Page 7 of You Can't Fight Lightning
That was it, as far as I was concerned. No more. God, if that was what happened the first two times I let myself fall in love, what the hell would happen a third time?
I was not about to find out.
It was tough.
There were some truly gorgeous men who came in here. Big Pete’s was well known within the biker community. Pete and Loretta were genuinely wonderful. They had no kids outside of four demanding King Charles spaniels, so they treated the staff as their kids.
While I hadn’t thought it was possible, I’d spent the last year here, feeling safe. Secure. To me, it was a miracle.
I’d gotten so lucky.
And that, boys and girls, was why I looked, but didn’t touch. No matter how beautiful the cheekbones, or how fabulous the hair of the men who came in here.
Not even this guy. And he was… breathtaking.
But there might be something wrong with him. He stood just inside the doorway. His lips were parted, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. And he hadn’t spoken a word.
“Hello?” I waved my hand at the approximate level of his face.
The man blinked, and then he smiled, his teeth almost too white in the dim light of the bar. “Sorry. The transition. It’s quite dark in here.” He waved his own hand. His voice was… odd.
I couldn’t place the accent, and I’d gotten good since I’d been working here.
He was right, however. It was dark in here, on purpose. To keep people unaware of how long they’d been here. I teased Pete about it, but he always replied that he was here to make a living and give lots of money to dog rescues when he left. Which made me laugh every time he said it.
“Are you here for the scrimmage?” I didn’t recall seeing this guy at Louis’ Parrot Bay the last time I’d been there. My own personal vow of no more men aside, I would have noticed this guy. How had the Louis’ bar staff kept this kind of guy a secret? If he was on their team, Pete was going to be alarmed.
“No.” The word was rich. “I am thirsty, however.”
“Oh.” I pushed off the bar. “What can I get you?” I pulled my work persona around me, ignoring my heart, which had sped up a bit when the man in front of me smiled.
“Water, please, and perhaps a cup of ambrosia?” He smiled again, as though something was funny.
“Sure.” Pete’s ambrosia was legendary. It had made it onto review sites, and people came here just to try it. I poured a glass of water, and then filled a pint glass with ice and the ambrosia from the large glass jar Pete made it in. I flipped a pair of napkins onto the bar and then set the drinks down on top of them. “That’s six dollars, unless you’d like to start a tab.”
The man leaned on the bar.
He seemed to be thinking about it.
“I can start a tab with a card.” I was trying to be helpful here. He seemed dazed. Which could be bad. But I didn’t want him to leave because frankly, I liked looking at him.
You know, from a distance.
A safe distance.
His full lips curved upward again, and his eyes seemed to look deep within mine.
What the hell? How did he do that? I took a step back from the edge of the bar.
“A tab would be great.” He pulled out his wallet.
I found myself staring at his hands. Long fingers, nice nails, and his hands were big. Strong. Capable.
They were doing things to my insides, things I’d insisted were dead and gone, like my past.
Damn him.
“I’m Z.” He slid the card across the bar and took a big drink of the water.
