Page 3 of Hooves & HeartStrings

“One bottle of Busch Light coming right up.”

I stare at her like a fucking creeper as she moves around the back of the bar. She serves a few other people first, smiling at them as she goes.

My head is screaming at me, trying to tell me something. But I have no idea what.

“Here you go,” she says, handing me the beer. Reaching out to take it, my fingers brush against hers. She gasps as I grunt, my eyes widening in shock.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening? But as my body hums, a euphoric feeling blanketing, I know that this woman, this cute, adorable woman with little space buns on the top of her damn head, is my mate.

I guess I am in for one hell of a summer.

two

The bar is packed. Everyone has come out for the annual Summer Kick-Off party. I can feel the light sheen of sweat covering my body, telling me that I’ve been working my ass off tonight. My hands are sore from popping tops on beer bottle after beer bottle, and don’t even ask about all the glasses I’ve washed to keep up. At this point, I think they might be permanently pruned. My tip jar is looking nice as hell though, so I’ll take it.

This is my second year working at the Rusty Piranha and the summer season is always the busiest since we’re a college town and most people take the summer semester off. Tonight seems more intense than last year’s kick-off though and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because it’s the last year our little college town is just that, a little college town. In the Fall, Coral Springs officially opens as the first college to accept monsters and humans.

Now isn’t the time to think or worry about that, though. I need to worry about making money, so I can do anything I want this summer. My parents made me a deal when I enrolled in college here. They would cover all my expenses as long as I was attending classes, but during the summer when I take the semester off, I’m on my own. Which is why last year, as a freshman, I got my job here at Rusty’s.

Looking down at the end of the bar, I see this sexy, mysterious stranger who came in a bit ago, still nursing his beer. He’s quiet, which just adds to how fucking attractive he is. He’s dressed in a hoodie with the whole dark and brooding thing going on, which I find myself liking. He finally put his hood down, but he’s still wearing a baseball cap, his shaggy brown hair poking out the sides. “Are you ready for another beer?” I ask the new future star of all my sexy dreams.

He doesn’t answer, just stares at me, looking me up and down with a confused but curious expression on his face. “What? Do I have something on my shirt?” I ask, glancing down to make sure I didn’t spill anything, and I’m not rocking a huge stain.

“No,” he tells me firmly after a few seconds pass. His piercing gray eyes stare into my baby blues, causing me to suck in a little breath. I feel like my soul has been set on fire and maybe even my panties, too.

Alright then. A man of few words. To some, that might be a turnoff, but to me, it’s making me want to talk to him more. The mystery of him is increasing, and so is the tingling in my core as I think about him.

Trying to ignore that somehow this sexy stranger has me turned on from just a few words, I move to the person next to him, getting them a refill. Repeating this with everyone standing around the bar until they all once again have their hands filled with whatever alcohol they desire.

I’ve been stealing glances at my mystery man all night, and a few times I’ve caught him staring back at me. His face is always solemn, like he’s trying to get a read on me. But do you think he’s said a word to me all night? That is a big fat NOPE. He’s had two beers and has sat there alone all night, just watching.

He sets his beer on the rail, so I head over. “Ready for another?”

“Yeah,” he says, almost as if he’s unsure of his answer.

Fuck, come on, dude. Doesn’t he know bar etiquette 101 is being nice to your bartender? I mean, at the very least, give me more than one-word answers.

I grab another bottle of Busch Light, pop the top, and set it on the bar in front of him. “So, are you new to town? Starting school in the Fall? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Something like that,” he mumbles, picking up his beer and taking a drink.

“Not much for making friends, then?” I tease, causing him to choke on the drink he just took. He hurries to cover his mouth as he coughs.

“I’m sorry?” He quirks a brow at me when he gets his composure back.

“You’re not giving me much other than one-word answers. So either you really don’t want to talk to me or you’re a total asshole. Which is it?”

He lets out a low chuckle that sends my belly a flutter. “Neither. I didn’t want to come out tonight, but my uncle kinda forced me to get out of the house and check out the town. I guess sitting inside all day isn’t a way to spend the summer.”

“So you are new to town. Well, welcome to Coral Springs and the Rusty Piranha. I’m Marley,” I tell him, reaching my hand across the bar top for a handshake.

He stares at my hand for a minute, like the damn thing might bite him, before clasping it in his giant hand and giving it a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Marley. I’m Lucius.”

A shock radiates through my hand the minute we make full contact and I gasp. “That's the 2nd time you've shocked me tonight.”

“Shit. Sorry,” he says as he pulls his hand away quickly.

“Don’t be,” I tell him, feeling kind of bad at the slight fear in his eyes. Did he think he hurt me? “Just a little static shock. I just wanted to give ya hell.” I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. “Well, Luci, I better tend to some of these other patrons or they’ll riot. I get off at midnight. If you’re still here, I’ll buy ya a beer.”

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