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PROLOGUE
Abel
Monroe's is hopping tonight. Everyone dressed up, ready to welcome in the holiday season. After tonight, it seems like it's a mad dash for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's. Most of the time, I feel like I go to sleep on Halloween night and wake up on New Year's day with no memory of how I got there.
“See anything you like?” my best friend, Barrett, asks.
He and I have known each other since we were toddlers. We're part of a friend group that calls each other best friends, but if I were forced to pick one, it would be him. He knows all my secrets, dreams, and fears. With the number of times we've saved each other's asses, we owe our lives to the other.
I glance around, noticing the woman who's had my attention since I officially met her almost a year ago. “Kara Phillips is over there.” I motion with my beer.
He rolls his eyes. “When are you going to shoot your shot? There are only so many tacos a man can eat—only so many times you can 'show up' at her food truck. It's time to stop dancing around and go for it.”
“Ahhh, maybe tonight's not it.” I take a drink of my beer. I have a healthy fear of rejection even though I haven't been met with it much in my life.
“If not tonight, when? She's not going to be single forever, Abel. Eventually, she's going to find someone who piques her interest. You can't expect her to know how you feel about her through osmosis.”
I hate him. He's right, and I've been trying to talk myself out of making a move on her all night. There's just something about the costume she's wearing. She's a sexy female carpenter, and that speaks to me more than I should allow it to. Her worn in jeans with rips in the thighs are painted on, a flannel shirt tied under her breasts shows off a toned stomach, and there’s a belly button ring that I never would have pegged her as having. Her red hair is curled, hanging halfway down her back, messy in a way that looks like she's just had a good fucking. One I wish I participated in.
My eyes don't leave her as I watch some asshole I don't know cozy up to her. Her body instantly stiffens, and she turns away from him, giving him her shoulder. Any normal person would realize that means to back off. This guy doesn't seem to get the memo.
“Be right back.” I set my beer down.
“Do you need help?” Barrett asks, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You know I've got you.”
“I know, but I've got this myself.”
As I make my way through the crowd of people, I hitch my chin at my dad, who sits at the bar, talking to his girlfriend. They’re disgustingly happy, to the point where everyone groans when they kiss. I don't have to worry about him being alone. It's been weighing more on my mind the older I get—and the older he gets. He gave up so much of his life for mine. More than anything, I want him to be happy. The two of us share a look across the bar. In that glance, we have an entire conversation. If I need him, he will be there.
I head over to where Kara stands and come up behind her, invading her space. She turns her head so she can see me. When she leans back against me in an act of trust, it's everything.
“Is there a problem here?” I ask.
The guy looks at me as if he's scared to do something I'd be upset with. I'm a big guy. I’ve worked manual labor most of my life, and I didn't get fit by lifting a few weights here and there. I can throw down if need be. Not that I want to, but I can, and will, if I have to.
“Yeah, he can't take no for an answer, babe.” Kara leans into me.
It's second nature for me to reach around her stomach and place a secure arm there, pulling her fully to my front. She drops completely against me, trusting my strength to hold her up. “If he can't take no for an answer, then maybe I'll have to make sure he learns what it means to respect a woman.”
“Nah, man, I didn't really think she had someone here. Just thought she was trying to use that excuse to not talk to me.” He holds his hands up in front of him.
“And what if she did? It shouldn't matter. You should respect whatever she wants to give you.”
I have no idea what she's going to do, and no one is more surprised than me when she turns toward me, wraps her arms around my neck, threads her fingers through my hair, and does what I've been wanting—her head tilts, and she takes my mouth with hers. For a brief moment, I let her dictate where this is going to go, until she opens her lips against mine. It's an invitation for me to take control.
Without meaning to, I let my arms circle around her body and my hands travel down her back until they rest on her ass. My fingers tighten against the globes, and before I know what's happening, I lift her. It humbles me, the way her legs circle my waist and tighten as I raise her above me. My neck stretches to keep our lips fused together, and when we break apart, my whole world is spinning.
“What was that?” I ask, collecting the taste of her from my lips.
Her hazel eyes are wide with surprise. “I don't know, but I think I'd like to do it again.”
Me too. As soon as possible. And maybe for the rest of my fuckin' life.
CHAPTER ONE
Abel
Three days later, I can still taste Kara on my lips and it’s fucking with everything going on in my life. I've found myself watching her live streams more often than I should be, because I can't seem to hang out at the food truck, not like we had been previously. That kiss fucked me up in more ways than one. It showed me what I could have, and gave me a piece of what I've always wanted.
