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“Don’t call me that,” she snarls.
Fucking hell. I think I’ve found the love of my life.
Setting the glass down, she rests her hands on the bar and leans forward, bringing her face closer to mine. I get a soft whiff of her perfume, and the sweet and spicy scent imbeds itself in my soul.
“Get the fuck away from my bar.”
“Is that any way to talk to a paying customer?” I ask tauntingly. Her lips curl away from her teeth.
“What do you want?” She scans the room behind me, but it’s mostly empty except for a few of the Berserkers Old-Timers and the bouncer. Finally, her gaze meets mine again, and I run my lip through my teeth.
Tattoos cover her arms and chest, flowing up her neck and stopping under her jaw. Her black hair is pin-straight down her back, but it’s her fiery eyes that have me falling.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe. She rolls her eyes as she straightens, folding her arms over her chest.
“Not interested.” She eyes me like I’m worthless, but it only turns me on more.
“Didn’t ask if you were interested, did I, love? Just said you’re beautiful.” She runs her tongue along her top teeth, then tenses her jaw.
“What do you want?” She huffs out an irritated breath. “Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” I shrug and lean my whole body against the bar, bringing us closer.
“I’d rather talk to you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” My smirk broadens until my teeth flash. She twists her lips to the side as she shifts, her eyes scanning the room again.
She can’t meet my gaze, and if I was a betting man, which I usually am, I’d say she thinks I’m as hot as I think she is.
“You wanna get out of here when I’m done with this?” I ask, jerking my head toward the hallway. She lets out a bark of humorless laughter.
“Not if you were the last man on the fucking planet.”
“You wound me, babe.”
“Good.” I throw my head back and laugh. This tough bitch act she has going is making my dick harder than a diamond and is solidifying that she’s my fucking soulmate. Yeah, some might say it’s too soon to know, but I know. I knew the second our eyes met that this woman was mine.
“I’m Kiwi,” I say, and she scrunches her face, giving me a what the fuck look.
“You’re named after a fruit?” she scoffs. “Why?” I gesture to myself.
“The accent doesn’t give it away?” She tilts her head to the side, letting her hair spill over her shoulder. “New Zealand, love.” She nods in understanding and taps her fingers against her arm.
“Right, well, as interesting as that is, Kiwi, I’d like you to fuck off now, ‘kay?”
“You know,” I say as I push myself up. “I like you, Kennedy.” She stiffens, her face dropping all humor.
“How do you know—”
“Oh, I know everything,” I whisper. I wink at her as I step away from the bar, tapping my knuckles against it. “Remember that, love.”
“Stop calling me that,” she growls.
“Nah.” I walk backward, away from her, toward the hallway. Our gaze never drops. She stares at me the entire way, and I smile at her. “Don’t think I will.” Before I disappear, I throw a quick, “Love,” out, just because I like the way she looks when she wants to kill me.
Kennedy
Two and a Half Months Later
Irun my fingers through Ian’s soft black hair. There isn’t a lot of his father in him, which I’m thankful for. He’s all me, all the way.
