The idea of those legs wrapped around me made me tremble. I kept my eyes on the road, and when she shifted, I didn’t look down. She was moving her legs. Damn.
When I parked in front of the office, she opened the door immediately and jumped down. Shit. Was she moving to let Bethy into the passenger seat? I didn’t want Bethy next to me.
Blaire had started for the door when it opened, and out stepped Bethy, dressed like she charged for sex. Red leather shorts? Really?
“What the hell are you doing in one of Rush’s rides?” she asked, looking at the Range Rover and then back at Blaire.
“He’s going with us. Rush wants to check out a honkytonk, too. So . . .” Blaire glanced back at me.
“This is seriously going to cramp your chances of picking up a man. Just saying,” Bethy said, as she walked down the steps. Then she paused and took in Blaire’s outfit. “Or not. You look hot. I mean, I knew you were gorgeous, but you look really hot in that outfit. I want me some real cowgirl boots. Where’d you get those?” No shit. She looked f**king amazing. I hadn’t spent time around Bethy, but I liked the fact she wasn’t too catty to admit that Blaire looked amazing.
“Thank you, and as for the boots, I got them for Christmas two years ago from my mom. They were hers. I had loved them since she bought them, and after she got, after . . . she got sick, she gave them to me.”
My chest constricted. I hadn’t known they were her mother’s. Fuck. I’d been thinking about doing naughty things to her in them, and they were a memory from her mother. I felt like an ass.
“Your mom got sick?” Bethy asked. Apparently, they hadn’t talked much. Or was I the only one Blaire had told about her mom?
“Yeah. But that’s another story. Come on, let’s go find us some cowboys,” Blaire said, waving off her question. She wanted to find a cowboy. Damn, that made it hard to breathe. She wouldn’t have a hard time finding a man with a pulse. They were all going to come running when they saw her. I couldn’t hinder her fun time. She’d never let me come with her again.
Finding a way to stay close and watch her without getting in the way was going to be tricky. And hard as f**k. I was going to want to rip the arms off anyone who touched her. I wasn’t making any promises if someone touched her ass. It would be on then.
Bethy sauntered toward the Range Rover, grinning at me like she knew my secret. Then she walked past the passenger door and opened the door to the backseat. “I’ll let you ride up front, because I have a sneaky feeling that is where the driver wants you,” she said, as she let her hair fall over her face and winked at me.
Huh. This girl wasn’t so bad after all.
Blaire climbed back into the front seat and smiled at me. “Time to get our country on,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rush Finlay going to the honky-tonk. My, my, my, what a funny thought,” Bethy said in an amused tone that said she understood exactly why I was here.
“Funny,” I agreed. “Where we headed, Bethy?” I asked her, to distract her from going any further with the teasing and embarrassing Blaire.
“Head toward the Alabama line. It’s about thirty miles that way,” she told me. I’d figured it had to be a drive. No places in Rosemary Beach or its surrounding areas were where you would find honky-tonk patrons.
Bethy talked about work that day and all that Blaire had missed. Some drama with cart girls. Apparently, one had the hots for Jimmy, who was a server in the restaurant at the club. She got mad at another girl because she was flirting with Jimmy. Jimmy was well loved among the cougars at the club, too. Problem was, Jimmy preferred men. It was a big secret, because Jimmy liked the tips he got from the older female members. So they were all wasting their time. Most people didn’t know he batted for the other team.
Blaire found this funny, and I enjoyed listening to her laugh. I even turned the music down so I could focus on what she was saying to Bethy. She tried to include me some, but mostly she listened to Bethy talk.
We pulled up in front of a bar I recognized. I should have known we were headed here when Bethy had said to head toward the Alabama state line. This wasn’t just any bar. It was a famous one. Rednecks from all over made their way here to have a beer.
Blaire opened her own door before I could get to her. I decided to back off some and let her enjoy herself. At least the best that I could. I walked beside them as Bethy explained about the bar and why it was famous. After opening the door to the bar, I stepped back and let the girls enter. Blaire’s eyes were wide as she took in the place. Bethy explained that the live band would start up soon, and Blaire’s smile got bigger. I didn’t look around. I knew men were checking her out, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I kept my focus on her. Then Bethy mentioned tequila shots. Bad idea.
I moved behind Blaire and placed my hand on her back. She might not realize it, but it showed possession, and these ass**les needed to know I was with her. I led the girls over to an empty booth farther away from the dance floor. The music was so damn loud I couldn’t hear Blaire’s soft voice.
Blaire slid in on one side, and I made sure to stand so that Bethy had no choice but to push me aside or sit across from Blaire. Then I slid in beside Blaire. Bethy didn’t miss my move and shot me a glare. She wanted Blaire to hunt for cowboys tonight.
I wasn’t going to make that easy. Even if Blaire wanted to,
I wasn’t sure I could physically allow her to without beating some ass-wipe’s head in.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked, leaning down toward Blaire’s ear so she could hear me. And so I could smell her.
“I’m not sure,” she said, and glanced over at Bethy “What do I drink?” she asked her.
Bethy looked surprised and laughed. “You haven’t been drinking before?”
No, she hadn’t been drinking before. Could Bethy not look at Blaire and be able to tell this?