“Alright, man. We’ll let you get back to work. Be back for a refill shortly,” Brandon tells me, tapping his knuckles on the bar. He drags Mason away with him, and I get back to serving drinks to the dozens of people waiting.

As I’m grabbing beers and making cocktails, the bar continues to fill and grow louder. Music blares, couples dance, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a mosh pit broke out soon.

“What can I get ya?” I ask a blonde whose hair covers half her face. The moment she looks up and I see her blue eyes, all the air is sucked from my lungs. Her smile widens, and she tilts her head just slightly as though she’s examining me. Her gaze slowly rakes over the tattoos on my arm before she meets mine again.

“What would you recommend?” The sweetness of her voice has me licking my lips and swallowing hard. She’s stolen my thoughts with one question.

“Uh…um…well…” I stutter because I can’t form a cohesive sentence. She blinks at me, waiting patiently. “What are you in the mood for?” I finally ask.

She pinches her lips together, moving them from side to side as if she’s truly thinking about it. Then she taps her fingertips on the bar. “Something dangerous.”

Good God.

Considering I work in a bar where the ladies parade their asses in short skirts and low-cut tops, I see beautiful women all the time. But this woman—the word beautiful doesn’t seem sufficient to describe her. A mesmerizing light surrounds her, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I’m half-tempted to ask where the hell she came from. She’s stunning, and something about her makes me want to get to know her—everything about her.

“Technically, that could account for ninety-five percent of what’s behind the bar so…” I try not to stare, but honestly, it’s impossible. She has a sweet, compelling vibe to her, but at the same time, she’s mysterious. “You like straight liquor?” I ask.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replies with confidence.

Fucking hot.

“I’m gonna make you something, sweetheart. Sit tight.” I point at her, making sure she doesn’t go anywhere.

“Should I be worried?” she taunts, lifting a brow when I grab the bottle of 1800 tequila.

“Yes,” I tell her. “Yes, you should…” I linger, hoping she’ll tell me her name.

“Lennon,” she announces. “What’s yours?”

“Hunter,” I say, pointing at where it’s embroidered on the left side of my shirt because the manager insisted we display our names.

“Ah, yes. I see it now.” Lennon smiles wide, and it’s pure heaven. “What are you adding in there now?” She leans over slightly when I pour some vodka, gin, and rum. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

I finish mixing her drink and place it in front of her. “Yes, I figured that was your intention.” I smirk. “Hold on.” I hold up a finger so she doesn’t take a sip yet. Grabbing a cocktail stick, I stab a couple of cherries onto it and then gently place it in the glass. “Alright, now.”

Lennon grins with an arched brow. She takes a hesitant sip, then goes in for another.

“Strong enough for ya?” I tease when she makes a sour face.

“Yeah, that definitely does the job.” She blinks a few times. “What’s it called?” she asks, then brings it back to her lips.

My smirk deepens. “The Leg Spreader.”

Lennon quickly covers her mouth before she spits out her drink. She’s holding back a laugh, and it’s impossible not to laugh with her.

“You asked for dangerous,” I remind her with a smirk.

She swallows and nods. “And you delivered.”

Our eyes stay locked as she finishes her drink, not even flinching at the extra liquor I added. Impressive, to say the least.

“Don’t forget your cherries,” I tell her, nodding toward the cocktail stick.

She stands, setting the glass on the bar, and then grabs it. “I wouldn’t dare.” Her voice is sultry and seductive, and if this stupid counter wasn’t in the way, I’d close the space between us.

Once she slides them off and swallows them down, Lennon takes a step back, then stops. “Thanks for the drink, Hunter.”

“My pleasure.” I shoot her a wink, and she blushes before turning and walking away. My heart pounds at the way my name sounds on her lips. I swallow hard, trying to stay focused, but Lennon has knocked me off my axis.

For the next couple of hours, I keep tabs on her as she and her friends dance around the bar. After a while, they come up for shots, and I happily hook them up. She’s cute and flirty, and it’s so damn hard to focus when she’s near that I almost slap myself.

“So what brings you girls out here?” I ask when she and a friend order another round.

“We’re on spring break,” her friend answers.

“Oh, so you’re from Sacramento?” I ask while I help make a fuck ton of margaritas for Greg, so I don’t stare aimlessly at Lennon.

Do Not Sell My Personal Information