Page 79 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Wait, this isherbar?

She glanced in the direction Sandy had gone, ready to ask her about it, but she was nowhere in sight. Instead, her gaze landed on the customer who had pulled Sandy away.

Oh fuck.

Allison’s heart thudded in her chest as she caught sight of the man across the bar. He was tall, with dark, neatly combed curls, dressed head to toe in black—a sleek black shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, and slacks that fit just right. There was something about him, something magnetic, that made it hard for her to look away. She hadn’t seen him before, yet there was an unsettling familiarity to his presence.

Who is that?she wondered, her mind racing to place him. As if sensing her gaze, the man turned his head slightly, his sharp, angular features becoming clearer in the dim light. His chocolate eyes met hers briefly, and Allison quickly looked away, feeling a sudden flush creep up her neck.

She tried to focus on her drink, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him. There was a subtle, confident energy about him that both intrigued and unnerved her. He didn’t belong here—not in this bar, not in this moment. Yet here he was, as if drawn by some unseen force.

But before she could dwell on it any further, a hand landed on her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts. Allison flinched, turning to see a man grinning at her—a man who was decidedly not the one across the bar.

She shrugged his hand off, turning back to her drink and cursing at her rotten luck.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Haven’t seen you around before,” the man drawled, his voice thick with sleaze.

Allison didn’t bother looking up. “You have five seconds to get away from me,” she said, her tone as cold as ice.

Sandy had seen that flicker of fire in Allison’s eyes before, and she had no intention of letting any foolish guy ruin her night. She’d already dealt with one creep a few minutes ago, and the encounter had only stoked the flames of her irritation. The alcohol coursing through her veins wasn’t helping either; it waslike gasoline on the fire, fueling her determination to shut this guy down before he even had a chance to say “horny.”

Her pulse quickened, and her fists clenched, ready for whatever came next. She wasn’t just going to get him away from her—she was going to make sure he thought twice before bothering anyone else ever again.

The man chuckled, a low, mocking sound that grated on her nerves. “Or what, doll? You gonna bite me?”

Allison finally turned and met his gaze, her eyes sharp and unyielding. “I might.”

The man smirked and reached out, his hand aiming for her ass and every bit of self defense she had learned kicked in.

With a swift motion, she grabbed his hand, twisted it around, and hooked one heeled leg around his, flipping him to the ground.

He blinked up at her from the ground, more surprised than hurt, as Allison casually turned away, dusting off her hands like she’d just taken out the trash. Ignoring the curious looks and whispered murmurs around her, she picked up her tequila and took a slow sip, letting the warm burn of the alcohol settle in her chest.

The fuzziness in her mind grew, and with it, a sense of calm. Allison relaxed back into the moment, the tension from the encounter melting away as she lost herself in the steady hum of the bar around her.

That was, until another, deep, gravelly voice was heard from right behind her.

“That was fucking impressive.”

Allison sighed, prayingthisdude would just get the message on his own unlike the previous two, but her retort died on her tongue as she twisted to look at the man.

His eyes were the shade of rich chocolate, deep and inviting, with a warmth that could melt the coldest heart. Dark curlsframed his face, tumbling in soft waves that seemed to defy order, each one catching the dim light in subtle glints of chestnut and made her want to tangle her fingers in it. A light scruff dusted his jawline, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise gentle features. Dressed entirely in black, he moved with a quiet confidence, the dark fabric a striking contrast against his warm complexion, as if he were a shadow come to life, mysterious and magnetic.

How is this man so beautiful?

Twenty

ANGELO

FOUR MONTHS AGO

“What can I get ya, handsome?”

The voice was smoky, deep, and breathy. Angelo had heard enough voices like that to picture the woman without even looking up. Fiery red hair, dressed in something revealing, with the confidence to match.

He looked up, smirking when he found he was right.

Angelo loved this game—matching people to their stories based on the smallest details. It was a skill he’d honed inboardrooms, reading body language to decide who was worth his time. But somewhere along the way, it had turned into a private little game he played wherever he went, especially in crowded places like this new bar in Seattle,The Olive, which seemed way too small for the amount of people it was currently housing.

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