Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“One white wine.” I slid a fifty across the counter.

The bartender opened a new chilled bottle and handed me a glass. “Anything for you, sir?”

I shook my head. “Not right now,” I shouted over the music.

The Austin Symphony played on the second level of the hospital. The loud sounds of the cello and violins fell over the balcony, dropping on the guests like rain. This wasn’t my kind of scene. I was much happier in a pair of broken-in jeans, T-shirt, and holding a beer in my hand.

If things played out the way I thought they would, Mrs. Crawford would give me the fix I needed tonight. She had the potential to make me forget the stuffy band. The pretentious crowd. The disappointed looks on the donors’ faces as I walked by.

I returned to the couple and handed Vienna her drink. She ran her teeth over her bottom lip. “Thank you, Luke.”

“Sure thing.” I wasn’t known for being a gentleman, but I did know what women liked. I doubted tonight was going to change that reputation. Especially when I fucked Bob Crawford’s wife.

She placed a hand on my forearm. “You know I watch every single game. Bob and I have a box at the stadium.”

“That’s right,” Bob added. “It was my daddy’s. We’re there every home game. Hoping for some playoff games this season, son.”

I hated when people called me son. It was one of those cocky Texas phrases that seemed like it was endearing, but I knew it was damn condescending.

“That’s the plan, sir.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had any luck in the playoffs,” he reminded me.

I didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “New season. New team.” It was my standard answer.

“And the game against the Wranglers?” he prodded.

“You know sir, we don’t get sucked into that rivalry BS.” It was a lie I told repeatedly. We hated that team. The in-state league rivalry fueled hatred between the San Antonio Wranglers and us every season. Conversations like this didn’t help.

Bob slapped me on the back again. The bastard was staring to annoy the piss out of me. I saw the signs for the silent auction, pointing down the hall and away from the Crawfords. I’d have to make my way back to Vienna later in the night.

“If you’ll excuse me. I’ve got to make some bids. Want to make my contributions for the kids. Nice meeting you folks.” I nodded at them and strolled away toward the room with the auction items.

I started at one end of the long room and pretended to scan over the donated items. Each one started with a minimum bid of a thousand dollars. There were golf packages. Trips to Maui. I saw a signed print of the Warriors and walked past it. It was more up-to-date than the one in Applewhite’s office.

I scribbled my name on a set of golf clubs. I looked around for something else. Coach said I needed to win some of the higher dollar pieces to draw attention to my generosity. The whole thing was bullshit. Tomorrow morning I’d have to tell that dick Charlie how much I paid out.

I moved to the next table. There was a diamond ring. Too small for the Crawfords, I thought. There were fur coats. I saw a trip for two to Greece. I sure as hell wasn’t bidding on that.

“Oh, are you bidding on the horses?” a smooth voice spoke next to me.

I turned to see who was watching me. She was cute, but dangerous. I could tell from the deep V-cut of her dress. It dipped all the way to her navel, revealing creamy white skin.

“Just looking,” I answered. My eyes locked on her stomach.

“I love to ride.” She picked up the pamphlet on the stables. “Really ride.” She grinned.

Fuck. Did Coach know this was going to happen? Was this some kind of personal hell he had put me in to test me? The bartender. The hot as shit wife. And now this little sex kitten talking about riding. My cock twitched.

I took a deep breath. “I’m from Texas. We all know how to ride horses.” I bent down to add my name to the list. I didn’t know what I would do with a pair of pedigree horses, but I wasn’t going to walk away. The woman was basically purring on me, coaxing me to place a bid.

“So, if you win the horses, you’ll take me for a riding lesson?” Her red lips curled in a smile.

“I thought you already knew how to ride.” I straightened my shoulders. She was making this hard.

She picked up the pen from the auction clipboard, tore off a corner of the list, and scribbled her phone number on the scrap of paper.

“If you win, call me. You might teach me something new.” She handed me her number and sashayed away, showing me how deliciously curvy her ass was.