“I wonder where he’s going,” she says aloud as we head out of town on one of the back roads.
“Don’t know,” I mumble, watching the truck in the distance, which pulls into a large parking lot packed with cars. It’s a Friday night, and this place is hoppin’.
July pulls in and parks a few spaces behind him then waits until the driver gets out before she opens the door of her Jeep, and I hurry to meet her at the back of the vehicle.
“Just so you know, I’m firing you on Monday,” she tells me, gesturing to our matching outfits I made her wear.
“You look smoking hot,” I whisper, but I’m totally as nervous as she clearly is.
With a shake of her head, we head into the building. The moment we walk through the door, my ears are assaulted by the twangy sound of country music, making me grimace. We follow the guy toward the bar, feeling every single person’s eyes in the place locked on July and me. Shit, if I were them, I’d totally be staring too. How often do you see two chicks dressed like cat-women walk into a country western bar?
“Your dad’s in back, bud,” the bartender tells the guy we followed from the clinic. He looks younger than us, maybe twenty-one, especially when he takes his hat off. He runs his hand over his hair then gets up from the stool he just occupied and starts walking toward the back of the bar.
We’re headed in that direction, when someone wraps their arm around July, and I barely hear him say, “Where you going, pretty girl?” over the loud music. My girl elbows the guy, making me proud, and she grabs my hand, pulling me in the direction the guy had now disappeared.
“You’re really getting fired,” she tells me, and I can’t help but grin before I run into her back where she’s halted in place. When I look up at her then follow her line of vision, I see who she’s spotted, and he definitely does not look happy to see us.
“Oh no,” I whisper, watching as Wes puts down his pool stick.
“Run,” July hisses.
“What?” My brow furrows as I look at her.
“I said run!” she cries, and we both turn and start toward the front of the bar. We get down the hall, when July’s hand is suddenly jerked out of mine.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I hear Wes growl, and I know I’m totally fired.
“What are you doing here?” July asks, struggling in his hold.
“Z, watch her,” Wes says, and I see he’s talking to someone behind me. I turn around and stop in my tracks, eye-level with a ridiculously wide chest covered in a white tank and leather vest. My lips part as my eyes travel up… up… and up impossibly higher. And that’s when they land on the most terrifyingly gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my twenty-six years on this earth.
He’s so freaking tall, with a shaved head, short beard, and tattoos that run from his thick neck, and down his arms that would give Thor a run for his money. His muscles look even more intimidating as he crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at me and my 5’2” frame. He’s more than a foot taller than me, but he makes me feel even smaller the way his eyes devour me in my catsuit. Dark chocolate eyes, almost black. Mine narrow, trying to place what his heritage might be. Hispanic? Maybe Persian? I can’t tell exactly, but he’s rocking a tan I’m completely jealous of.
“That’s not necessary. We were just leaving,” July inserts, but when I glance behind me, I see her disappear into the men’s restroom as Wes forces her inside.
When I look back up at the hulking man in front of me, I try to come up with something witty to say in order to get myself out of here faster, so I can just wait outside in July’s Jeep for her, but nothing comes out but a nervous giggle.
“What’s your name, little one?” His voice is so deep it vibrates straight down my spine and makes my knees practically knock together.
“K-Kayan,” I squeak out, and clear my throat, taking a step backward. Maybe putting some space between me and him will help me ditch this timid thing I’ve suddenly become.
“Kayan,” he purrs, as if tasting my name on his tongue. He smiles, and his teeth are startlingly white in his tan face. He takes a step forward as I take another one back, until I find myself between him and the wall next to the restroom. I find it hard to meet his eyes he’s so blatantly beautiful, so I stare at my shoes. He doesn’t say anything else, but seems to stand guard over me, blocking me from everyone’s view.