Page 54 of Wrecked

He breaks our eye contact and looks down, a stony expression on his face.

I rub my hands on my pants and give them a pat. “So, yeah, the bar is the love of my life. No room for romance. Not for a long time.” I take a breath because I have been talking way too fast. “Let’s talk about you. Heard your drug bust led to saving the life of a young kid. That’s honorable.”

“Three years,” he says, staring at the airfield. “I’ve been building a case against Nico for three years, and he’s finally been put away.” Adam appears to be thinking heavily. “I couldn’t be part of the undercover investigation because he knows who I am, but I was able to assist.” He shakes his head in disgust. “We taped his phones, followed him as he met with distributors. Each deal took multiple transactions, drivers, phone calls, and locations. The fuck didn’t drive because he’d jump from car to car. He sold our guys twenty thousand dollars’ worth of heroin in six months. Can you imagine how much product that is moving in and out of Cedar Ridge?”

He lifts his water bottle to his mouth and takes a long gulp. “I went to this house, looking for a kid who had been reported missing. When I got there, Nico was selling on the front steps. I called for backup, barged up those steps, and took him down.

“When the EMTs arrived, they rushed into the house. That kid came out on a gurney, and he looked half-dead.”

His mouth purses in, that strong jaw twitching on the side. I know what he’s thinking. It reminded him of Brad.

I lay my hand on his thigh. “You did it. You got Nico, and you saved that kid’s life.”

Adam nods. “I went to see him in the hospital. Nice kid. He’s going to do a treatment program, so I think he’ll be okay.”

“I’m proud of you,” I say, looking up into eyes that have just run through every emotion in the book with one story.

His hand rests on top of mine, the warm weight grounding me into this moment. In twenty-four hours, my world with him has evolved into a new universe.

He takes another drink of water and then looks over at me. “It’s late, and I have to be back in the morning. You ready to head out?” Adam asks.

I nod even though my body is screaming no.

“Sure. Hey, you never said where you would travel. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

“Capri, Italy. I hear they have magnificent sunsets.”

“That’s awfully romantic.”

“I’m a pretty romantic guy.”

He stands and then holds a hand out to help me up. I take it, and when I’m upright, he lifts his other hand to my face and brushes his thumb along my cheek.

“You had paint right there,” he says, a slight quirk to his mouth.

“You could have told me that earlier. God, I’m a wreck.” I grab the hem of the too-big T-shirt and hold it out. “I have to give this back to you.”

He lets go of me and starts collecting the blankets from the tailgate. “Keep it,” he says over his shoulder. “You look cute.” He gathers the trash and then jumps off the tailgate before helping me down.

We climb into the front seats.

I’m pulling my seat belt over me when I hear, “Leah?” I’m clicking the buckle when he says, “Next time you play Peeping Tom, make sure you put my mirrors back.”

My eyes close in mortification.

We spend the duration of the ride with a blush on my face and a smile on his.

chapter TWELVE

“All right, all right, all right!” I strut on the top of the bar, wearing my frayed Daisy Dukes, a bikini top, and a leather vest. Paired with cowboy boots and a hat, and I’m one Bucking Bronco cowgirl in full effect.

“I wanna see some sexy ladies on the bar tonight. Who’s ready to get on up here and dance?” I shout into the crowd.

I am bombarded with dozens of raised hands.

Paulie plays some Big & Rich, and the barbacks help some girls up, so they won’t trip. As the girls try to show off their goods, I’ve got a microphone, and I am getting the crowd to sing “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy).” I like to stick to either really popular songs or ones that are fairly old to ensure the crowd knows the words. There is nothing worse than a nonparticipating group.

A girl shimmies over and leans into me, so she can sing into the microphone. She reeks of perfume and desperation. I let her sing while keeping a strong hold on the mic. When she’s done, I hop down from the bar and walk over to an oversize speaker that is on the floor by the mechanical bull. Stepping on it, I have a new makeshift stage for myself. I like the oak bar, but sometimes, the girls get very touchy-feely when they’re up there. I’m all for a good time, but if we’re not friends, please don’t touch. It’s creepy.