Page 53 of Preacher

“Oh, really? I thought they wouldn’t be done until next week.”

“That’s what they told me, but they ran late last night just so they could wrap it up,” Marissa explained. “I was wondering if you might want to meet me over there and check it out. I could show you some of the new furniture I’m looking into.”

“Sure, that would be great.” I still needed to feed and water the horses, and I still hadn’t showered yet. “I can head over in about an hour.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

I ended the call, then put on some old clothes, and made my way downstairs. Harlan, one of my farm hands, had already cleaned out most of the stalls and was starting to change out the feed and water buckets. I gave him a hand, and once we had them all taken care of, I rushed upstairs for a much-needed shower.

As I got undressed, I tried not to think about Hudson or how amazing our night together had been. I tried not to catch his scent on my skin or feel my tender, swollen lips, but it was tough. I never imagined that I could enjoy being with a man so much, and the sex was even better than I could’ve possibly imagined.

I had always closed my eyes and let myself escape to another time or place, blocking anything and everything that was happening around me, but Hudson wanted me there and in the moment. He wanted me to feel everything he was doing to me and for me to know exactly who was making me come undone. And when he said, ‘eyes on me, baby’, it turned me on in ways I can’t describe, and it turned me on now just thinking about it.

Damn. I needed to pull myself together.

I only had a few minutes before I had to leave to meet Marissa at the casino. I took a few deep breaths, then hopped into the shower. Once I was done, I put on some fresh clothes and pulled my hair into a loose bun. I didn’t bother with much makeup. I wasn’t going to be seeing anyone important—not until later. So, I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my things, and rushed out to my car.

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling into the casino’s parking lot, and the first thing I noticed wasn’t the new awning or the billboard sign. It was the motorcycles that were lined up along the curb. It was official. The Fury boys were making their presence known. They weren’t really doing anything. They were just sitting there, talking among themselves. But something about having them there brought a shift to the air.

They were powerful and fearsome, but they didn’t seem to notice it.

Or maybe they did.

Maybe that was the point.

When I started up to the front door, one of them looked up. He was a big guy with long hair that was pulled back into a low tie. His leather cut fit snug over broad shoulders. Recognition flickered across his face, and he gave me a quick chin lift.

I gave him a smile and a slight wave, then pushed through the doors and continued inside. I was immediately hit with the scent of fresh paint. Curious, I headed straight for the bar. When I walked in, it was everything I’d hoped for and more.

The deep charcoal on the walls was stunning. It was even richer than I’d imagined, and it looked bold and sophisticated against the high white ceilings and the soft shimmer of the chandeliers overhead. It was exactly what I had envisioned.

I ran my fingers along the edge of the bar, already imagining bottles lined up behind it, and smiled. This was good. Very good. I was still taking it all in when I heard the soft click of heels behind me, followed by, “Oh my heavens! It looks better than I imagined.”

“It does look good, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. You nailed it, Tabitha.”

I turned, smiling as she came up beside me with her purse in one hand and her tablet in the other. Marissa always had that pulled-together, city-girl look about her. A sharp blazer, perfect eyeliner, and not a hair out of place.

“It really does look good,” I said, still taking it all in. “That contrast with the ceiling makes the place.”

“I knew it would!” she beamed, then flipped open her tablet and tapped the screen a few times. “And wait until you see these.”

She was practically beaming as she turned the screen toward me and revealed the black leather booths she found. They were sleek with deep tufted backs and brass accents along the trim. “They’re perfect.”

“I thought you would like them.” Her smile widened as she flipped the screen. “And here are the stools.”

“Oh, these are great.” They were round and low-backed with the same leather and brass accents as the booths. “They’re exactly what I was hoping for.”

“I found a local guy who can get these custom-made,” she said with her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Real leather, too. We don’t want that fake stuff that will crack in six months.”

“No, we certainly don’t.” I flipped back and forth between the pages, imagining the way it would all come together. Every detail was starting to feel like a piece of me stitched into this place. “It’s going to look amazing.”

“Classy but still bold.”

“Exactly. This bar’s going to have its own gravity. People will walk in andfeel it.”

“They certainly will.” Marissa slipped her tablet back into her bag, then said, “I have some color swatches that I wanted to show you, but I left them in my car. Give me a minute, and I’ll go grab them.”

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