Page 1 of Cold Snap
Chapter One
TerryTeresa
“So, she says, if it got any bigger, I wouldn’t be in the same room.”
The two men laugh at the crude joke I just made, and for a minute, life is good. I’m right where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Although it’s all a lie.
I’m NOT supposed to be here, and if my brother or father knew, they would lock me in my room until I’m old enough to be a grandmother. Good thing what they don’t know can’t hurt me!
Aarons laughs before reaching out to brush some hair off my cheek, and I brace myself for the touch. Act natural, damn it! Act like you’ve done this before for fuck’s sake. Act like his touch won't turn me into a block of ice.
But he never makes contact; instead, a large hand comes out to stop him.
“Don’t touch, Aarons.”
He retracts his hand but keeps the smile on. And I’m left to brush my own hair back because the big lug who stopped Aarons doesn’t even try to do it in his place.
“I wish I knew Waylon was hiding his sister away from me for so long.”
I give him a wink. It’s not Aarons I want, but I can flirt my ass off because flirting doesn’t mean anything. In fact, hopefully, it makes the one I do want jealous.
“Hey! Watch it, Aarons!”
I giggle and touch the large hand so close to my arm, “Oh, Landry, you know I only have eyes for you.”
I faux-bat my lashes even as my heart gives a lurch when he flips his hand over so he can clasp mine.
Landry Peterson! My own personal crush. He’s been occupying real estate in my secret dreams for years now. I might be a flirt, but for Landry, I’d give it up and only flirt with him. Forever!
“Ain’t it about time for you to go home, Aarons?”
“It’s like that, is it?”
Landry growls at the guy, but neither of them moves. Landry finally stops staring him down and turns those glass-bottle green eyes of his towards me.
“How old are you, Teresa?”
The smile slowly starts to melt off my face, and hurt blooms in my chest over the fact that he doesn’t know something so basic as my freakin’ age, especially since we celebrated my eighteenth birthday here two years ago. He brought the cake to my table.
“You…you don’t know how old I am?”
Damn him! I am not about to start crying in front of him and the idiot beside us. I do, however, take my hand from his.
“I’ve never had to card you, so…”
Because I’ve never been drinking. Ass.
“I’m twenty-six, Landry.” The lie rolls off my tongue so easily. The ass doesn’t get to know the real me if he can’t remember anything about me.
“You’re still a baby.”
I cock my brow at him. He’s thirty-two. His birthday is in March. He likes Rock, even if he plays more pop songs in the bar. There are so many things I know about Landry. His favorite drink is whiskey, and he volunteers a lot, and his schedule when he’s on call for the Volunteer Fire Department.
“Those are big words for someone who doesn’t know me. I could have lived a thousand lives up until now.”
Who cares if they are all in my head!
He brings a bottle of whiskey out from under the bar and sets it between us, “Really?”
