My buddies - Liam, Cole, and Lincoln - all tell me to pawn the engagement ring and head to Vegas. Blow it all on pussy and gambling. And maybe even a little bit of drugs too.
It’s not the worst idea.
Even Vince says the same.
He says I can have the time off.
I don’t want to do that.
I stand up and walk out of the bar.
The fifty is the bartender’s - minus whatever my drinks were.
The ring?
I don’t give a fuck about the ring.
All I know right now is this…
I will never fall for that same bullshit trap again… ever.
Chapter One
Jackson
From across the dimly lit bar, with its overpriced drinks, no attempt at any decent music, and the busy vibe of another long workday coming to its finale, I saw her looking at me.
She was dressed to have a night.
Whatever she did for a living, she was good at it.
Not just because she was drinking in this bar.
I could just read it across her face.
The way her hair rested only on her right shoulder. The subtle hint of highlights in her hair - wanting everything to be perfect but not stick out too much like some fangirl for a teenybopper band back in high school - dying her hair, crying during a concert, thinking that it was the greatest moment of her life when one of the guys in the band looked at her and winked.
See, that was kind of my thing.
Reading people well in advanc of saying hello.
Going into the game with all the plays figured out.
I knew her every move, phrase, want, need, and fear.
She was the type that worried about my reaction to her birthmark. Which was probably somewhere visible and distracting. Let’s say it was under her left breast.
To me, why would I care?
To her, it was this glaring thing.
So how would I play it?
Simple.
My tongue would swirl around her left nipple like her tit was a chocolate-vanilla soft serve ice cream cone and the weather was triple digits. That would leave her tingling, maybe a little ticklish, but still worried about her birthmark.
Then I’d go down to that spot… where her greatest self-conscious feeling awaited, and I would simply nuzzle my nose against the mark. Up and down, softly touching, breathing heavily, my left hand then sliding up her body, cupping her right breast.
I’d kiss her birthmark and tell her she was fucking beautiful.
And that… well, that’s just how you do it.
“You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”
I realized I was standing.
I looked down at my best friend, for as long as I could remember - Liam - and I nodded.
“Heard it all,” I said.
“What did I just say, asshole?”
I leaned against the bar and looked at the blonde beauty with the birthmark and winked.
She twirled her finger into her hair.
Ah… another subtle sign…
She was coming out of a relationship that had been going on for a while.
She was nervous about some new guy fucking her.
For that, I was the guy to handle it.
I could make her a nice breakfast in the morning and subtly leave with one last kiss, and just look at her with eyes that would tell her I’d never see her again.
“You were, uh, talking,” I said to Liam.
He snapped his fingers at me. “Seriously, Jackson? I can’t even…” He looked where I was looking. Then he laughed. “Of course. Always a woman.”
“What did you think I was looking at?” I asked.
Liam shook his head. “Where’s Cole? Or Lincoln? They’ll listen.”
“Cole is still at his office,” I said. “He’s the boss man, remember? He had to be a tough guy and go out on his own. And Lincoln is balls deep in his brother’s wedding. Don’t even get me started there. I’ve never seen a guy so involved in a wedding where he isn’t the one getting married.”
“Remind me not to ask you to be my best man,” Liam said.
I slammed my right hand to his left shoulder and squeezed.
He lowered his shoulder and groaned in pain.
He had a bad shoulder from a car accident when we were seventeen. It cost him his chance at a possible baseball career. And it cost me my first car and some money for the fines for being stupid, thinking I could speed up around a curve that was literally called Accident Bend.
“That fucking hurt,” Liam said as he rubbed his shoulder.