Page 13 of Enamored
“Never seen you here before. Are you here on vacation?” The bartender puts the drinks in front of us, and Emmett hands a twenty-dollar bill to the guy.
“Work, actually. I’m helping redesign some cabins out atBlack Stallion Ranchfor Tristan Ellis.” The man’s eyes darken a fraction, and I wonder what their story is. I tilt my head to the side, my curls falling over my shoulder. “Are you familiar with it?”
He takes a long sip of his drink and licks some stray liquid from his upper lip with his tongue. My mind wanders to Tristan and the way he used his tongue on me tonight. How he took what he wanted, made me turn to putty in his hands after a simple kiss.
“Yeah. I know the place.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I pull it out, the screen lit up with a new message from Tristan. I swipe out of it, roll my eyes, and put it away, my attention on Emmett once again. He’s a construction worker and, according to him, is very good with his hands. I laugh at his innuendo as Holden wraps his arms around my waist and holds me against his chest.
Emmett narrows his eyes in Holden’s direction. “Can I help you? We’re having a conversation here.”
“Not at all. Lana invited me out tonight.” He smiles wide and presses a wet kiss to my cheek.
I wipe at the spot and wriggle out of his hold. Both men stare one another down, and I roll my eyes, kicking back the rest of my drink. I don’t have time for their shit. “Emmett, want to dance?”
He gives Holden a cocky smirk and takes my hand, pulling me with him. I make it about two steps before Holden takes my other hand, keeping me in place. I glance back at him, and his expression softens. It’s a silent plea to not dance with Emmett.
I sigh. “You told him, didn’t you?” I pull my hand out of Emmett’s grasp, motioning for him to give me a second.
Like a kid who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he lowers his eyes. “Yeah. He knows.”
I look to the door right as Tristan walks through, all tough and sexy. He’s wearing a cowboy hat with a plaid shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jeans that hug every damn curve, and thick boots. This is not the same boy I met all those years ago. This Tristian is one-hundred percent alpha male, and my mouth waters at the sight of him.
Time stands still. He doesn’t even have to scan the crowd. It’s like he knows exactly where I’m standing. He smirks when he finds me in the crowd. Me. His intended target. I’m frozen in my place as I watch him easily navigate around chairs and patrons. A woman steps out in front of him and puts her hand on his chest. Her flirty giggle makes me want to gag. He leans his ear close to her lips and smiles when she whispers something to him.
I’ve seen enough. I extract myself from Holden and take Emmett’s hand, leading him out onto the dance floor, just as the song changes to a slow melody. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me snug against him as I lock my arms around his neck.
As we turn slowly, I seek Tristan out in the crowd. He’s leaning casually against the bar, a beer in his hand. The girl who stopped him is standing in front of him, but his eyes are locked on Emmett and me. A rush of excitement courses through me as his gaze flicks between Emmett and me and a frown tugs at his lips. I want this man jealous. I want him to feel just an ounce of the pain I felt. Emmett lowers his face so his cheek is against mine, and I breathe deep.
“Emmett?” I ask, his stubble scratching my soft skin as I speak.
“Yeah?” His voice is deep and rumbles through my chest. I pull my head back and look back and forth between his brown eyes, searching. I want to do something so bad to set Tristan off, but the longer I stare at this man, the more impossible it is to do. I don’t do stuff like this. I don’t make someone else miserable or jealous because I want to.
“Thanks for the dance. I appreciate it, but I should get back to Holden.” I extract myself from his hold, give him a parting kiss on the cheek, and find Holden still at the bar.
I slide in next to him. “I want to get drunk, and you’re buying.” My gaze lands on Tristan. His jaw is locked, and his knuckles are white as he holds the beer bottle to his lips. The girl still in front of him is giggling. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and a chill runs down my spine. “Holden, switch seats with me. I don’t want to look at him.” Holden glances between the two of us then slides off the stool so I can take over. “Let’s do shots.”
* * *
I wake the next morning, and everything spins. I try to focus on the open door to the bedroom, hoping it will stop moving.How many shots did I have?I try to recount them in my mind. I had the two martinis, and I remember knocking back at least three shots of tequila. Holden made me order some food, and I remember taking only a few bites before I was on the dance floor again.
I toss my legs over the side of the bed and look down. I’m in my bra and skirt, but my top is missing. I squint, trying to stop the spinning as I search the floor for it. I stand, holding my arms up for balance, and turn around. Tristan is asleep in the bed, or he was until my high-pitched squeal woke him.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” I yell and cross my arms over my chest, trying to cover myself from his steely gaze. I try to swallow, but I’m so parched it feels like I have sand in my mouth. “Did we...” I trail off, not even able to finish the sentence.
Oh God. Think, Lana. Think! What’s the last thing I remember about last night? Tristan showed up looking one-hundred perfect sinful. I danced with Emmett. I had Holden order me a ton of shots. My fingers fly to my mouth, and my eyes all but pop out of my head as I remember trying to feel Holden up and kissing him, mumbling something about Tristan getting action.
He raises his eyebrow as he watches the memories of the night play across my features, his cocky grin settling into place. “Your top was scratchy with all the sequins.”
He sits up and pushes the covers down his legs. He’s in just a pair of snug, fitted boxer briefs, and my dry mouth salivates at the sight. Tristan Ellis hasdefinitelyfilled out in the last ten years. His muscles seem to jump and twitch as I freely eye-fuck his body. My gaze settles between his legs, and I heat up as I remember how he looks and feels, how big he was back then.
“Lana?” His voice is quiet, a softness to it.
I snap my gaze up to his and am met with something that pulls at my heartstrings.Longing.It makes me want to run my fingers through his thick locks, pull his mouth to mine, and get lost in him. I kneel on the bed, dragging myself closer to his perfect body. I trail my fingers up the side of his arm to a tattoo over his heart, and he tenses under my touch.
I run my fingers over the black ink, tracing the perfectly formed letters inside the infinity symbol.Promise. Memories of words he said to me so long ago come rushing back.I won’t hurt you, I promise. I always keep my promises.
I look back to him, a silent question shining through my hazel eyes.
