“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of alcohol where we’re going.” Larsen peers around the passenger headrest to the backseat of the extended cab where Vi and I are seated. He winks at my friend before facing forward once again.
Opening her eyes comically wide, Vi vigorously fans her face. I barely restrain the laugh battling to escape my lips.
A phone pings an alert somewhere in the front of the truck. I know it’s not mine or Vi’s.
Larsen checks his phone. “It’s not me.” He picks up Adam’s from the center console. “Who’s Josie?” He grins.
“No one important,” Adam replies.
I roll my eyes. I bet he says that about all the women he knows.
It takes about fifteen minutes of riding along a two lane, winding back road to reach civilization. I use that term loosely because this area's version of civilization is not the same as mine. However, there’s a certain charm to this main street and the older brick buildings lining each side. If not for the automobiles parked roadside, we could’ve traveled back in time one hundred years or more.
And once we’re inside Molly’s, the large bar Adam brought us to, that doesn’t change. A decent sized crowd is gathered around the long bar. High top tables are situated near the row of oversized sliding windows lining the front of the building. There must be a killer view of the mountains from here during the daylight hours.
Adam’s palm lands centered between my shoulder blades, firing my nerve endings to life under my skin. It’s all I can do not to shake free of the tingling sensation.
After my shower, I threw on the first clothes I pulled from my bag. The cotton tank top I’m wearing isn’t much of a shield against the heat his large hand gives off. Guiding me toward the bar, he asks, “What does everyone want?”
“A diet soda would be great, please,” I’m the first to reply.
“Have a real drink,” Adam orders.
“No alcohol for me, I’m the DD, remember?”
“I’ll be driving us home.”
“Wait.” Holding up a hand, I bring my lips together in a small smile. “Are you one of those macho assholes who won’t let anyone else drive their truck?”
“Nope, not at all. I’m one of those macho assholes who doesn’t want someone who isn’t familiar with the area or my vehicle having to drive home late at night. In case you didn’t notice on the way here, the roads are really dark and winding.”
“Oh.” My expression is chagrined. “I guess I owe you an apology for assuming the worst.”
“I’m not going to say that I’m not a macho asshole sometimes, but not in this case. Now what would you like to drink?”
“I’ll take a piña colada with extra cherries.”
He asks Larsen and Vi what they want and tells us to find a seat while he orders.
Larsen leads the way through the other patrons to the one open table in the back corner. He and Vi choose seats next to each other, leaving me to take one with my back to the window. I study Adam leaning nonchalantly against the bar waiting for our order. Tall and broad shouldered, he’s eye catching for his large size alone. But once you see his face and his green eyes level on you, like they’re currently doing to me, it’s hard to hang on to your wits.
A tall, model-thin blonde saunters over, placing her hand on his arm, drawing his attention and releasing me from my brain-fog trap. Adam smiles at her before pulling her close in a hug that seems to be overly friendly. She’s probably one of his many conquests. My lips reflexively press tightly together with irritation.
What did I expect? Did I think that because we’re in another state he’d act differently than his norm? He’s been relentlessly flirting with me all afternoon. He can’t seem to help himself. Maybe flirting is all he knows how to do.
Tearing my eyes away, I take in the rustic decor that’s perfect for this location. Pine boards run horizontally up the walls and across the angled ceiling. Round, black, industrial looking light fixtures hang evenly spaced over the bar. The high gloss sheen on the hand carved feature highlights the wood's natural grains, giving it the appearance of rippling water. It also reflects the warm glow of the overhead lights, like the sun shining down on a lake.
When my eyes seek Adam once more, I’m surprised to find him heading this way, balancing our drinks in his large hands. He passes them out without mixing them up or spilling any.
“Thank you.” I raise the glass, slipping the straw between my glossed lips. Drawing a deep pull of the piña colada into my mouth, my eyes close as the pineapple and coconut flavors explode on my taste buds. It’s like a tropical vacation in a glass. If only it contained magical powers that could transport me away to paradise right now.
“Good?” Adam asks in a hoarse tone.
I meet his gaze, nodding. “Sorry. I didn’t realize my enjoyment was so obvious.”
He leans over, bumping my shoulder with his. “It was hard to miss the look of rapture on your face.”
“Oh, God.” Embarrassed, I cover my eyes with my hand. And what strange phenomena is this? I never get embarrassed by men.
Briefly catching my wrist, Adam draws it downward, exposing my face to his appreciative gaze. Placing my palm flat on the table, he releases his hold. “Rocky, don’t get embarrassed because I saw your orgasm face.” A wicked, crooked grin angles one side of his lips upward. “It was hot as hell.”
My mouth falls open and then closes. Then opens and closes some more as I struggle for something to say. Giving up, I wrap my lips around the straw, sucking down the ice cold beverage until pain racks my head. I clap my palm to my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut to soothe my brain freeze.
Fucking ouch.
This is not going how I planned.
6
Adam
“Brain freeze, huh?” I ask, feeling sympathetic.
The only answer Roxanne gives me is a pained whimper.
Shifting on the stool, I turn to face her. Placing my fingertips on each of her temples, I croon, “Relax,” slowly rubbing in a circular motion. She turns into my touch, desperate for relief. After a few seconds, she releases a relieved groan, and I remove my hands.
Her eyelids slowly lift, revealing her look of gratitude.
“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver. How did you know that would help?”
How did I know? I didn’t. I saw her pain and needed to do something to ease her suffering. An urge to make her better hit me, and I couldn’t help myself. That my technique worked is merely a happy accident.
I hold my hands up, wiggling my fingers. “These hands have the cure for whatever ails you.”
“What can they do about bad company?” Her lips quirk.
“Rox,” Violet says her name in a scolding manner. “Be nice.”
Roxanne doesn’t reply. At least not verbally. Eyes bouncing back and forth between the girls, I watch their brief, animated, silent conversation take place.
Larsen stands. “Anyone ready for another?”
“I’ll come with you,” Vi offers with a smile, slipping from her stool.
“We’ll each take another,” I intercede before my reluctant companion can disagree.