“At work? Where do you work?” I thought she was a stay-at-home mom.
“Lucky’s Pub.”
“In Elmott?”
She nods, turning away again.
When did Dallas Hayes start working at a shitty pub in Elmott of all places?
Sam and I go to Elmott to fight in an underground fight club for fun and to earn quick cash. The demographic in that town is shady, to say the least. It’s a lot of single men, and the crime rate is unusually high.
“When did you start that job?” I press my fingers into her side.
“About a month ago.”
“When do you work?”
She dips her head back to look up at me again, her emerald eyes guarded. “Why?”
“Just curious, darlin’.”
I spin her away from me before pulling her back and immediately dipping her down to the floor. Shegasps, but follows my lead perfectly. When I lift her back up, she licks her parted lips.
“I work Wednesdays through Saturdays, six p.m. to two a.m.”
My gaze narrows. “You what?”
The weekend closing shift is no place for a woman like Dallas Hayes in a town like Elmott.
“The tips are good.”
“I bet they are,” I bite out.
She raises a brow. I haven’t been to Lucky’s Pub, but it sounds like I need to plan a trip.
“Is that why you’re out at Old Harry’s on a Tuesday?”
She nods. I want to ask why her worthless husband can’t make enough money so she can stay home with the kids, but the song ends, and she lets go of my hand, turning back to our table.
I follow her back and pull her chair out for her. Jo has disappeared somewhere. Dallas takes a sip of water.
“You want another drink?” I ask.
She stares into the glass of water, studying the ice cubes before finally nodding.
“Any preference?”
“Surprise me.”
I walk over to the nearly empty bar, leaning across the counter. I spot Jo on the other side of the room, talking to one of the band members on his break. The place is nearly empty, considering it’s a weekday. The bartender notices me and smiles. She has a septum piercing and blond pigtails.
“What can I get you, handsome?”
“Give me a glass of sauvignon blanc and a Dr. Pepper.”
She raises a brow but fulfills the order. I pay and tip her before turning back to the table.
Dallas is no longer alone. Standing next to her on either side are two big, brawny-looking cowboys I don’t know. One of them is leaning into her. My skin tightens when he reaches out to push a blond curl away from her face. Dallas shrinks away from him, but keeps a practiced smile on her lips. It’s not her real smile.
