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“Um, you know that tass isn’t a word, right?” he asked as she leaned against him.
Fuck, he liked that a bit too much.
Not yours.
“Sure it is. That girl has too much tass.”
“Do you mean sass?” he asked, trying to figure out what she meant.
“Hmm, do I? I don’t know. I guess it’s all in the way you say the words. Ass, arse. Sass, sarse. See?”
He didn’t see. Not at all.
“You’re a lightweight, aren’t you?” he said, wrapping an arm around her as she reached for the third drink that Ronny had placed down on the bar.
She snorted. “I’m no lightweight.”
“Stop that,” he growled. Damn, he wished he could take her to task for the way she talked about herself.
If she were his . . .
But she wasn’t his.
She started singing along to the song playing and his heart stilled.
Holy fuck. She was good.
“Wow, baby girl,” he said as she finished.
“Wow, what?” She gazed up at him. “Why are you staring at me like that?” She wiped at her mouth. “Is there something on my face? I haven’t eaten anything. How long has it been on there? Oh, no!”
“What is it?”
“Am I naked?”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m naked, aren’t I?” she wailed. “This is my worst nightmare come true. I’m naked in public.”
They were drawing looks from other people, but he still couldn’t help but grin. “No, baby, you’re not naked.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty certain I would have noticed.” He put some cash down to pay their tab. Then he got off the stool before reaching up to lift her down. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home.”
Ronny nodded as Butch waved goodbye to him.
She pouted. Damn, that was cute. “I don’t think I wanna. We could go dancing.” She started dancing, and it was . . . holy fuck. He didn’t think he’d ever seen something so sexy in his life. The way she moved her ass.
Shit.
His dick pressed against his jeans.
She was killing him here. And she didn’t even seem to realize it. She was just grinding away as though no one was watching.
Actually . . . all of these pricks were watching. And he wasn’t having that. He gently grabbed hold of her arm and drew her against him.
“What’s going on?” she asked breathlessly. Her cheeks were pink, her lavender hair sticking almost up on end.
And she looked so beautiful that she took his breath away.
“Time to go,” he told her.
“Oh, but I want to stay.”
“No can do, pretty girl. I’m going to drive you home and tuck you into bed.”
“Yeah?” She grinned up at him. “Want to tuck yourself in too?”
He stared down at her in shock, but she was already dancing ahead of him, whistling.
He hurried to catch up. That was probably just more of her flirting with him. It didn’t mean anything.
Shit. She was already outside. Didn’t she know to wait for him? He rushed out the door to find her spinning. There was a light rain, and she had her head back, laughing.
“Lara! What are you doing?”
“Dancing in the rain! Isn’t it glorious? Come dance with me, Butch.”
He took a moment just to watch her, an indulgent smile on his face. Then she stumbled, and he leaped for her, gathering her against his chest.
“Well, hello, handsome,” she said, looking up at him. “Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.”
He groaned. “Come on, brat. We’re both getting wet. I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”
“Yes, sir!” She saluted him, barely missing hitting him in the eye.
He took hold of her hand and led her around to where his truck was parked.
“What’s with cowboys and their big trucks, huh?”
“Well, I guess you know what they say, big truck, big d—”
She slammed her hand over his mouth. “Butch!”
He pulled her hand away with a smile. “What? I was just going to say driveshaft.”
“Uh-huh, sure you were.”
He opened the passenger side and grabbed her around the waist.
“Butch, what are you doing?” she cried as he lifted her into the truck.
It gave him a splendid view of her ass in those tight, faux leather pants.
Damn.
He set her down carefully and she turned to glare down at him. “I could have got in myself.”
“But this way was more fun.”
“For whom?”
“For me, of course.” He closed the door, then walked around to the driver’s side, whistling. After climbing in, he glanced over at her. “Buckle up, baby girl.”
She yawned. “Let’s go, Butchie-baby.”
Butchie-baby? No. Nope. Not happening.
“We’re not moving until you put your belt on. And you are not calling me that.”
She turned to look at him. “Butchie-baby? But it suits you. Did they hurt?”
“Did what hurt?” Sometimes, it made his head spin trying to keep up with her.
“All those tattoos? Maybe I should get a tattoo. They look sexy as fuck on you.”
“Do they? Good to know.”
