A strong arm bands across my middle, and a warm hand presses at the small of my back, fusing me completely to the front of the stranger that caught me. My eyes immediately snap open at his touch, which feels like a live wire of electricity, making my pulse skyrocket and my nipples pebble into diamond-hard tips.
As I look up, intending to thank him, my words die on my lips. My brain absolutely short-circuits. He must be the hottest man alive. He’s so freakin’ tall, about six foot nine, and he is all hard-cut marble, broad shoulders, and thick, powerful thighs. His muscles are so sculpted you can see the outline through his navy Henley. The color of his skin reminds me of the desert dunes bathing in the sunset light right before the sun disappears completely from the sky, and his hair is an ash-brown mess of curls, longer in the middle and shorter on the sides. Stubble covers his cheeks, giving him a sexy, scruffy appearance.
Time seems to stop as everything disappears around us. The muffled music, the slurred drunken conversations, and the laughter coming from a nearby table all fade away the moment our gazes collide. His eyes are two pools of desire, the amber transforming to burnished gold as he gulps, his breath coming hard through his parted lips.
His eyes…where have I seen his eyes before?
Oh my God. The wolf I’ve been dreaming about since I woke up from the heart transplant surgery. He has the same eyes. No…that’s impossible. I’m just reading too much into things.
We are both breathing as if we’ve just finished running a marathon. He bends slightly, brushing his knuckles on the side of my face, and then frames my jaw with his calloused fingers while his thumb presses on my bottom lip. My tongue sneaks out to taste his skin, and his eyes darken with desire. Molten lava courses through my veins, and my clit starts to throb as my panties soak completely with the need to feel him between mylegs.
Mierda. ¿Qué me está pasando?
He closes the space between us, and I think he is going to kiss me, but instead he buries his face in my hair. “Mmm, you smell so good I could eat you piece by piece,” he rumbles in my ear, his deep, gravelly voice like crushed velvet over silk as his breath tingles the side of my neck, sending shivers down the ladder of my spine.
Jesus, I have never been more turned on in my entire life. If he decides to bend me over and fuck me right here in the crowded bar, I won’t even lift a finger to stop him.
He turns his head slightly, bringing our faces so close we are practically sharing the same breath. Fiery golden eyes snap to my lips. A hard swallow follows. And as if he can’t stop himself, he inches forward when a woman knocks into us and breaks the spell. His dark-winged eyebrows furrow while he shakes his head as though he can’t believe what just happened between us. As if I’m poisonous, he lets me go abruptly. Everything comes rushing back all at once. My knees buckle, and I feel like this time I will surely face-plant when his hand shoots out, grabbing my elbow and stabilizing me.
“You okay?” he asks gravelly, clearing his throat, his eyes fixated somewhere above my head as though he’s asking for the universe’s secrets to unravel at his feet.
“Yeah,” I respond, my voice so breathy, I barely recognize it. “Thank you.”
He nods sharply, letting go of my elbow as if I burnt him. Shoulders stiff and spine rod-straight, he turns around and hightails toward the private booths at the back like the hounds of hell and Satan himself are nipping at his heels.
What the hell was that?
I have to take a few moments to breathe in and out with my hand pressed to the center of my chest in a feeble attempt tocalm my erratic heart. I almost go after him and demand he finish what he started.
When I finally feel I have full control over my body again, I make a beeline for the hallway near the pool tables. After I pass the long line of women waiting to get into the bathroom, I amble toward the exit sign the bartender talked about and make a right on the dark corridor. I rap my knuckles against the first door on the left wall.
“Come in,” a raspy voice travels through the door.
Turning the knob, I step over the threshold and can barely see the woman sitting at the desk through the thick wall of cigarette smoke. “Hello, my name is Ava Perez. I’m here for the server position. I saw the help-wanted sign in the window.”
She stubs out the cigarette into an ashtray on top of the glass desk and waves her hand in front of her face in a failed attempt to clear the air. “Hi Ava, please come in and sit down.” She stands up and opens the window. “Sorry about the smoke. I forgot to open the window. I told my husband I quit a week ago, but running this bar stresses me the fuck out, so I hide in here to wind down,” she rambles as she takes a seat back at the desk. “He’s been on my case lately about selling the bar and retiring to a tropical island, but this bar has been in my family for generations. I can’t just sell it.”
Now that the thick billowing smoke starts to dissipate, I can see her clearly. She is a woman past the age of fifty with unruly, curly silver hair. She’s wearing a long flowery skirt and a bohemian shirt with flounce sleeves. “I’m Marnie,” she says, extending her hand toward me. “So, Ava, do you have any experience serving in bars?” she asks after we shake hands, her kind brown eyes sizing me up.
I sit down. “Um, I don’t want to lie to you. I haven’t worked much because I was focused on law school. I do have some experience working at a café on campus. I know it’s differentfrom working in a bar, but I’m a fast learner.”
Marnie purses her lips and drums her fingers on top of the desk. “Why’d you quit law school? Don’t tell me your dream is to work in a dive bar,” she says, amusement dripping from her tone.
I fumble with my fingers in my lap. “Well, two months ago, I was given a new chance at life. I had a heart transplant, and I realized going to law school was only my mother’s dream and that I wasn’t happy. So, after I recovered, I decided to move to Ashville and start living on my own terms. The truth is, I don’t know what my dream is. I guess I never let myself dream when I only wanted to please my mother and be her perfect little puppet.”
She leans back in her seat with a contemplative frown, accentuating the already deep lines on her forehead. “I like your honesty. Can you start tonight?”
My eyebrows shoot up all the way to my hairline. “Wait, what? You want to give me the job?” I can’t believe it could be that easy.
“You’re not underage, are you?”
“No, but as I said, I don’t have any experience—”
“Well, I desperately need a server, and you need a job. Beggers can’t be choosers. Schedule’s Wednesday to Saturday from nine p.m. to three a.m. You have to come one hour before opening, and then you can leave after cleaning. If you do well tonight, we can manage all the paperwork on Monday.” Marnie pushes her chair back, making its legs scrape loudly against the hardwood floor, and stands up. “C’mon, let’s go find Tony. He’s one of the servers. You’ll shadow him tonight, and he’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
After she shows me the staff room and gives me a locker where I put my jacket and purse, I follow Marnie back into the crowded bar. My feet are already killing me, even if the boot heels are short. I’m not one to wear heels very often, and I want to kickmyself for this stupid decision, but I honestly wasn’t expecting to start working right away.
Marnie hands me a notepad for orders and explains the last details of what the job entails as we wait for Tony to finish serving a table.
