Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Sorry!” I say when I spill some beer down a poor guy’s back.
“Watch it!” he growls.
Oh God, I gotta put these down!
My hand is aching and my arm is trembling as I hurry to the table. I trip on someone’s coat and I scream as I stumble the rest of the way like an out of control drunk girl in heels. The momentum sends me flying into the empty chair at their table and the beer shoots out all over the huge guy in front of me.
“Whoa!” the two others shout as they jump out of their chairs. Beer pours all over the table like a tidal wave, soaking their laps.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!”
The oldest brother, Jacob Dixon, is glaring at me in his seat, completely drenched while the other two guys, Roman and Easton, burst out laughing as beer drips down from his face.
I quickly place the empty mugs on the table and grab a couple of napkins from another table. They’re only cocktail napkins and hardly do anything as I rush over and try to absorb the beer from his chest.
“Lady!” he growls when I’m approaching his crotch, frantically trying to clean up my mess. He grabs my wrist with a firm grip. “That’s enough!”
I step back and gulp as he stands up, towering over me. It’s the first time I really look at these three guys. They’re huge. I thought the bartender was big, but he’s got nothing on these three behemoths.
I’d be scared even if I didn’t know they used to be military rangers turned killer mercenaries.
I hear a snorting laugh and when I glance over at Lorraine, she’s shaking her head and smirking. “City girls,” she mutters. “Think they’re so damn posh.”
“Those beers were for you guys,” I say as I glance at the empty mugs.
“Well, you really gave it to us,” Roman says with a deep laugh. He’s a big guy with a dark beard and a black beanie on his head. His right arm is covered in a tattoo sleeve and his left is just skin.
“Are you sure that round wasn’t on him?” Easton says with a laugh as he points at Jacob. “Because it is now.”
“Let me make it up to you,” I say as the bartender comes over with a rag. He doesn’t look too happy at me as he starts to clean it up.
Remember the five dollar tip, I try to beam into his brain as he starts cleaning the table with an angry huff. It doesn’t work.
The three Dixon boys move to another table and my heart is in my throat as I follow them over. My pride should be sending me fleeing out of this bar, out of this town, out of this state, but my pocketbook is keeping me here. I really don’t want to lose my job. It’s all I have, as pathetic as that notion is.
“Four more beers please,” I say to the bartender as he starts wiping down a chair.
“Should I put them in sippy cups?” he asks with a glare.
I force out a nervous laugh and then sit down with the guys.
“What are you doing?” Jacob asks as he slides a hand through his wet hair. It makes it all foamy and slicked back.
“What do you mean?” I ask, pretending like a girl sitting at a table with three killers is a perfectly natural thing to do.
Jacob leans forward, glaring at me. “Why are you here?”
“Um…”
This is not going well at all. I’m the only dry one at the table. Easton and Roman didn’t get it too bad, but they still look like they peed their pants.
“Trying to make new friends?” I say with a wince.
Jacob grits his teeth as his fierce eyes bore into me. “Go. Away.”
I gulp as I stand up from the table, watching my career flush away like the spilled beer falling onto the floor.
I screwed up again. It’s over.
Chapter Two
Cameron
The streets are busy by Belgrade Springs standards as I park my pickup truck and step onto the sidewalk. It’s late enough in the evening that the families are leaving the restaurants at the same time as the single people are arriving for a night out, hoping to meet that special someone.
I know how they feel. I’ve been waiting for my mate since I got my first pube at thirteen years old.
I take a deep breath of the fresh mountain air as I look around at the adorable town with the cobblestone sidewalks and mom and pop shops.
Reflex kicks in and I look up at the roofs, checking for snipers. I take in the scene around me as a toddler holding her parents’ hands walks by me, squealing as they swing her over each crack in the sidewalk.
There’s an exit beside the barbershop. The alley leads onto the next street. So does the one beside the general store.