Page 43 of Danger
I sigh. “One drink.”
Three drinks later and I’m staring at Honey behind the bar, pulling bottles with one hand and texting with the other. She doesn’t bother with eye contact unless you’re tipping.
I reach into my pocket for my phone, and my fingers catch on something else instead.
Paper.
I tug it out. It’s folded small and careful—like someone didn’t want it getting ruined.
I already know what it is. I found it tucked under my windshield wiper this morning before I left the ranch.
Neat handwriting.
Come back in one piece
The only person that makes sense is the fake girlfriend I apparently have now. The one who keeps turning up for morning chores and makin’ Fisher’s day.
It’s nothing I need to look into too much.
But it’s been burning a hole in my pocket all day anyway.
“Charming, heard you're paying tonight since losers buy the rounds,” Honey says casually as I tuck the note away.
“That means I get to spend more time with the bartender. Who’s the real winner?”
Rogue hops onto the nearest stool. “And we need four more shots.”
Trouble raises his shot as soon as she pours them. “To not dying.”
“To not dying,” I say, but the words hit differently after you’ve spent longer than you should have on a bull called Red.
I knock the shot back. It tastes like cinnamon and lighter fluid.
The bar gets crowded fast after that, mostly with women already half-drunk, looking for a reason to keep it going. The men by the pool tables are getting rowdy, cues cracking a little harder than necessary. I try not to look at the door every two seconds
I fail.
Not that I’d admit it. Not that I’d let anyone know I’m hopin’ she walks through it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
danger
The bell rings,and the door busts open. She comes through it like she knows she’s late and refuses to admit it. Winnie moves fast, phone still in her hand as she hurries behind the bar like she’s done it a hundred times. She drops her purse and phone under the counter, barely glancing up.
That’s when the whistles start.
Two idiots at a corner table lean back in their chairs, grinning like they just found exactly what they were lookin’ for.
“Well damn, sweetheart?—”
“Didn’t know this place came with a show.”
Winnie doesn’t even slow down. Just tosses her hair over her shoulder and reaches for a stack of glasses like she didn’t hear a thing.
My jaw tightens anyway.
I don’t know why it gets under my skin—she can handle herself. I know she’s not a kid anymore, but the way they’re looking at her, like they’re currently disrespecting her in their thoughts, has my drink going down a little too fast.
