Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Okay.” I fold my arms and lift my chin. “What does the winner get?”
“Whatever he—or she—wants.”
“Intriguing.” I hand him the darts. “You, first.”
“If you insist.” He flashes an innocent smile that sends a shiver down my spine, shrugging as if the order is of no consequence to him. His body is relaxed, but I can see the look of determination burning in his brown eyes as he lines up his first shot. “Bullseye.”
“Horseshit,” I say without any heat.
Joaquin laughs and sends a sexy wink in my direction before he sends another dart flying at the board. “Shit. Triple twenty.” He shrugs it off, and with laser focus, sends the third dart right into the heart of the bullseye. “Your turn.”
I take the darts and ignore the satisfied smile lighting up his face. There’s no way in hell I’m going to beat his score, but I’m not a quitter, and I really want to dictate what I get from Joaquin tonight.
“You got this,” he says in a low, supportive tone. It really shouldn’t make me hotter, but holy hell, it does.
I look over my shoulder at the heat in his eyes, and my pussy pulses so wildly between my thighs, I have to squeeze them together until my kneecaps ache. With my gaze on his, I shoot the first dart, relying on Joaquin’s reaction to see what I hit. “Good?”
He nods toward the board. “See for yourself.”
“Bullseye!” It’s a lucky shot, but it makes me happy, and I lean into it since there’s not much to be happy about right now. The next two shots, a double twenty and a triple five. “Son of a bitch.”
My shoulders sag in disappointment, but when I turn toward Joaquin, he has a full shot glass in his hands, shaking it temptingly. “Drink up and tell me what’s wrong.”
I take the shot and knock it back quickly, letting the feel of the burn flood my veins and my extremities. I shake my arms out and nod for him to pour another shot as I prepare to do something I rarely do, tell my inner thoughts to a man.
“It’s nothing big, I’m just worried about Maven and how she’s going to hold up in jail, and then there’s my friend, Sandee. I haven’t heard from her in a while, and I’m worried. Really worried.”
Just thinking about Sandee again breaks the dam, and I feel the tears sting the backs of my eyes. I shake my head and turn away. “I’ll, uhm…I’ll be back. Thanks for the chat.”
I head toward the back exit where the guys usually smoke because I need something else, something stronger than tequila or maybe just something that will quiet the worry.
At least for a little while.
The night is cool, and the sky is cloudless, allowing a few stars to shine despite the light and pollution. I exhale deeply and pull out my hot pink vape. It’s loaded with the Afghan Kush that helps me sleep at night. The pain and worry don’t go away, but they both shut the fuck up a little bit, and I start to relax.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I don’t look because I know, somehow I just know, it’s Joaquin. He hands me the bottle. I take a sip and hand it back, watching as he puts his lip on the edge to take a sip for himself. “It’s all right to worry about your friends. We all worry.”
“Even you?” It’s weird to think about a guy like Joaquin or any of the Reckless Souls having such basic emotions as worry.
He laughs. “Of course. Two of my closest friends are missing, and I have no fucking clue where they are. I’m worried as fuck, but I have to be able to move ahead, to live my life because it’s not just Devon and Jordi relying on me. It’s the guys that are still here and their women and kids, all of those people need us to be at our best, no matter what other shit is going down.”
His words hit me weird. Like he understands what I’m going through, and is actually trying to help, instead of just getting in my pants. Then again, I really want in his pants, so I kind of want him to want to get into mine.
“So, you’re saying suck it up and deal with it?”
“Yes and no. Feel your feelings, Willow. You have to, or they’ll bite you in the ass at the worst possible time.”
His words are a warning, and I nod my acceptance. “Thanks for that.”
He lets out a huff of laughter. “Thanks, but shut the hell up?”
I shake my head and take the Patron bottle from him, stealing a quick sip before I set it beside the ashtray on the picnic table. “Just thanks, Joaquin. For the advice. For the company.”