoying little bug before taking a long pull from his beer. “As you were.”
“You clearly have something to say,” I hiss, rattling the ice in my now empty glass.
He looks me up and down before smirking. His silence is infuriating. I'm tempted to tell him off, but, before I can, someone crowds into my left side.
A mouthwatering and familiar scent invades my nostrils, and I know exactly who’s behind me.Ellis fucking Wilder.It’s unfair for someone so unpleasant to smell so good. Like cedarwood, clove, and a hint of patchouli… like temptation and bad decisions.
“Who let you out of hell for the night?” he asks, his deep voice closer than I expected, causing me to shiver, despite the overly warm room.
Tall, dark, and shitty attitude snorts into his beer, and I narrow my eyes at him.
