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“Hi, I’m looking for Pyro,” I said quietly as Tim McGraw frowned.
“Honey, you in the right place?” he asked as the others present swapped glances.
“Yes, if Pyro works here.”
“Pyro’s a Hellfire brother.”
“Then please, can I see him? We’re friends,” I stated and tried not to wince at the sudden eyebrows that rose to the heavens. The look of disbelief that crossed the four faces nearly forced me to flee. But I needed Pyro, so I couldn’t run.
“Are you sure, darlin’?” Tim McGraw asked.
“Yes,” I said, bobbing my head.
“Bear, fetch Pyro,” was the following order. “Hey, I’m Chance, honey.”
“Hi, Chance,” I replied and winced inwardly at the lame wave I offered. Chance stared again in disbelief.
“You aware Pyro enjoyed fucking librarians?” the other guy asked.
“Nah,” Chance replied. How rude; I could have defended myself but turned a deaf ear.
“Did Pyro ever mention being friends with a librarian?”
“Shee, you know as much as me. Think the girl’s got her wires crossed, but we’ll see what Pyro has to say,” Chance muttered.
“Girl’s nowhere near Pyro’s type,” Shee argued.
“Shee, shut the fuck up, brother,” Chance growled with a sideways look at me.
“Would you like a drink? I’m Clio, that grumps wife,” the cute woman offered, walking towards me.
“No, thank you,” I replied.
“Want a seat?” Clio asked, curiosity all over her face.
“Again, no, thank you. Please, I need to speak to Pyro, and then we’ll see what happens from there.” Warily I glanced up as three men walked into the clubhouse, staring at me. None of them was the man I needed.
“Woman after Pyro? Think he’s knocked a librarian up?” one asked, ignoring me and moving straight to Chance.
“Fuck knows, Chatter,” Chance muttered.
“Do I look pregnant?” I snapped irately. Jeez, what was with these men?
“Honey, Pyro’s on his way, but I’m telling you, you ain’t his type,” Chatter grunted.
“Good for Pyro,” I growled. Did every guy here think that every woman who came through their doors wished to screw them? Lord, they had some enormous egos. The door slammed open, and the man I wanted walked in.
Far taller than I imagined Dakota would be, at least six foot three, wide-shouldered and broad-chested, with lean hips and long muscled legs. Dakota’s brown hair was scrapped messily back in a ponytail, and those violet eyes glared at me in puzzlement. A scar ran across his chin, adding to his air of danger. Dakota had filled in his childhood promise and was beautiful. A smile broke out at seeing him, even as Dakota stared at me with no other emotion but bewilderment. I nearly raced across the room to stand toe to toe with him.
“Dakota, oh my God, you look amazing. Wow, I can’t believe it’s you!” I gasped excitedly.
“Huh, I don’t recognise you, lady,” Dakota rumbled. Dakota glanced over my head, looking confused.
“Dakota, it’s me! It’s been years, but I had to come when I read the article and saw your picture in the magazine.” I was so happy to see him, to witness Dakota grown-up, that I was stumbling over my words. But for Dakota, they must have been the wrong words. His face blanked, and enmity crossed his expression briefly.
“Oh jeez, a fangirl. You fuckers called me in here for an uptight virgin librarian?” Dakota growled, shooting the men a pissed off glance.
“Hey!” I proclaimed at the harsh words.
