Page 3 of The Last True Hero
Adam's gaze lowered to her mouth; that dangerous mouth that liked telling him no. He wanted it to say yes. He wanted to capture the word on her lips and steal it deep inside. Mia's mouth parted... but the word never came.
Heat simmered in her cheeks and Mia turned away quickly, rubbing at her wrist. "I'm not the answer to your problems."
"I know." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back a little in his chair. "I'm not looking for an answer, but maybe I'm looking for a distraction. Maybe we both want the same thing."
"What's that?" Her eyes met his in the mirror.
"Something uncomplicated."
Those broad shoulders straightened and she tilted her head to the side, as if thinking. Her entire outfit was no-nonsense: tight denim jeans that showcased a fine ass, a white cotton tank, and only a pair of pretty jade earrings to hint at femininity, though she had that in spades. The tank clung to her rounded curves, and though he'd rarely seen her without her black hair knotted back or in a tight braid, little tendrils of it constantly escaped. The effect was immediate. And effortless. He'd be surprised if she even knew how often men's gazes lingered on her, though they rarely pushed for more than that. The sharp tongue had its own ball-tightening effect, but it scared off most of the locals, he'd noticed.
More fool them.
"Turn around," he said. "As much as I enjoy looking at your ass, I much prefer your pretty face."
Mia leveled a force-one glare upon him. "Sometimes, McClain, you just shouldn't open your mouth."
"My mouth does wonderful things, or so I've heard. Maybe you should teach me to put it to better use."
"I run my own bar. I'm a respected woman who can earn her own way, and I donotneed a man for anything. Even somethinguncomplicated. So don't go looking at me as a means to scratch that itch you've got. Why don't you go visit Jade?"
"Jade's never going to scratch this itch," he replied. "This itch has got a mean mouth, the prettiest pair of eyes north of the borderlands, and skin that just begs to be licked. Why else do you think I drink here? The service with a smile?"
"I thought it had something to do with the best whiskey this side of the Divide." Mia crossed her arms over her chest. "Christ, McClain. Is that what the women fall for up in the Wastelands?"
"How'd you know I come from the north?"
"I've got a gift for dialect. We get all sorts wander through here; bounty hunters, Nomads, sometimes even Confederate enforcers.”
"Hmm." He considered her. "One night. That's all I want." Then he could burn the yearning for her out of his system and move on.
"Why me?"
A tricky question. "You remind me of someone...."
"Oh, hell no." Mia bristled. "You want to switch off the lights, and pretend I'm—"
"No, I didn't mean it like that." With a scowl, he raked his hands through his hair. It was getting long, the ends of it faintly curling. He needed to razor it again. "You're the type of woman that catches my eye."
Mia leaned back against the bar, slightly mollified. "And what type of woman is that?"
"The strong-willed, determined, take-no-prisoners type," he growled. "The type that I can't have. Usually."
Mia considered it, chewing on her lower lip. Then she shook her head. "You're the type of man I stay far, far away from, McClain. I don't need to know your story to see the shadows in your eyes. You're trouble. You don't know what you want, nor do you know how to get there. You're a man without a map or a compass. A hero without a cause to fight for. And," she said, with the faintest smile, "you're far too pretty for your own good."
"I'm not a hero."
I'm the monster every Wastelander fears.
"Interesting." Mia poured them both another shot of whiskey. She nudged one toward him with a curious glint in her eyes. "You protest that, but you don't protest the part about you looking pretty."
This time, Adam was the one trying not to flush. She had a way about her that struck him straight to the gut. He lifted his glass of whiskey. "Here's to what could have been."
"Cheers," she said, lifting her own glass and bumping it against his. Her voice grew a little husky. "It's not just you, McClain. You're not the only one who's a little lost. I'd be bad for you and I know enough to know you'd be bad for me." She took a deep breath. "Here's to finding our way." She threw the whiskey back, her long, smooth throat working. He watched her for another long moment, fighting the urge to touch her, then threw his own back.
Both glasses hit the counter.
"You moving on soon?"
