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He frowned. He didn’t like the way she kept putting herself down. She was gorgeous.
Ronny returned with her drink then hastily left. It was this yellow-green color, and he watched as she took a sip. She let out a moan of satisfaction that had his dick hardening. What was wrong with him?
“That’s so good. Wanna taste?”
“No, I’m good.”
She shrugged. “Your loss.” Then she drew back to stare up at him. “Hey, you know, you’re very good-looking.”
“Nice of you to notice,” he replied dryly.
“Anyone who says that Disneyland is the happiest place on earth has clearly never stood next to you.”
“What?” He gaped at her in confusion.
“It’s a pick-up line. You didn’t like it?”
He groaned. “That was truly awful.”
“Really? Damn. That was some of my best work.” She pouted.
He had the ridiculous urge to kiss that pout right off her lips. Then she sighed and rubbed at her temples before taking another sip of her drink.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“Oh, I’m really not. But it’s okay. I never really am.”
Butch frowned, not liking that answer.
He wondered why she wasn’t all right and if there was something he could do to help.
Down, boy.
Not your problem.
He didn’t know what it was about her that intrigued him.
“So, big guy, are you free Saturday night?”
2
Butch raised an eyebrow. His ego was taking a bit of a blow since he was her second choice after Ronny, who was about fifteen years her senior and had a potbelly and yellow teeth.
“To do what?”
“Come to a wedding with me.” She leaned her cheek on her hand, staring over at him.
Was she for real? A wedding? A strange sense of déjà vu hit him. Clem had wanted a date for a wedding not that long ago. Not that she’d asked Butch.
Nah, she’d had the bad luck to fall for Jaret. A dumber, far less attractive Malone.
“A wedding? You do realize I don’t even know your name.” Should she be asking strange men out?
“Oh, I’m Lara Matheson. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand and he took hold, squeezing it lightly. Her skin was smooth. He was suddenly imagining what it would feel like to have her touch him.
All over.
Don’t embarrass yourself.
“And you are?” she asked.
“Butch.”
“Butch? Is that a nickname?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. Cool. I like it. It’s different. And it suits you.”
Did it?
“So besides being sexy what do you do for a job?” she asked.
He nearly spat out his mouthful of beer. As it was, it went down wrong, and he ended up coughing with her patting his back.
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
She just grinned. “I said, besides being sexy, what do you do for a job?”
“Is that meant to be a pickup line? If so, it was terrible.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so funny.”
He shook his head.
“You can do better?” she challenged.
He cleared his throat. “I’m here now. What were your other two wishes?”
She giggled. “That’s a good one.”
He grinned. She was surprisingly easy to talk to.
“Is that your friend who’s getting married?” He nodded at the bride-to-be who was currently dancing, well, he thought that what was what she was doing. It was both hard to watch her move and difficult to look away all at the same time.
“She’s not my friend.” Lara’s face grew serious.
“But you’re going to her wedding?”
“She’s my sister. Half-sister. That’s important. Since her dad, my stepdad, is a jerk.”
Sister? Huh.
“That’s rough.” Only Alec, West, and Jaret had the same mother. But that never affected their relationships with their younger brothers. They were always a family.
“Yeah, well, I don’t have much to do with him anymore. I had to come to this wedding, but I don’t want to go alone. So, you want to come? Maybe pretend to be my boyfriend or something?”
He’d probably rather stick that high heel in his eye.
“No.”
“I get it.” Her words were calm, but her shoulders slumped, making him feel like an asshole.
Shit. He probably should have softened his rejection.
“Nothing against you. I don’t know you. I have other plans.” Not exactly a lie. It’s just that his plans included poker with Tanner, Raid, Beau, and Flick. Which he could easily get out of.
But he didn’t want to.
“Sure. I get it. I wouldn’t want to spend Saturday night with me either. If you’ll excuse me, I gotta pee.”
She jumped from the stool, stumbling slightly. Jesus. How much had she had to drink? Who was meant to be looking after her?
He rubbed his hand over his face and beard. They weren’t in Haven, where all the women had a guardian. No one was likely in charge of her.
He tapped his fingers against the bar, staring down at his tattooed hand. Was she okay? What if she got into trouble on the way to the toilet? She could fall over or ask another stranger to go as her date to the wedding. If they’d been in Haven, he wouldn’t worry.
