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“Uh, boss? Why are you behind the bar?” A nervous question from the new bartender. The one he’d been determined to check on moments before.
Now, however, he just bluntly told the new hire, “Fuck off,” because he had other priorities. Priority one was currently dodging her way through the crowd and coming right toward him.
And he was not moving.
Avalon Trahan. In the freaking delectable flesh. All grown up—very grown up. With curves that could—and probably had—made plenty of men drool. She wore a simple black dress. One that fell to her knees. One that curved around her throat and shoulders. Not like the damn thing plunged daringly between her breasts or flashed the tops of her silken thighs. If only. But it did fit her like a second skin. Sleek and sexy. And when she approached the bar—gazing at him with a faintly curious expression—he wondered exactly how he was staring back at her.
With stark hunger? Dark obsession? Both?
And she probably has no fucking idea who I am. Because as far as Avalon knew, it had been well over fifteen years since their paths had last crossed.
As far as she knew.
“Uh, hello.” Her voice rolled over him. Soft and husky and fucking hot.
He growled.
Her eyebrows shot up.
The new bartender edged closer. Hadn’t he told Shaun to fuck off? Beau was pretty sure he’d been damn clear about that. Just in case, Beau’s head turned toward the bartender. “I’ve got her.” Always.
Shaun’s head bobbed in a quick nod before he did an about-face and hurried toward the other end of the bar.
Beau looked back at her. She’d reached for one of the drink menus that had been left on the top of the bar’s counter. For a moment, his gaze got caught on her delicate fingers. Then his stare trickled up. Lingered on the tattoo that circled her right wrist. At first glance, some might mistake it for a bracelet because the dark ink was so intricately and perfectly designed. But, no, that wasn’t some bangle circling her wrist. It was beautiful ink.
“So, what’s good in this place?” Avalon asked as her attention seemed to focus on the drink menu.
“There is nothing good here.” Could he sound less growly? Not at the moment. Totally beyond his capabilities. “You should get the hell out.” There. Done. He’d warned her away.
She lowered the menu. Tilted her head to the side. And stared at him with curiosity clear in her eyes. Not fear. Not anger. Curiosity. Oh, hell.
One of the many things he knew about Avalon? Curiosity was killer for her.
“Why would I want to leave? I just got here.” Her smile bloomed. Double freaking dimples. Cute on her when she’d been a teen. Sexy as fuck now. “Besides,” Avalon continued as she winked at him, “maybe I could go for a bit of bad.”
The loud drumming of his heartbeat filled Beau’s ears.
“Will I find that here?”
His hands were still flattened on the bar’s counter. He found himself leaning forward. His nostrils flared as he caught her scent. Light. Floral. Not jasmine. Was it…lavender?
“You seem familiar to me.” Her gaze sharpened on him.
The fuck, no. The last thing he needed was for her to recognize him. Fifteen years. Surely, she would not know him. He wasn’t some scrawny-ass kid any longer.
She pulled in her lower lip. Nibbled it lightly.
Sonofa—
“Have we met before?” Avalon asked him.
He stared straight back at her. “I have no clue who you are, lady.” What? Like he couldn’t lie? He excelled at lying. Stealing. Ass kicking. Oh, he certainly had lots of useful skills. Typically, the bad kind. Ask anyone. There was a reason the cops in Savannah, Georgia, tended to skulk around him. They were always trying to lock him up for some crime or another.
Too bad for them, they had trouble making charges stick.
“No clue, huh?” Her delicate jaw seemed to tighten for a moment. “How unfortunate.”
“Not really.” Time to move away from the bar. Let Shaun do his job before the poor asshole passed out over there. Beau could feel the guy’s nervous looks. If Avalon wasn’t going to leave the bar, then he would get the hell away from her before he did something that he would regret. Something like, oh, say…
