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I looked down at the Murphy’s bag that was on my desk and felt my stomach rumble.
Lynn’s smile was swift.
Gesturing toward the door, I led him out of my office and into the small lobby that would lead outside.
My eyes automatically went to the bar across the street.
“You remind me of my fiancée,” he joked. “Always hungry, you lot.”
“Normally I’m better able to control my hunger,” I admitted as I limped toward the door and pushed it open. Hot, humid air practically slapped me in the face. “But I ran today.”
“Is that why you’re limping?” Lynn asked curiously, not sounding bothered in the least that he was asking for personal information. Then again, he likely didn’t know that my limping was a sore spot. Literally and figuratively.
I shook my head. “I… an accident.”
The breath stalled in my lungs when I finally saw what I was looking for outside and across the street.
There he was.
He and his friend, along with another ripped, muscular guy, were unloading a truck of kegs.
Trick was picking them up and walking them just inside the bar door as if they weighed nothing.
Though, I knew from my grandfather that they weren’t light. One hundred and sixty-one point five pounds, to be exact.
They definitely weren’t light like Trick was making them look like they were.
“It was nice meeting you, Ms. Marrin,” Lynn said, sliding to the side and heading toward a bike that was just down the road from where I’d parked my car. “Hopefully we won’t need you.”
My lips twitched hard.
“Same,” I called to his back, practically having to tear my eyes away from Trick and his bulging muscles. “And please, feel free to call me Swayze.”
Eyes amused, he saluted me and straddled his bike, making me shake my head as I walked back inside.
My lips were twitching hard at what kind of a contradiction he was.
Impeccable suit and tie, hair not displaced in the least.
Callused hands, dangerous vibe about him.
Oh, and he rides a Harley.
No, Lynnwood was definitely not your typical businessman.
When I finally returned my gaze back to the men that were unloading kegs, it was to find Trick’s eyes on me, and a frown on his handsome face.
He did not like me looking at other men.
My lips curled up at the corners. Duly noted.
CHAPTER 8
I have to be successful because I like expensive shit.
-Swayze to Trick
TRICK
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but seeing her there at some society function in the middle of a group of hoity-toity friends wasn’t it.
I was delivering beer to the function.
Apparently, the society function, known as Diamonds and Jeans, the best of the best in deep East Texas, had this function once a year to raise awareness for sex trafficking.
The men and women there were all the cream of the crop in society or the ‘elite’ and made it perfectly clear that I was not welcome there.
Well, if they wanted their beer, they better damn well become welcoming.
I got out of the truck, my eyes on the woman that was currently setting up a tent just off to the side of the driveway in the stuck-up estate that had too much money for their own good.
A man, seeing my interest in the woman that he was standing next to and trying to act like he was helping, narrowed his eyes and started to stalk my way.
“You can’t park there,” the man called, causing another man to look up and spot me.
Apparently, they didn’t see the kegs in the truck.
“Just dropping off a delivery of kegs, man,” I grumbled as I dropped the tailgate of my truck and hauled myself inside.
“We have people arriving imminently,” the man continued to complain from the side of my truck. “Deliveries are set up at the back. Where they should be.”
I rolled my eyes. “There was a line of fucking ten delivery trucks. And just sayin’, but I’m doin’ y’all a favor by selling you my kegs. So you can fuck off.”
There was a hiss of annoyance from the other guy that’d been watching but not saying anything.
“Excuse me, but there are women present.” His gaze went over my shoulder, and I knew without turning to look that they were staring at Swayze. “Please tone down your swearing.”
I rolled my eyes, moved the first keg to the tailgate, and then hopped right back down.
Picking the keg up, I cursed myself for unloading these at all this morning since I’d had to reload five of the eight that I’d brought inside only two mornings ago.
Hefting the keg onto my shoulder, I was just taking a step onto the finest grass I’d ever seen when suited guy number one stepped in front of me. “Please, stick to the sidewalks.”
I looked toward the sidewalk, that would take me way out of the fuckin’ way, and snorted. “Move.”
He didn’t have any choice when I started walking forward.
