ME: You're comin' home with me tonight.
She turns, glancing over in my direction, and I smirk. Fuck, she's beautiful. She knocks back her shot and turns to speak to her uncle.
Goldie: Better catch me first, baby.
A low growl escapes me. I adjust myself in my jeans. I went a long time without her, and now all I want to do is have her. Every minute. Every hour. Every goddamn day.
Hudson turns and looks in our direction. He frowns. Leans in to whisper something to Harper.
I see the way her back straightens. She shakes her head. But he's already off his chair.
Walking right toward me.
I push myself off the table and stand straight. He's short compared to me. Probably a foot between us. The suit alone makes him a target in here. This is a cowboy bar, not a boardroom, and every man in this room can smell outsider on him.
Harper catches up and grabs his arm. He brushes her off.
I square up to him with a straight face.
"Is there a problem here?" I say.
He comes to an abrupt halt. Looks up at me. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. So I clear my throat.
"I said, do you have a fuckin' problem? Or is there a reason you're stomping over here looking like you want to start a fight?" I lean down an inch. "I'll give you some advice… don't come into a cowboy bar wearing a suit and expect to leave without a black eye."
Jett erupts into laughter behind me. "Last prick in a suit didn't last long."
Reese. Hunter's ex-best friend. We buried him a few weeks ago. Jett probably shouldn't joke about that. Especially not in front of him.
"This is Hudson," Harper says, stepping between us. Her voice is tight. Her eyes are begging me to behave.
Hudson extends his hand.
I take it. And I squeeze. Watch his eyes bulge. Hold it for three seconds longer than necessary.
"I'm Ace. Harper's…" I pause. Glance at her. She's giving me thedon't you fuckin' darelook.
"Harper's friend," I say with a smile.
He snatches his hand back and not so discreetly tries to cover up that he's shaking it out.
"Right. Well, I'm her fiancé." He straightens his jacket and gives me the kind of smile that men give when they think a title makes them untouchable.
I look down and there it is. My chest feels like it’s caving in. The diamond on her finger. Ginormous. The kind that just screams money and zero thought.
The exact opposite of what my Goldie would want. Seeing it—even knowing it ain't real—hits me square in the chest.
His eyebrow arches. "Let me guess. You're the ex."
"What makes you say that?"
He shoves a hand in his suit pocket. "Men just know, don't they? When another guy is after their girl. But you? You had that look about you. She's the one that got away. The one you’ll never quite be ready to give up on. So… you're the ex."
I clear my throat. He's not wrong. Except the part where Harper is his. What he fails to know is that I'm the one making her scream every night. I'm the one she wants.
My lips curve upwards. "Wouldn't call it that. Too negative for my liking. I think of it as I was Harper's first."
And last. But I keep that to myself.
