Chapter 15
“You want another?”
The question turned his head and Declan nodded. Sarah grabbed a bottle of whiskey and freely poured him a triple. The liquid burned as it went down but he savored the sensation and glanced around the room.
It was late afternoon and the Voodoo Lounge was quiet. His ass had been parked at the bar for a few hours and the landscape hadn’t changed much. Ransome wasn’t in yet. Apparently he’d taken a drive out to Bon Terre, the town where he came from, to attend to some pack business.
“You got woman troubles?”
Declan downed the remaining liquid and set his glass on the bar. “Excuse me?”
Sarah wiped the counter with careful precision. Her hair was held tight in two ponytails, the faded blond shot through with gray. Though the bar was supposed to be smoke-free, a cigarette dangled from her lips. She took a long drag and blew out a fine line of gray.
“The only thing that drives a man like you to my bar on a perfectly beautiful afternoon”—her eyes narrowed—“is woman troubles.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I like the ambience.”
“The what?” Sarah poured herself a drink and leaned toward him. Apparently the bartenders Ransome hired had free rein with his stock.
“I don’t much care for big words.”
There was something about her that he liked; her simple attitude and no-bullshit way of speaking, for one. Declan smiled at the woman. “I had nowhere else to go.”
“Ah, I see.” Sarah butted her cigarette and threw a towel over her shoulder. “The lady you were with last night, she part of your troubles?”
Declan’s face immediately darkened.
Sarah nodded. “I knew it.” She leaned forward. “A piece of advice?”
Declan stared at her but remained silent. Down the way, the only other occupant of the bar shouted for a beer. Sarah turned and yelled at him, “Hold up, I’ll be there in a second.”
“Not the best way to garner tips,” Declan murmured.
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “He’s a regular. A two-bit shifter from Florida who only tips the first hour his butt is at my bar.” She glanced toward the glowering male. “He’s been here longer than you, so trust me, he can wait.”
Declan indicated he wanted another drink. Sarah dutifully filled his glass and then narrowed her gaze on him. “She’s a vampire.”
He eyed the amber liquid. What the hell was the woman getting at?
“Your lady friend.”
No shit.
“I’d rather not discuss Ana.” A muscle tightened along his jaw as he held the glass between his fingers.
Sarah shrugged her shoulders. “They’re bad news is all I’m saying.”
“You don’t sound like a fan.”
“I’m not,” she retorted. Sarah turned and grabbed a cold beer from the cooler. She glanced back at him before heading toward the shifter at the end of the bar. “Trust me.” She arched a brow. “You stay away from her and you’ll be a happier man.”
It’s too late for that.
Declan remained silent and stared down into his drink. Way too fucking late. He was still angry, frustrated, and if he wanted to be brutally honest, he’d admit that a whole lotta hurt was mixed into the equation as well.
He’d fantasized for so long about what it would be like to have her. To hold her sweet body in his hands and make her sigh with pleasure. He wanted to connect with the woman on a level that was sacred. He wanted to be that guy who stood above all the others. The one she wanted for keeps.
Declan clenched his teeth and turned away from the bar. The connection he’d craved hadn’t happened.