by Jennah Scott
Angelica went back in her room and took off the skirt and shirt she’d worn to the shop. Even though Ryke had seemed ready to go earlier, she had to look her best. At least Ray had helped her make that decision.
A change was definitely in order for the night. Angel’s closet was full of clothing she loved, reds, blacks, whites and greens, all different styles and cuts, but there was one outfit in particular that brought out every ounce of pure woman she had.
Angel grabbed hold of her rocking red lipstick and reapplied for confidence. Something about him seemed to knock her off kilter, and she had a feeling she was going to need the extra confidence tonight.
Chapter 7
The front door slammed behind him on his way out. The air was warm but not suffocating. Soft orange light glowed around the pub. Ryker tried not to get his hopes up that Angel would show. It would be just like a woman to tease and then call him in the morning, asking how his night went.
The short walk across the yard and lot from his house did wonders to ease the anxiety strumming through his body. There wasn’t anything special about the plain cinderblock building, but it had nursed many lonely nights and many bad decisions for Ryker. It was a sort of comfort to pass through the painted brown doorway into the low lights of the pub. He glanced around when he entered, taking in the familiar surroundings. Dim lights showed the wood paneling that covered the bottom half of the wall. Rhonda sat at a table across the way, her purple glittery purse seemed to kick the little bit of light there was off onto the wood. The sparkles fit her personality as she sat giggling with Larry.
The smudges on the rest of the walls where fists missed their targeted teeth and hit instead weren’t visible, nor were the scratches where more than one beer bottle had been broken in both fun and violence. To say the place wasn’t classy was an overstatement, but it was close to home and the bartenders all knew him. It was a place to veg without looking unsociable.
All the cracked, colored glass fixtures hanging from the ceiling couldn’t keep the light from bouncing off the bright smile on Rhonda’s face. Larry had done a good job finding her, a woman who was compatible with him even in their differences. For a moment the thought filled his brain; it would be nice to have that, to have someone, the same someone, waiting for you every morning and every night, to be with someone who knew you completely—what revved you up and made you tick.
Past the old cork bulletin board, Ryker sidled up to the bar, leaning his elbows on the bruised and scarred wood. “Tequila shots, three.” Ryker tapped on the bar and held his fingers in the air.
With the sound of the front door opening Ryker looked over his shoulder and was granted the vision of two gorgeous women. Of course, only one of them had him on a tilt a whirl of desire.
Angelica wore denim shorts that cut just at the hips leaving a sliver of uncovered skin between her bellybutton and the bottom of her shirt, a black shiny halter-top with cherries all over it. A large pair of cherries hung from a silver chain around her neck, just above her breasts. The fabric of her shorts clung to her hips and the tops of her thighs, leaving very little to Ryke’s imagination. Not that he was complaining; with all of his blood draining south, he’d be out of his mind soon enough. No reason to do more thinking than necessary.
He angled away from the bar to watch Angel more closely. She seemed almost skittish, or unsure, something completely unlike the tigress he had encountered earlier in the day. She looked at him, and then around at the rest of the room.
Ray said something before patting her on the shoulder and making her way through the people trickling in to his side.
“Good to see you again.”
He gave Ray a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “You two look like you’re out to start trouble.”
They both watched Angel stare at him. Ryke was exposed under her intent gaze. He wondered if she even realized that crooked tooth of hers was biting down on her bottom lip, enticing him. She didn’t even notice his friend approaching her. That kind of intense focus, the amount of promise he caught in her gaze … it was almost too much.
“She’s pretty discreet, huh?” RayAnne laughed and motioned to the bartender to bring the shots to her instead of Ryker.
Chapter 8
Ray had walked in behind Angel, pausing patiently while Angel tried to catch her breath. Her stomach had been heavy as lead, yet managed to flutter about like a whole hive of angry bees.
Angel could hear the smile on Ray’s voice as she felt the gentle pat on her shoulder, “I’m going to go get drinks.”
In truth, she had thought about following, but stopped to take a minute to study every inch of the man instead. It couldn’t hurt to take a step back anyway, she felt as if she’d stumbled over her feet from the minute she stepped through the entrance. Whether she wanted the added anticipation for later that night or there was something about him that made her need to be desired, she wasn’t sure. But he knocked her off kilter with a force she hadn’t felt before. A force that would be fun to revel in later. Their physical attraction was instantaneous and Angel wanted to explore it.
Alone at a random table, Angel had seldom felt more out of place. She didn’t know any of these people. A few of them turned their gazes to her but she held steadfast to the visual of Ryker. If she didn’t recognize the small minds around her, if she only held on to the anticipation of what she wanted from him that night, it was just another night at a bar. The bees could rest, her shoulders could lighten—she was being utterly ridiculous. And yet her breath caught and her palms became sweaty.
Ryker leaned against the bar, his back to her, one foot propped up on the thing footrest running the length of the bar. His jeans fit snug over his ass and legs. The muscles in his arms and back pulled tight beneath his black T-shirt, muscles honed from hours of working on cars and more than likely a fair amount of exercise. He turned and looked back at her, the sight of his acknowledgement making her forget the smell of stale urine coming from near the bathroom doors and the smoke-killed-with-air-fresheners-then-smoked-in-again scent that overwhelmed the place.
She replayed in her mind the comfortable way Ray had approached and talked to him. The way normal people could interact with each other, normal people who had lived in the same town for years and took a risk in getting to know their neighbors. The whole thing seemed too good to be true, like the television shows and movies she watched, but that wasn’t real life. Not real life like she knew it to be.
“You ordered the purple paint, didn’t you?”
The man she saw leaving Ryke’s at the same time she came in that afternoon stood next to the table Angelica picked. The woman sitting at his table had been with him earlier, too. He was well over six foot tall and bald as a baby’s behind, though red hair trailed off of his chin in a rough-looking sort of beard. The short sleeves of his T-shirt revealed less impressive ink covering his arms, though she could see the hidden meanings behind scripture and flags and the beak of an eagle peaking around from the inside of his bicep.
Between his beard and ink, any woman who judged a book by their cover would have grabbed her purse and ran when they saw him approaching. But considering she’d been on that side, where people averted their gazes as soon as she walked up, it hadn’t crossed her mind to turn from him. This man had gone through things, war things if she was correct in her reading of his tattoos, and he was proud of whom he was—just like her.
“That’s me."
“Could you not tell my girl about it?” He pointed to his date. “She’d find some way to convince Ryke to use it on my truck rather than the colors I’ve already prepped.”
“What’s wrong with purple?”
“Oh, nothing. Except that it doesn’t belong on a man’s truck.”
“Hmmm. Maybe I should be the one to convince Ryke to use it, just to prove a point.” Angelica threw him a sideways grin.
The man guffawed and held his hand out to her. “I’m Larry.”
“Angelica.”
�
�I like you. Why don’t you join us?”
Larry was friends with Ryke, that much was obvious. Friends tied you to places, made it hard to leave. Not that having friends was a bad idea—Angel just wasn’t too used to it. In the time she’d been in Kimmswick, she’d come to count on a couple of people to have her back. Ray was her only real friend. But she wanted to spend time with Ryker, so what could it hurt to make nice with the people he hung out with?
“Sure. Ryker and Ray are bringing over our drinks now.”
Angelica watched as Ray grabbed three shots from the bartender. Ryke tossed his money on the bar and grabbed the remaining two shots. They approached the table where Angelica, Larry and Rhonda sat. Ray’s smile was genuine as she introduced herself. A country song came on the jukebox and she bounced on her toes, causing her breasts to jiggle and almost pop out from beneath her shirt.
Ray spun around on the pointed toes of her cowboy boots, pulling at her hair. “Ugh! Someone has to dance with me!” Ray kicked her feet to the words of the song, her hips swung back and forth while she shimmied and shook.
“Looks like someone needs a dancing partner. May I?” A tall man in flannel, jeans adorned with a belt buckle the size of a coffee table and wearing a cowboy hat stuck his hand out to Ray.
“You most certainly may.” Ray bounced up on her toes.
Ray looked over her shoulder with wide eyes.
“Go for it,” Angel mouthed.
The whole bar watched as Ray took a deep breath and dove in, tugging the man’s hand and pulling him behind her out to the middle of the tiny—and empty—dance floor. With her ass cradling his groin, they moved. Ray threw her arms behind her and wrapped them around his neck.
Ryker’s mouth dropped. “Where did she learn moves like that?”
Angelica tossed back Ray’s shot. “I may have had a little something to do with that.”
“Wha …? How? She’s so … timid at the shop.”
“Well, by all means, if you’d like to cut in.” Angel held her arm out to the dance floor with a snarky smile. Ray’s faux boldness wouldn’t last long; she had an internal timer of sorts. If that sucker hit zero and he hadn’t pushed her envelope any further she’d turn back into a church mouse and nurse a beer for the rest of the night.
“Cut in? Your girl’s one hell of a teacher, Ryke, you need to get Angel on the floor. Let her show you how it’s done.” Larry laughed and rested a fresh beer in front of Angel. Maybe having a few friends wouldn’t be so bad of a deal.
Angel laughed but her eyes found the dance floor again and noticed that as the song went on, Ray moved further away from her cowboy.
“No, Ray, go for the kill.” She cheered her friend on quietly, though not quietly enough.
“What’s that, professor?” Ryker’s chuckle made her heart leap.
“Ol’ girl’s on a timer, if he doesn’t push her soon, they’re done.”
“Oh come on, she looked like she was having a good time.”
“She is, but that’s it, it’s just … good.”
Ryker’s gaze locked with hers, her heart fluttering and mind swooning. She wanted him, wanted to taste him, feel the weight of his body on hers, she wanted him to be inside her—soon. Meanwhile, on the dance floor Ray was imitating some heel-toe-do-se-do crap that Angel never quite understood the point of. The song ended and Mr. Cowboy stepped back. Contact broken, game over.
“Ahh, too bad. I thought he had a chance, too.”
Ray giggled and shook her dance partner’s hand.
“But they could dance again.” Ryker seemed dead set on a happy ending.
“Sorry, Prince Charming, that girl’s carriage just turned into a pumpkin.” Angel reapplied the red lipstick she found so much courage in.
It was great to meet Ryke’s friends and talking was fun and all, but Angel kept flashing back to Ryke’s office. Between the time she left and made it to the pub, her body had cooled some. Then she saw him leaning over the bar, filling out his jeans oh-so-well. Angel was done for. It was time to move the party forward.
Ray collapsed next to her, breathing heavily, her eyes all alight.
“Way to go after him, lover.” Angel watched as the cowboy stood at the bar, tipping back his beer.
“Yeah, man he’s … he’s …” Ray lowered her voice and looked to Angel. “So …”
Angel laughed. “Sexy as hell?” She elbowed Ray. “Yummy, maybe?”
Ray’s cheeks deepened with a dark blush. “I may have gone too far, Angel.”
“What? We were all sitting right here, and you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Ray lowered her eyes to inspect the table with intensity uncommon for a bar. To anyone other than Angel it looked like Ray was searching for divots or a mysterious table secret. Over her head Angel looked to Ryker for help. He glanced over at the cowboy, then back to Ray. His eyes were wide with concern, lips tight like he was deep in thought and unsure what to say.
It was sweet he was worried about her. Angel knew Ray looked up to him, so his compassion wasn’t completely unexpected. Some people may not have seen much in the permanent ink that graced his skin, but Angel had a different perspective. To her, those pieces of art were visual representations of who he was, things that were important to him. His tight ass and muscular arms were a bonus. Add to his character an obvious concern for his friends and hell, he was one layered and sexy man. Layers weren’t something she cared about in the past. They were feelings and opinions and shared moments. That kind of crap led to roots and relationships. Still, complicated or not, Angel wanted a taste of the man across the table.
“Ladies don’t dance like that. We don’t, I mean, I shouldn’t have been rubbin’ on him like I was.” The sadness in her voice brought more worry to Angel than she needed for the night. It was supposed to be a fun night, which led to hot sex, not drama or anything so serious.
“Now RayAnne, you listen to me.” Angel stooped her head to meet eyes with Ray. “You are a hell of a woman, and not too shabby of a dancer either.”
“Hell, Ray, I had to stop myself from getting up and taking you away.”
Angel watched Ray’s eyes, which had turned back to the divots and knots of the wooden table, shoot up to Ryker and then dart to Angel’s face. Her eyes pierced Ryker’s, sparkling sapphires filled with a mixture of humor and patience.
With raised eyebrows and a squared chin, Angel shifted her focus to Ryke. “Oh, you were, huh?”
Ryke nodded, dropping his voice an octave. “Well, yeah. Did you see the way her arms came up around him? It was like she just decided ‘I want this and I’m taking it!’”
Ray covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did, it was pretty sexy, too.”
“Hey. I taught her those moves.” Angel exclaimed, her arms going up in the air. “Maybe Ray can turn you on with some more of my moves.”
She meant it in jest, of course she didn’t actually want Ryke to be turned on by her friend, but somewhere inside of her she really didn’t want him to be turned on by Ray. She steeled her jaw and hoped Ryker wouldn’t be turned off by the joke—or the possibility that she really meant it.
“No! No! Ryker, you don’t mean that, tell her you’re just being sweet and trying to make me feel better!”
Ryker shook his head vigorously. “No, Ray, I’m telling you, that was Grade-A sexy.”
“Stop. You’re making a fool of yourself, Ryke. Please stop. I didn’t mean to make a mess of things.” Ray’s eyes begged Ryke to understand.
Angel rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest. “Yeah … you know, I’m not so sure I don’t feel like a third wheel here.” Except I kind of do.
Angel could see that she and Ryker were on the same page, protecting and comforting Ray, but he didn’t have to carry on so much. Even that thought was unjustified, and left Angel confused. She wasn’t the jealous type.
Ryke laid a possessive hand on Angel’s arm. “What are you talki
ng about? I’m here with you tonight.” He angled his head to her ear. “You do realize I’m here for you, right?” Angel smiled at him.
“Ray’s like a sister. Okay, maybe not a sister, but we’re friends and that’s all. That was my lame-ass attempt at letting her know that she didn’t do anything wrong.” Ryke batted his long lashes at her. Ryker pushed his lower lip out like a little puppy dog and she couldn’t help but laugh.
For someone who she planned to have a quickie with, he’d sure found a way to put a hairline fracture in her shell. Angel wasn’t quite sure how to handle that. So she sat straight up and did what she did best.
“I’ll forgive you but if you want me to forget, you’ve got some making up to do.” She did some pouting of her own, licking her lips as she stared at Ryker’s.
“Sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.”
“Ray, honest, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a good girl, just having some fun and there’s not one damn thing wrong with it,” Angel offered one last time.
The mousy blonde pursed her lips together. “You think so?”
Ryker let out a deep laugh and placed a hand gently on Ray’s forearm. “You’re still a good girl.”
“Yeah, now get off my man.” Angel swatted playfully at Ryker’s hand, feeling the intensity of their touch even in something so brief.
Ray took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right. I’m just not used to acting so bold.”
Ryker stood and placed on hand on each of Ray’s shoulders, leaning close to her ear. “Looked good on ya, Ray. Don’t be ashamed.”
Straightening himself and moving away from Ray, Ryker let a hand hover over the small of Angel’s back. “I think I’m about cashed for the night.”