Rough Country (Tannen Boys 3)

“You mean sleep with him?” I bite out, not having forgotten about her earlier warnings about Bobby, no matter how kind and sexy and intriguing he seems to be.

“Tomato, to-mah-to. Or maybe he’s just asking you out and it’s you who thinks tour is synonymous with sex. Just go out with him and see. What could it hurt?”

“Me!” I say a little too loudly.

Olivia looks taken aback. She looks over her shoulder toward the door then back at me. “I think maybe I gave you the wrong idea about Bobby. Or hell, maybe I had the wrong idea, along with everyone else in this town.”

“What do you mean?” I ask leerily.

She shrugs, sighing a bit. “Look, Bobby Tannen is a monster of a man, and sexy as fuck to boot. Get it? To boot,” she teases with a smile I don’t return. “Right, too soon. Let’s just say that he has a reputation, but it’s not exactly for being a player. More like that everyone wishes he was so they could get their piece of him. Honestly, I don’t remember the last girl he went out with. So either he’s hella quiet about it, and to be clear, this is a town where everyone knows everyone else’s business, or he hasn’t dated. But damned if he’s not trying his hardest to date you. Lucky bitch.” There’s no heat in the last bit, more of ‘open your eyes, girl’ than anything laced through the words.

She looks at me carefully, curiously.

I look through my brain and my heart just as carefully, realizing something I knew days ago but smushed down deep inside. “Oh, God. I do want to go out with him, but I’m scared because . . .” I swallow. “Have you seen him?”

Olivia grins hungrily. “Oh, yes, I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not on that team, but even I can appreciate that God knew exactly what he was doing when he put that man together.”

I swat at her shoulder, getting her attention, then gesture to myself. I’ve got on my usual work gear, which is also my usual everyday clothes—jean shorts, tennis shoes, and a three-dollar discount store T-shirt. My bangs are swept over to the side, my glasses are halfway down my nose, and my face is bare. In short, I’m just . . . me. Which I’m totally cool with, except when Bobby looks at me and makes me feel naked on the inside.

“What? You look great,” she says, not getting the point.

“He’s not a player?” I clarify.

Olivia shakes her head, eyes getting brighter by the second.

“This isn’t some ‘haze the new girl’ prank?”

“What kind of people do you know back in the city who’d do shit like that? That’s awful, and no.” She shakes her head again, but this time it’s in disbelief that people would be that cruel.

Right as my heart starts climbing into my throat, I realize something important. “It doesn’t matter. Looks like I blew it, anyway, because he’s not here tonight.”

“Yes, he is.”

The door creaks, and when I look over this time, it is him.

Finally.

The air charges between us, across the bar, across the room. I know something has changed. I have changed. But though he doesn’t know what twister of emotions I went through in the last fifteen minutes, he seems to feel that something is different too.

He tilts his head toward the door behind him, not even taking a step closer.

“Hey, Unc?” I say out of the side of my mouth.

“It’s about damn time, girl. Get out of here. I can handle tonight. Been doing it for years by myself. I can damn sure do it just fine.” I can hear the grin underneath the gruffness, and I choose to not argue, even though helping Unc is what I’m here to do. I reach to my belt loop, unhooking the bar towel I keep there and setting it on the bar.

As I pass by Unc, he catches my arm and crooks a finger my way. I bend down and he lays a soft, dry kiss to my cheek before whispering in my ear, “Give ’im hell, Willow-girl. You’re worth it.” He smells like hops and chemicals, with a faint hint of aftershave he probably slapped on hours ago.

I smile, feeling a burn in the corner of my eyes. “Thanks, Unc. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He winks. “Now git.”

I don’t delay any longer because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Delaying the inevitable. I hope this doesn’t go sideways, but as I cross the room to Bobby, his eyes watching me approach with possessive heat and unguarded hunger, I know something important. After three not-date dinners, four conversations, and not even a single kiss . . .

I am Bobby Tannen’s girl.

Chapter 7

Bobby

Today sucked ass. And not in the sexy, fun, kiss that little pucker way. But in the muddy, messy, sweat dripping into your eyes, and back so sore you can barely stand up straight kind of way.