The air shifts, making it hard to breathe. I grip my beer bottle tighter, watching his every step. People move without being told, conversations faltering as he walks through the crowd toward the bar. Toward me.
My pulse spikes so hard I can hear it in my ears.
“Lola,” Violet hisses. “He’s coming here.”
I know.
He steps up beside us, his broad shoulder nearly brushing mine as he turns to the bar, completely ignoring the two guys talking to us.
“Evenin’, boys,” he says calmly.
The guys nod, suddenly very aware of themselves. One of them mumbles something about getting another drink, and they disappear into the crowd.
Then he tips the brim of his hat slightly toward Violet and me. “Evenin’, ladies.”
Up close, he’s overwhelming. And when his blue eyes land on mine, something low in my stomach tightens.
He turns back to the bartender. “Another round for me and my brothers’ table.”
The bartender moves immediately.
Then the stranger’s attention slides back to me in a second. “And what’re you drinkin’?” His voice drops.
My mouth goes dry. “Beer would be good. Please.”
I sound like an idiot. He probably thinks I’m a virgin who’s never spoken to a man before, with the way I just mumbled out a simple sentence.
His lips twitch, almost a smile. “Beer it is.”
He orders without looking away from me, pays, then leans his hip against the bar. Close enough that heat radiates through my arm. Close enough that my brain short-circuits.
Up close, I notice everything.
The faint scar along his jaw. The dark stubble shadowing his cheeks. The way his hands look like they could lift me without effort.
God.
I could watch a man like this work all day and never get bored. Sun on his back, muscles flexing as he throws hay bales or fixes fences, sweat running down tattooed arms.
And the things those hands could do to me?—
Jesus.
My breath stutters.
“You ain’t from around here,” he says, his voice low and so teasing.
My accent. Of course. I fold my arms, pretending confidence. “What gave it away?”
His gaze drags lazily over me. “New York.”
I blink. “That obvious?”
He smirks slightly. “Got friends out there. You sound like ‘em.”
His drawl curls around every word. My entire body seems to lean toward it without permission.
“So,” he continues, eyes locked on mine, “you new to town? Or just passin’ through?”