Page 132 of Hell Hath No Fury
Theo, my best friend and the drummer/co-founder of our band, shrugs and pushes the door open as the wind whips behind us.
Warm air tinged with stale beer greets us as we step inside, and I’m transported back in time. Dark wood and low ceilings dominate the small space. Theo’s taller than me by two inches and has to duck under one of the ceiling beams. There’s a well-worn feel to this place.
I’d bet it wasn’t a new bar designed to have this look.
It’s evolved naturally.
They kept it like this.
You can feel the history preserved within these walls.
It’s nothing like the bars we’re used to playing in back home.
While I become lost in the stories surrounding us, potential lyrics bombard me in rapid fire. I pull my phone from my pocket and start throwing them into my notes app for later so I don’t risk losing the muse, knowing I’ll be working on this song while everyone else is sleeping on our flight tomorrow.
Meanwhile, Theo grabs us two beers and hands one to me. “Cheers, man. To our last night in Ellwyn.”
“Cheers.”
I lift the old-fashioned beer stein to my lips but end up wearing it down the front of my shirt instead when I’m shoved from behind.
“Oh my goodness.” A woman grabs my arm to steady herself on sexy stiletto heels drawing attention to an incredible set of legs. Her accent tells me she’s local, and maybe I’d be more pissed if I could stop staring at her long enough to register just how wet I am. She’s incredible, with wavy, dark hair, and wide-set hazel eyes sitting somewhere between green and gold. Freckles dot the bridge of her nose, and a hint of shine draws my attention to her pouty lips as her tongue darts out to lick them. “I’m so sorry.”
I want to tell her I’m not, but there’s a scuffle behind us, and I immediately place myself between her and the outburst before a guy the size of an actual tank quickly moves around me and grabs the woman’s arms. “Are you okay, Pri—”
Her head snaps up, and she freezes him with those gorgeous eyes. “I’m fine, Ben. I was bumped and spilled this poor gentlemen’s drink down the front of his shirt.” She looks around quickly. “Asher and Willa are still on the dance floor. Why don’t you go check on them?”
The big dude nods his head. But there’s a weird look in his eye. Possessive maybe.
“Sorry about that.” The woman grabs a napkin from the bar and presses it to my shirt.
A cocktail napkin.
It’s ridiculous and endearing. After she sees how small it is against my chest, she looks up at me, and her lower lip trembles like she might cry, but she surprises me when a beautiful laugh falls from her lips. “Okay... So this stupid thing wouldn’t dry a mouse.”
A drapey gray sweater hangs off the edge of her shoulders with a lacey black thing peeking out underneath, and my mouth waters at the tantalizing glimpse of skin as she twists to grab more napkins.
Theo looks between the two of us and jerks his big-ass head toward a few empty seats at the bar, then slides onto one of them. His eyes are dancing over our mysterious new stranger too... But something about tonight makes me not want to share her attention.
Not yet.
She pats me with another napkin, while shaking her head at the ridiculousness of her action, and I place my hand over hers, stopping the movement. Electricity arcs between us at the first feel of her soft skin against mine, and I’m held in place, unable to move.
“Really.” I look down at her and watch her nibble her pouty lip while I try to remember what the hell I was even thinking five minutes ago. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time I’ve had a drink spilled on me, and it won’t be the last.”
She bites down on her bottom lip before laughing again, and two matching dimples pop deep in her cheeks when she smiles.
“I’m Jack,” I offer.
Dark lashes flutter against her cheeks as she reaches for my hand. “Rory.” There go those damn sparks again. “Well, Jack, could I at least buy you a drink to replace the one you’re wearing?”
“No,” I answer, and she blinks at me, stunned. “My father would be very disappointed in me if I didn’t buy the first drink.” I place my palm on the small of her back and guide her to the empty chair next to Theo, who eyes her like a piece of candy he wants to unwrap.
She sits primly next to him but turns toward me and cocks her head. “That seems sexist. Can a woman not buy a man a drink?”
“Not sexist at all.” I signal the bartender and order another round as Theo smothers his laugh before I can smotherhim. “A woman can do anything a man can do. Just ask my sister.”
Now, Rory looks between Theo and me, granting him his first taste of her attention. “So, are you two brothers?”
