Mr. So Wrong Page 7

  “Do you have a dinner menu?” I ask.

  “No, just a menu. What are you in the mood for? We got burgers, chicken sandwiches, nachos …” She stands, waiting for me to answer. A nice charbroiled steak with steamed vegetables would be nice, but that isn’t going happen.

  “I’ll have a burger,” I say since it’s the closest thing to steak. Not.

  “Would you like fries with that?” She waits, chewing some gum.

  “Sure.”

  “And cheese?” she asks.

  “Sure.”

  “And to drink?” Riley looks on edge with all the questions she’s asking me. He probably wants his beer.

  “Whatever they are having.” I smile.

  “You got it, handsome.” She nods and puts her order pad into her apron.

  After she walks away, Leslie starts to tell us a story about her younger brother who just deployed. We all listen intently. The waitress returns with my food and the drinks. I say drinks because she has placed two beers each in front of Riley, Leslie, and Sam, who is just about to finish the one in her hand. She places something amber in a shot glass in front of each of us.

  “Thanks, Crystal,” they almost say in unison.

  “Ready?” Sam asks, lifting the shot glass and looking around the table. Both Riley and Leslie have theirs ready in their hand. I pick mine up too, even though I’m not in on this ritual.

  “And go,” Leslie says, and then everyone tips the shot glass into their mouth and downs the liquid. It stings going down, and I learn its tequila. They place the empty shot glasses on the table and pick up their beers.

  “Need something to warm us up,” Riley says, looking more relaxed.

  I nod and eat the large half pound burger on my plate. At least it’s big because I’m starving.

  “You got a healthy appetite there, Al.” Leslie grins.

  “Papa had him shoveling shit all day,” Sam chimes in, and Leslie’s eyes turn wide.

  “You don’t seem like the rancher type,” Leslie responds. “I took you for a city guy. Maybe a businessman.”

  “I’m a lawyer,” I respond and take the last bite of my burger.

  “Mr. Belmont can be tough,” Riley finally speaks. “When we were kids, we brought Sam home late one night after a party, and Mr. Belmont was waiting outside on the front deck with a rifle in his hand.” Riley laughs, clearly more relaxed now than he was earlier. I guess he would be after the shot, and now he’s on his second beer.

  “Riley, we don’t need to hear stories about Papa.” Sam eyes him like she wants him to shut up. “Besides, he’s already threatened Al with his gun collection.” Sam rolls her eyes. And the conversation shifts to Leslie. I sit back and watch them chatting. It’s nice to have childhood friends around that you share history with. These friends seem to be close-knit. The waitress comes around with another shot. I’ve already had one shot and two beers. I may drink regularly, but I like a mild buzz. By the looks of it, this group drinks to get drunk.

  “Um … how are we driving home if we drink all this?” I ask Sam. I’m responsible for her father’s truck.

  “We can get a ride with one of our friends and pick up the trucks tomorrow. There is always someone that can drive,” Sam explains, just as Kell walks up to the table with a guy that I presume is her husband. “Like Kell for example. She can’t drink so she can give us a ride.” Sam starts to slur her words. I can tell she’s pretty wasted.

  I decide to pass on the shot. I need to get the truck home.

  “Hey there, Al.” Kell smiles. “This is Gage, my husband,” Kell says, introducing us.

  “Hey, man. Welcome to Holston.” Gage extends his hand. He comes off as a little friendlier than Riley.

  “Thanks,” I answer when the girls start shrieking something about the song playing in the background.

  “OMG! This is the best song. You have to come dance,” Sam says, pulling me by the hand.

  “I don’t know how to dance to country music,” I protest. Leslie and Riley and Kell and Gage have already headed over to the dance floor and are dancing and shouting the words to the song.

  “It’s Garth Brooks for Christ sakes. Just come dance,” Sam yells above all the background noise. I allow her to guide me to the dance floor. I have no idea what I’m doing. I sure don’t know the words to the song, but Sam sings it to me. The whole group is shouting the words, and she’s dancing with me up close, moving her body against mine. I may not like country music, but I like watching her body move. I wrap my hand around her waist because that is what I watch the other cowboys on the dance floor doing, and I move my feet. At least I have rhythm. When the song ends, another song starts up it’s a slower pace. I wrap my arms around her waist. Her arms come up around my neck and we move. Our eyes lock together as heat licks through my body, leaving an inferno in its wake. She moves in closer and her breasts make contact with my chest, her warm breath lingers too close. I drop my head even more.

  “You’re beautiful,” I whisper. She doesn’t answer me, but she moves closer and her lips brush mine. Any reservations I’ve had about keeping my hands off her fly out the window, including the fact that she is way past drunk, because we’ve been playing this little dance for days, flirting, getting to know one another. She wants this as much as I do. There’s no denying it.

  I crash my lips to hers and her hands come up and cup my head. The kiss is hot and hungry. Our mouths move, our tongues come out to play, and she tastes heavenly. We don’t stop and my next thought is we need to get the hell out of here and take this somewhere private like the truck. Thoughts of her riding me in the front seat of the truck make my blood boil to dangerous levels.

  I am so wrapped up in Sam, I don’t realize a man is standing behind her with a crossed look on his face. “Excuse me,” he booms placing his hand on her shoulder like he’s claiming her.

  He pulls Sam away from me. My breaths are ragged and my lips taste of her when I try to regain my focus. My gaze lands on him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Al

  He’s wearing a leather jacket, his dark eyes look blood shot, and he has tattoos running up his neck. He looks like the kind of man that doesn’t answer to anyone only now he’s going to answer to me.

  “We’re busy,” I answer, my tone clipped. Who the fuck does he think he is?

  “No, you aren’t,” he scoffs and blows out air with a twisted smile that tells me he doesn’t give a shit if Sam and I were in the middle of something.

  His dark eyes rake over Sam’s body then snap back up to her face and a million words pass in that gaze. Words the two of them seem to understand. I remind myself that Sam had a life before I came barreling through it.

  “Stop it, Blake. You don’t own me.” Sam pulls out of his grasp and turns back to me.

  “You’re drunk dammit and hanging all over this fool. I don’t like it.” He bites while his jaw clenches so tightly I think it might snap.

  He’s big but not as tall as me. I figure I can take him if I have to, not that I’m a fighter. In my social circles, fists aren’t raised. My acquaintances use other means to stab each other in the back. Fucking someone’s wife, stealing a company. Suddenly a bar brawl over a woman seems so simple. Only I’m the odd one out. Sam has known these people since childhood. The name Blake rings a bell. She mentioned him to Kell. He’s one of her hookups. I don’t want to stir shit up. Not when she’s gone out of her way to be kind to me.

  He pulls her away, not giving a second thought to what she thinks. They stop in front of a jukebox at the far side of the bar. I’ve been abandoned in the middle of the dance floor. Gage leans over and whispers, “That’s my asshole brother, Blake. They’ve been off and on for years. Don’t let it get to you,” he whispers then returns to dance with Kell.

  “Yeah, man,” I murmur, but my head is spinning and it isn’t from the alcohol I drank because I barely have a buzz. I stalk over to the bar and order a beer, taking a seat on a stool. I don’t know what’s going on i
n my head or my heart. My reaction tells me I like Sam more than I realize. I’m irate that this Blake seems to be staking a claim on her. My attraction to Sam irks me. I don’t only want to have sex with her. I want to get to know her. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Sam and Blake arguing. He’s got her arm in a hold and my blood turns hot.

  His lips press into the side of her neck, and I’m seeing colors. I jolt up from the barstool ready to stalk over there and state my own claim. My movements are faster than my mind’s ability to catch up with my actions. His mouth remains glued to her nape and from this vantage point, it looks like his tongue has darted out to take a taste. I cringe as he pulls her hips against his and begins swaying with her. My body turns rigid, anger bubbles inside me, pumping through my veins like poison. I’m a glutton for punishment, and I can’t look away. Sam turns her head and the man kisses her on the lips. Fucking hell. I should look away. I need to leave. I can’t leave. Instead, I battle the storm in my mind and try to focus more on Sam, her features and her reactions to the man kissing her. Her brows are dipped, and her mouth forms a thin line. She looks flushed as she tries to push him away. He takes a step back, and she holds a hand up, preventing him from taking another step. They’re arguing as she sways back and forth. I know for a fact she’s had one too many drinks. He tries to kiss her again, and she shoves him hard. He doesn’t seem to want to back away. Before I register my own actions, my feet are moving me across the old wooden floor of the bar and straight toward the jukebox Sam is standing beside.

  My jaw ticks and my fists ball at my sides. I’m going to rip him apart for manhandling her. My breaths are haggard as anger pulses through my body. I’m ready for a fight when out of nowhere Leslie gets in my face, and the look on her own face tells me that she knows what my plan is and isn’t on board. She places a palm on my chest.

  “Hold up handsome,” she says with a worried look.

  “Give me a minute, Leslie,” I ask without making eye contact because I can’t peel my eyes off Sam and that asshole.

  “That’s it, Al, you don’t need a minute. You need to look at me down here and listen.” She grabs hold of my arm, halting my charge toward Sam. I look at Leslie, hoping she has a good reason for stopping me from saving Sam. “Don’t do it. Don’t go there. Sam’s been with Blake off and on a long time. Whatever it is, she can handle herself. You pounce on him and you’ll have this whole bar to fight off.” She reminds me I’m the outsider here. She’s telling me that I need to know my place. Problem for me is that I’ve never known my place. My jaw clenches and my adrenaline pumps hard, spurring me forward.

  “Thanks for the advice, Leslie.” I walk around her before she can get out another word.

  “Sam,” I bark, and Blake whips his head around to look at me.

  “Mind your own business asshole,” he snaps and returns his attention to Sam, placing his hand firm on her behind.

  Sam sways. And I know that these two have a history. I get it. It still doesn’t give him the right to treat her badly.

  “Never been good at that,” I answer as I stand straighter and puff my chest out wider. I’m in full-out alpha mode, and I don’t give a shit about repercussions. What I do know is that I don’t like how this guy is treating Sam. She’s piss drunk and clearly can’t defend herself.

  “That’s too bad. Sam and I are busy.” He furrows his brows and gives me a look that tells me he thinks I’m an idiot, Sam is his, and to bug off. He’s a couple inches shorter than me but just as built, only he probably got his muscles from working the land where I have mine from a gym. Not that it makes a difference.

  “Stop being a jerk.” Sam steps out from under him. “This is my houseguest be nice,” she slurs.

  “Houseguest?” he repeats but it’s a question. His jaw tenses and his brown eyes narrow to slits. “Not sure I like this guy staying in your house,” he says like he owns her. I wonder what kind of past they share that he would be acting like this.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter what you think because you don’t own me,” she answers him back, and all I can think is good girl. She’s not the type of woman who should be subservient to a man. She is strong, smart, and any idiot should know she deserves to be treated like an equal.

  He cuts Sam a look I don’t understand. “Not for lack of trying, Sam. I’ve tried to make you mine for a while now.”

  Another young guy walks up to us. Also, tall and built. He’s wearing a hoodie, a pair of jeans, and his baseball cap is flipped backward. “Everything good, Sam?” he asks. He looks her up and down as if he wants to make sure she’s okay. The tight white shirt she’s wearing reveals just how full her breasts are, and I watch the heat in his eyes grow. I know what he feels. It pisses me off that he’s probably her age and maybe more suited for her than I am.

  “Oh for crying out loud,” Sam shouts. I’m lost because Blake gives the guy a look that says he wants to rip him to pieces, and the guy doesn’t look too pleased with Blake, and all the while they both look like she belongs to them. I remember Sam’s conversation with Kell in the kitchen while I was still sick, and I figure this must be her other hookup.

  “Sam, baby, if you need a ride home, just say so.” The younger one smiles sweetly at her. He doesn’t seem to be as angry as Blake.

  Sam baby? I want to hurl at his term of endearment. The three of us stand and stare each other down.

  A few beats pass as tension dilutes the air around is. Kell steps between all of us. “Hey, darling.” She hugs Sam. Sam looks worn out as she curls into her friend’s arms. “Come with me,” Kell says, but it’s almost a whisper.

  “Hey, Al.” Kell beams at me as she guides Sam away from our ring of fire. Another beat passes, and Kell turns her head and says, “Shows over, boys. Disperse.”

  Blake grunts and knocks into my shoulder as he walks past me. The younger kid gives me a weird look and walks away. I turn and head back to the bar to reclaim my seat and order another Bud. It takes everything in me not to follow Kell and Sam, but I don’t like the scene that just went down. I don’t fully understand what it means, but I dislike it nonetheless. As I take a long gulp of beer, I notice Leslie has taken a seat on the barstool beside me.

  “Hey, darling, you okay?” she asks with a soft smile. I wonder why I shouldn’t be. What does she know that I don’t? I’m guessing a lot, and I’m guessing her lips are sealed too.

  I draw my brows together. “I think so,” I answer. Truth is I don’t know what on earth is happening. I left Chicago because I wanted to clear my head. Now I want another kind of therapy, and it comes in the form of a too-young-for-me rancher that’s about five-five with short blond hair and a nice rack.

  Leslie gives me a sympathetic look. “Sam has a lot of admirers in this town, looking the way she does, and she has a heart of gold,” Leslie explains, giving me information I already knew. Sam has a big heart. She saved my life and nursed me to health, and I was a complete stranger. I wonder what she does for those she loved.

  “I know that. She saved my life.”

  “Yeah, and you’re okay now. Looking healthy and yet here you are, still living it up at the Belmont Ranch.” Both her brows raise. She waits for me to argue with her possibly. I have nothing to contest. I could have called Izzy and told her to pick me up. I could have arranged for car parts to arrive faster, but I didn’t because I was in no rush to leave.

  “I should go. Sam probably needs a ride home.” I point my thumb to the door and throw a twenty on the bar. Leslie looks up and places her hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “Uh uh.” She nods her head, and I’m thinking what is up with the people in this town? “Kell and Gage will get her home safely. It’s better you don’t follow her out.” She tilts her chin to the right corner of the bar. My eyes follow. Blake is sitting at a booth by himself, looking at his bottle of Bud like it has all the answers to life. “Blake is very protective of her, and you being new to town and all…” she shrugs as if I should take the hint “…better not to
cause any trouble. We got Sam’s back. You don’t need to worry,” she says and again, I have no clue what all that means. I also don’t think Leslie is going to give me any answers either.

  “I still think I should call it a night,” I say.

  “Stay a little while longer,” she says and it isn’t a request, but she’s a nice woman and means well. I stay rooted on the stool.

  “What do you do?” I ask because it’s clear Leslie is stalling me, and I’m sick of being shut down where Sam is concerned.

  “I’m in college. Studying education.” She smiles. “I come home on weekends. Holston may seem like a boring little town to you, but it’s our home. It’s what we know and there are good people here,” she explains. I was beginning to understand what she was saying. They may be up in each other’s business, but I could see they had Sam’s back. That they cared.

  “I can see that. I may have grown up in the city, but Holston has its own kind of small town charm.” I’m done making small talk. I want to leave. I don’t want my leaving to end in a fight, even though I’m burning for one. I know my negative energy is the result of months of frustration and tonight that all bubbled to the surface. It wouldn’t be fair to Sam though. I know better than to cause a shit storm for her. Besides, as worked up as I am, I’m more overcome with the need to protect and take care of Sam like she took care of me.

  Leslie’s lips spread into a thin smile. “I know you know that I’m keeping you here, and I appreciate you staying and hanging out. It says something about you.” She eyes me like she’s impressed, like there has to be more layers to me than my good-looking face. Something about the way she looks at me unnerved me. It makes me think of my family. Growing up, my younger brother Derek has always been jealous of me. It never made any sense to me because he was smart. Smarter than me. I had to work for my grades in school, but everything came easy to him. We are only two years and nine months apart. I got a lot of attention from the opposite sex. I’m tall and built, and he’s thin and average height. I never paid much attention to how different we looked. I never noticed a lot of things that I should have noticed. Derek wasn’t oblivious though. Derek was competitive and mean. I don’t realize my mind drifted for long, but when I refocus, I see Leslie looking at me expectantly. I blame the drama that just went down.