decisions.”
“I still think you’re letting him off easy,” Gabby mutters and we share a smile.
She’s the only person outside my brother Hawk who truly understands me. There are times that I think I would go insane without her. She and Hawk have always been in my corner when no one else was. Admittedly, a lot of those people I’ve pushed away, but I’ve tried pushing away Gabby, too.
She just refused to let me.
I’m damaged. I admit it freely. There’s something inside of me that just pushes and pushes. I don’t know how to stop it.
I never have.
“He’ll crash and burn one day,” I tell her, and I figure he will. Hopefully when he does, it won’t be because my father found out and killed him.
“Hey there.”
I look up to see this hot guy, staring down at Gabby and standing beside our table. He’s covered in tatts and wearing a plain white t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and jet-black hair with not exactly a beard, but definitely a day to two of stubble.
I could almost laugh. Gabby has that effect on guys. She always has. She got the best of both worlds. She somehow managed to get her mother’s blonde hair with her father’s dark coloring. She’s got her dad’s full lips and though my Aunt Beth is gorgeous, she doesn’t have Gabby’s curves. Gabby had to get all of those from her dad’s family and she works them.
The guy is sexy and definitely rocking a blue-collar vibe. He’s hot, I can admit that, but the guy standing behind him is the one that catches my eye. Maybe he does because he’s not staring at Gabby like she’s a juicy steak he wants to eat. No, he’s staring straight at me, his blue eyes boring into me. The other guy might be hot, but this guy? He is off the charts.
He’s got soft honey-brown hair that’s a little too long, but not so long that you can’t tell he gets it cut semi-regularly. Right now, the wind is blowing, and it floats around his face with the breeze. He has an army green Henley on that is long sleeved. His arms and hands are covered in tattoos. The ink disappear under his sleeves. He’s definitely hot and he’s trouble, especially with the way he keeps his gaze trained on me, smoldering intensity and all, makes me feel alive.
Which is bad.
The last guy to do that, was so bent on destroying my father, he nearly destroyed me. I’m done with guys in general.
“Hello?” Gabby says, and I hide my grin. She’s used to guys hitting on her and this one she’s apparently decided to play cool and indifferent with. It was probably a good call, because I can even see the surprise that flashes over the guys face.
“I saw you sitting over here, and I have to say you are a nine baby.”
“A nine?” she murmurs, as if she’s considering the number. “Just a nine? That’s disappointing. Maybe you’ll find someone better at a different table—or maybe even a different restaurant,” she tells him with a saccharine smile. I let out a snort, looking down at the table. When I look up tall, dark and broody is staring at me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“Why baby? I’m the one that you need to make a perfect ten.”
“Oh Lord Jesus help us from corny pickup lines,” I mutter.
“You don’t like my lines?” the man asks.
“They’re overdone.” The guy that’s been staring a hole through me grunts in what, oddly enough, I think might be humor and even though I know I shouldn’t, I turn my attention back to him. “What’s your name?” I ask him. It doesn’t truly surprise me for some reason when he doesn’t answer. “What’s your friend’s damage?” I ask the guy with him.
“Grunt,” he answers. “He’s the quiet shy type.”
“Yeah, right,” I mutter.
“You don’t believe me?” he asks with a smirk. He has a nice smile, but he’s clearly a player. Gabby needs to get back out there, but not with this guy.
“I try never to trust a man who tries to pick up a woman with cheesy lines,” I respond shrugging helplessly.
“I should at least get an A for effort,” he reasons.
“Don’t know if you know this or not stud, but I’m not sure a man should strive to get an A in effort.”
“You’d rather he not even try?” the guy asks. I look at Mr. Broody as I consider his question.
“I’d rather he gets an A in