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Winter walked in. Legs for days encased in classic blue jeans. An off-the-shoulder sweater and that damn hair spread like liquid gold all around her shoulders. She had a hot pink jacket under one arm. Hot pink, in a dive biker bar. She looked expensive, classy and elegant, and I could safely say, no one like her had ever set foot in the joint before or ever would again.
I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
Cole whistled low under his breath. “Who the fuck is that?” He leaned on the bar and took a long swallow of his beer. He jerked his head toward the bottles behind the bar. “Give me something girly, a cocktail.”
He was buying her a drink. I didn’t know much about Cole Bailey, but getting on his bad side was the wrong move. Not only that, but his dangerous, tattooed, bad boy looks were like catnip to every woman who wandered through the bar. The man was irresistible, apparently, to the fairer sex.
“She can’t drink. She’s not twenty-one,” I found myself saying.
Cole turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “And you know this because?”
My breath sounded loud in my head. Everyone was staring at Winter. Of course, they were. She was as out of place at The Clutch as an alien would be.
“She’s my girlfriend.” The words left me before I had time to think about them.
Cole eyed me, searching for the lie, before nodding. “Well, good job, Martino. That’s some discerning taste in pussy you’ve got there.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, throwing the rag I was drying glasses with over my shoulder before approaching Winter at the end of the bar.
She had pulled up a stool and was perched daintily on the edge, seemingly oblivious to the hoard of slavering bikers that was forming around her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked in a low murmur.
She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, haughty as a queen. “I came for my portfolio. I need it.”
“And you think I brought it to work with me?”
“How should I know? I just need it.”
“I offered to give it to you earlier, but you told me to jump out the window.”
“A message that sadly, you didn’t seem to follow. Whatever, I need it. When can I get it?”
“Tomorrow. Go back to campus now.”
Winter wasn’t listening. She was peering around the bar with interest. “I had no idea this place was here.”
“Not surprising. You’re not their target clientele.”
She finished her perusal of the bar and turned to me. “Who is that big guy? He’s staring.” She was talking about Cole, clearly.
“Everyone is staring. If you’re in a room, people are staring. I’m sure you’re used to it by now,” I ground out. “Are you leaving? It’s past your bedtime.”
“You’re not my dad, Asher, remember? I’d like a drink.”
“Not happening. I can refuse service to whoever I want.”
“You have major control issues, has anyone ever told you that?” Winter sighed and then turned and glanced at Cole, who was still staring at her. “Maybe he’ll buy me one.”
I put some ice in a glass and filled it with soda. “Here. Go nuts.”
She wrinkled her nose at the glass. “What is it?”
“I call it the Spoiled Brat Special, and I made it just for you.”
She picked up the glass and sipped it, giving me the finger as she went. “So, you have a job after The Dunes and the whole pot thing. Looks like I didn’t mess up your life half as much as you like to pretend,” she murmured.
Whatever I was going to say next was lost as Cole sauntered up behind Winter.
