Mason turns, and I see the same assessment flash in his eyes. “Think she's a tourist?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Beck says, sliding off his stool and straightening his shirt. “I call dibs. It’s my turn. You got the blonde last week, Mase.”
“Fuck off. You had sex last night,” Mason argues, puffing his chest out.
“I. Said. Dibs.” Beck stamps his foot.
Mason shoves his chest. “You lost your privileges.”
I watch them like the proud father we never really had. My brothers always fight and I never get involved.
Why? Because I get my way anyway.
“Both of you shut the fuck up and sit down.” I take a long pull of my beer, my eyes never leaving her.
Beck freezes. “What?”
Mason looks at me, then back at the woman, understanding dawning. “Oh, come on, Dec… Not again.”
“Eldest brother privilege,” I say, the corner of my mouth lifting. It’s a bullshit rule we made up when we were teenagers, and it only applies when I decide it does.
“You’re not even the eldest! Zoey’s the eldest!” Beck scoffs.
“Eldestbrother,” I clarify, my gaze still locked on the woman as she finally tucks her phone away and looks around, those bright green eyes scanning the room.
“And I’m the captain. So shut up. She’s mine.”
I don’t wait for their bickering response as I push off the bar, my body moving with a purpose I haven’t felt all day.
The energy and frustration of that goddamn meeting has a target now.
And that target has a tight little body ready todevour.
I cut through the crowd, my size making a path without me having to try. She’s still standing near the door, looking a little lost, and when I stop in front of her, she has to tilt her head up to meet my eyes.
“You look lost,” I say, swallowing hard.
She blinks up at me, andfuck.Up close, she’s even hotter.
Freckles dust her nose and her lips are so full and glossy I can practically see myself staring.
“Is it that obvious?” she says, her voice soft and sweet.
“The phone stare is a dead giveaway. That, and you’re the only person in here without a tan.”
She laughs, and the sound does things to me. “Guilty. Just got into town. My… directions from the hotel were a little optimistic about how ‘right on the beach’ this place is.”
Hotel? Perfect. A tourist.
“It’s Beachside. Everything’s optimistic here.” I nod toward the bar. “First drink’s on me. Consider it a welcome to paradise.”
She studies me, her gaze traveling over my face, my shoulders, down my chest and back up. There’s no shyness in it. Just the same interest I'm used to getting from women at the bar.
“That’s a very forward welcome,” she says, but she takes a step toward the bar anyway, leading the way.
I fall into step beside her, leaning my forearms on the bar and waving Mack down. “What’s your poison?”
"Surprise me," she says confidently, but her fingers are twisting the hem of her skirt.
