Page 8 of Notorious

“How did she know your order?” I ask, which is a goofy question, because she must’ve brought him the same as what he had before. But it’s an excuse to talk to the cowboy. I’ve always liked cowboys.

“I’ve been sittin’ here drinkin’ a li’l while,” he slurs, his voice deep and guttural—and familiar. “And she’s plenty smart.”

Okay, that voice is really familiar, and I turn to face him and gasp. “Oh my god, you’re …”

I get the full effect of the smirk he’s famous for, though his blue-green eyes are bloodshot. “I’m who, precious?”

“Velvet,” I whisper. “The Cowboy.”

The guy whose confidence on screen lights me up.

Whose deep voice and sexy drawl encourage the men he’s fucking to give themselves over to him.

Whose intense eye contact makes me wish I were one of those guys—being wrapped up in his gaze like it’s a net when he murmurs “I got you” and “Come for me.”

Who kisses like he needs someone else’s lips to breathe.

This is that Velvet the Cowboy. In other words, the man of my dreams. My body’s lit up just from being this near to him.

Velvet nods, and he’s pretty loaded, because he seems to be having trouble focusing on my face. “You are correct.” He picks up his glass and clinks it against mine. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are you here by yourself?” I blurt.

“Well, yessir. I’ve heard tell you should never drink unless you’re alone or with someone.”

I snort. “Okay. I mean, I’m alone. Or, I guess I’m with you now.”

Shut up, brain. Shut up.

“That you are,” Velvet says. “Are you from the good town of Las Vegas?”

“No. I’m here for an event.”

Velvet nods, lips pressed together. “So am I.”

“I hope you were more successful at yours than I was at mine,” I mutter.

“Got a lifetime achievement award.”

“Well, then yes, you were.” I hold up my glass, and we clink again. “Congrats.”

He downs his shot and sets the glass on the bar. “Thanks,” he says in a flat tone. He stares down at his empty hands.

I want to hug him, but that doesn’t make sense. “What are your plans tonight?” I ask.

Velvet takes a really long time to answer my question. Did he not hear me? Before I try repeating myself, he lifts his head and gazes at me. “I s’pose right now, my only plan is to have a drink with you.”

“That sounds perfect,” I say, all warm inside—from the alcohol and from his words. My breath quickens, and something shifts near my heart.

“Yours? I mean, what are your plans?” he asks.

I snort. “Plans? None. I’m drowning my sorrows.”

“They swim,” Velvet says absently.

“Sorry?” It’s not that loud in here, but I didn’t understand what he said.

He gestures at his glass. “You can’t drown sorrows. They swim.”

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