I lean over the bar, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “You know Kasen has a search party out scouring the streets for you.”
She pulls back from me, a blank look registering in her eyes that sends an icy chill through me. Slater said she was different, but I didn’t expect her to be like this with me. We were close once. “Does it look like I care?” she mutters as she goes on stirring her drink with her straw.
I chuckle out a laugh. Well, shit, the girl’s got attitude. There aren’t many who purposely defy K, but she really doesn’t give a shit. “Not at all.”
I take her in with fresh eyes. She’s not the girl I once knew. Not so sweet anymore. She’s not broken either; she’s damaged in a HarleyQuinn “stay out of my fucking way” kind of way. The look on her is hot as all hell. Her button-up shirt is oversized, her shorts the kind that almost show her ass cheeks, she has bruises marring her delicate features, but it’s her hair that captivates my attention the most. I want to run my fingers through it, wrap it around my fist as I drag her close to me, breathing in everything that is Dove Dawson. Pure summertime wrapped up in a pretty package. Even with all the upgrades.
“You want another?” I motion to the drink. She came into my bar for a reason, and I want to know what it is.
Her brow rises, paying me the first scrap of attention since I approached her. “If you’re paying.” Her eyes roam lazily down my body, and I know what she’s thinking. Yeah, baby, I got hot. Bronze skin, washboard abs she would like to run her tongue over, a mop of curls that seem to get all the girls’ attention. Her eyes flare with heat, and I offer her a sexy smirk. Yeah, that’s right, baby, I can read your mind, you want to do dirty things with me. “Forget it, a free drink isn’t worth the hassle.” She waves me off, turning round to face the bar again with a huff.
I can’t help but laugh. Well, shit, maybe she’s not like the rest of the girls round here, lining up for the chance of a night with the five-time world surf champ. “Rum again?” I ask anyway. She looks like she could use the drink.
Her green eyes rise to meet mine, and she polishes off what’s left in her glass. “I guess, as long as it’s not going to cost me anything.”
My grin widens. A girl who knows what she wants and how to get it, nice. “You have my word.” I pour her another and slide it in front of her, keeping my distance as much as I can. She’s skittish, I’d say ready to bolt at any second, and I’m not ready to let her walk out of here yet.
She dunks her straw into her drink and stirs slowly, still watching me through narrowed eyes.
“What are you doing here, Dove?” I ask, wondering why she would come into my bar when there are a whole heap of night-life spots down the beach strip these days. She’s clearly not happy to see me or up for a reunion. Her body language alone tells me to fuck right off. Yet she’s sitting here.
Her pretty green eyes running over my face, they are cold, detached almost, no sign of the playful, fun girl I once knew. “Honestly? I needed a drink. Didn’t realize this was your place or I would have rethought, but now I’m here, I couldn’t be bothered to leave.”
Well, that was like a slap in the face. Glad I asked—not. “Nice,” I mutter. Got a hell of a lot bitchier as well. I turn away from her, returning to wiping over and stacking the fresh glasses. What the hell happened to her? She has no right to be so snippy with me, it’s her who ran off, leaving us all behind without another word. I should be pissed with her, if anything. But I couldn’t be happier to see her, I missed her like crazy.
Nick, one of my staff members, grabs the sign-up form for our weekly surf comp, and I call him over, an idea coming to me. “See the silver-haired goddess at the end of the bar? She’s a sick surfer. I’ll give you a fifty-dollar cash bonus if you can get her to join the comp tonight.”
“The list is full,” he mutters, checking her out.
I tap the board, seeing a blank spot. “Add another,” I insist. They might be my rules so the comp doesn’t run too long and bore my clientele, but if I wanna change them, then this little shit isn’t going to stop me.
“Who is she?” He glances her way then back at the list.
I motion to the photo of the two of us across the bar. My walls are filled with memorabilia from my travels, but that photo means more than any of it. It was the last time the five of us were all together. Before everything changed. Before she was just gone. Every place I visited I searched for her, every blonde chick I met, I searched their eyes, looking for the fleck of green that turned me to a puddle. I never thought I would see her again.
Nick studies the photo, then he makes his way round the other side of the bar. “Sign up for the comp, miss? It starts in ten.” He shoves the clipboard in her face. The kid has no idea about how to act around women. I’m trying to teach him, but man, he’s got a long way to go.
“What comp?” She looks him over, confused.
He motions to the mechanical surfboard I have down the far end of the bar. “Every Saturday night we run a comp to see who can last the longest.”
“I’m sure it’s not your thing,” I mutter, passing by them, pretending to clear a table of its discarded glasses.
Nick looks at me like I’m messing this up for him, when I was the one who asked him to get her to join in the first place. But I know what I’m doing. Dove never backed down from a surfing challenge. Especially when I tell her she won’t be any good at it. She’s the most competitive chick I know.
“Ha, surfing not my thing.” She huffs, tossing her long hair over her shoulder, the scent of coconut wafting past me. My fingers itch to touch it. “What’s the prize?” she asks, all perky, crossing one long tanned leg over the other.
“Five hundred dollars,” he says, more hopeful.
Her eyes widen in shock. “Shit. And I just have to stay on that longer than anyone else?”
“Yeah.” He nods enthusiastically, knowing he’s got her andhis cash bonus.
“You’ve been gone too long, Dove, bet you’ve lost it,” I bait her. Messing with her has always been my favorite thing. It was better when Jay was around to back me up, but this is still fun.
Her lips purse as she takes the pen from him, clicking the back of it. “Where do I sign?” She scribbles her details down on the form then turns back to me with a cheeky grin that saysbring it on, motherfucker. It’s the best thing I have seen in so long. She’s so damn pretty.
“Good luck, miss,” Nick says. “I’ll call your name when it’s your turn.” He gets to work fixing the fall mats under the device, then calls the first name down the microphone.
