Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Normally I would have avoided a big event at a country western saloon—there was bound to be plenty of country music, cowboys, and potentially lots of people from my past I didn’t want to see. Bestens wasn’t the tiniest town, but it sure as hell wasn’t big.
But Dani and Thomas wanted to go, and truthfully, I desperately needed a distraction.
It had been three days since Finn and I did… whatever we did out in his backyard, and the memory had been burned into my brain ever since.
His eyes on mine.
How fearless he’d been.
His goddamn thumb in my mouth, and the way I’d been all too eager to suck it clean.
Each day since then, we’d been stuck in a reverse schedule from each other again. He’d gone out to the ranch early in the morning, then been gone all day with massage clients. I’d worked afternoons and nights in the diner, and by the time I got home, he was asleep already.
We basically hadn’t seen each other at all since that night.
There was one night I’d given him a quick nod in the hallway after he’d grabbed a glass of water, but that was that.
Today my diner shift ended early, though, and…
I wasn’t ready to go home.
To face him.
I was the one who’d broken the ice that night when I called him the “Cumshot King,” but I didn’t know where the hell to go from here.
Even when I’d passed him in the hallway the other night I’d felt my whole body go hot. I’d never thought of Finn sexually before—never would have let myself at all—and now all I could think of was the way he’d looked at me as I came.
Game night at the Hard Spot was my best bet.
“There’s always a good turnout,” Dani was saying as we ambled across the street. “Kane never shies away from throwing a competition.”
“What kind of games are we looking at tonight?” Thomas asked, rubbing his hands together. “I like competition, too.”
“Poker, Jenga, checkers, speed chess, darts, pool,” Dani explained. “I’ve even seen teams for charades, once. Every three months they host a game night. It’s a little different every time.”
“Yo,” a voice came from behind us, and I turned to see Max, the bartender, with a big smile on his face. He was in some kind of sports jersey, a backwards hat, and he had neon body paint tattoos all over his face and arms. “Game night. You ready?”
“What are you doing out here?” Thomas asked him with a smile. “Shouldn’t you be behind the bar?”
Max held up a grocery bag, opening it so I could look inside. It was full of limes.
“People started doing body shots of tequila and now everyone in the bar wants to do them. We’re going to need a lot of limes.”
“How does the ghost cat feel about body shots?” I asked.
Max laughed. “I’d say pretty good,” he told me. “No hauntings today.”
“Ghost cat?” Thomas asked.
“Max is convinced there's a ghost haunting the Hard Spot,” I told him. “After some thought, we figured it might be a cat.”
“Probably is a cat,” Max said with a nod. “The movements all match what a cat’s would be.”
We reached the front doors of the saloon and Max went on ahead, pushing them open for us.
I was greeted with everything I’d expected—country music and dozens of different game tables set up throughout the space. The place was crowded as hell already, with people talking, laughing, and starting up some games.
“You weren’t kidding about the body shots,” Danielle said, nodding over toward the bar.
I looked to see someone shirtless, lying down on top of the bar.
He was wearing a cowboy hat over his face, and another guy was leaning over him, licking up a line of salt from his chest.
The small crowd of people around them whooped and cheered as the guy sucked tequila from on top of his stomach, finishing it with a bite of lime.
As we approached, my heart lurched up to my chest.
One of the people in the little group around them was Finn.
I met his eyes and quickly nodded, trying to keep things as normal as possible.
“Finn,” Danielle said, leaning in to give him a hug. “Didn’t know if you’d be coming tonight.”
“Needed a distraction,” Finn told her.
Tell me about it.
The guy who’d been lying down shirtless on the bar swung his legs over it and hopped down.
“Oh,” I said. “Hey, Mason.”
“Howdy, party people,” he said, handing the cowboy hat back to Finn. “I just got a straight guy to lick salt off of my chest, so I’m doing pretty well, tonight.”
“Who was that guy?” I asked.
“No clue,” Mason said with a grin. “I told him to borrow Finn’s hat, though.”
Finn put the cowboy hat on, glancing over at me.
He looked good tonight. Even I had to admit the hat suited him well, somehow making his jawline and cheekbones stand out even more. He was wearing one of his nicer flannel shirts, a brown and red pattern over a white T-shirt.