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“At the end of the day, I don’t want a perfect man. I want someone who is tough yet sincere and honest, who loves to travel and makes a good cup of coffee. A man who will break the headboard and not my heart.”
His eyes fall shut as he sucks in a deep breath. It’s as if he’s bothered by the fact that he might enjoy my company. It’s unnerving yet completely satisfying.
“Let’s do some people-watching, shall we?” I offer.
“No.” He motions to the bartender for another drink and is promptly served.
I slide my chair around and look toward the dance floor, pulling on Rob’s hand for him to face the room with me. His palm is warm and callous, and I hold on to it for a moment too long because there’s something sexy and rugged about his hand that I like.
“What about her?” I point toward a girl dancing with some friends on the dance floor.
She appears to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Dark hair, a pointed nose, and a killer body.
“She’s very attractive.”
“Get up and talk to her! I’ll give you some tips. You might not want to date, but she might go home with you tonight if you play your cards right.”
“I don’t need help with bedding a woman.”
My chest rises with a zing and hardens my nipples. The thought of Rob in bed with a woman is quite the visual. A good visual. White knuckles on the headboard and an animalistic passion. He could probably fuck that anger right out of his system.
“I find the men who captivate me the most are the ones who are themselves. Introduce yourself. You’re crazy hot, so you don’t have to worry about her finding you attractive even though you’re really old.” He looks at me from the side of his eyes, but I keep on talking. “Just don’t grunt at her. Women don’t like that.”
He grunts at me, and it makes me laugh.
“The bar scene isn’t for me.”
“That’s fine if you don’t want to get married again, but everyone needs to get laid.”
“Believe it or not, some people have more important things to worry about than getting laid. You wonder why you have a reputation. This kind of talk is what makes people think you’re easy even though you’re not.”
I slide off my seat and stand in front of him, angling my body between his knees, which are opened wide on the barstool. “I’ll forgive you for being a dick if you explain that comment about having more important things to worry about.”
He runs his hand down his face. His expression is pained, as if him explaining his troubles to me is the last thing he wants to do.
I inch closer.
“Fucking persistent woman.” He sighs and takes a swig of his drink, placing the glass roughly on the bar, and then tilts that clenched jaw at me. “Summer vacation is coming up, and I want my kids to come stay with me at the ranch, but my ex says it’s impossible since I work too much.”
“You have a ranch?”
“That’s all you heard?”
“Ex-wife. Kids. Summer. I heard the other stuff. I just got caught up on the wordranch.”
“It’s not a working ranch. It’s an abandoned one and about an hour’s drive from this town. My ex and the kids kept our house here in Castleton. All I wanted was my land and my truck.”
“You sound like a walking country song,” I kid, and his scowl in return has me clearing my throat. My cheery smile morphs to one of seriousness. “Go on. What’s the problem with the kids?”
“I’m entitled to my kids for the summer, but she’s giving me shit because I can’t leave them in the house alone while I go to work. She’s planning on traveling all of July, and she may have to take them away with her. If she does, I’ll never see them.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a commercial contractor. I’m building an outlet mall, so I can’t take off too much.”
“How old are your kids?”
“Sixteen and ten.”
