Page 80 of Small Town Firsts
Ronan’s head was tipped back, his mouth slack. Either still asleep, or probably still drunk.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I yelled.
Beckett stood beside me, his hands in his back pockets as he snickered.
“You are not helping.”
“What?”
Because I knew the Manning boys were almost as bad as these two idiots when it came to a night of drinking, it only made me more angry. I stalked over to Ronan and kicked his boot. I was glad I wore my platform paisley pumps instead of the strappy sandals I was going to wear today. “Wake up.”
Nothing.
“Ronan Parrish, wake up.”
A soft snicker came from the stranger. “You’re in trouble now, brah. All she needs is your middle name and she’d sound like your Ma.” He slowly straightened and stretched his beefy arms out then cracked his back and shook his head like a lion.
Since Ronan still wasn’t moving the stranger gave him a good kick with his much larger motorcycle boots.
Ronan’s head snapped forward. His dark eyes were bloodshot and glassy. He frowned and squinted then caught sight of me. His frown softened into a sleepy smile. He hooked his foot around my knee and dumped me on his lap. “Hi, Sunshine.”
“Sunshine?” Beckett said from behind me.
I tried to push up, but the angle of the Adirondack chair wouldn’t let me go easily.
Ronan slid his arm around my waist and shoved his face into my neck. “You smell pretty.”
“Let me go, you ass.” Embarrassment blazed through me and I tried to get free.
“Who’s the hottie, man?”
Ronan peeked around me. “Back off.”
Beckett curled his arm around my waist and lifted me off Ronan. “Anyone care to tell me what the hell’s going on in here?”
Ronan’s hands gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles white. His dark eyes went shark flat as Beckett put me down but kept his hand at my hip as he shoved me behind him.
“Evidently I am not up to speed with what’s been going on at all.”
I shoved Beckett to my other side and angled toward the stranger. “I stand by the first question. Who the hell are you?”
The dark haired lion of a man gave me a sleepy smile. His green eyes were lazy and full of indulgent charm as his gaze drifted down my body. He was broad and deeply tanned with a series of tribal tattoos that skated down his neck and forearm in a repeating arrow pattern. He wore board shorts that belonged at the beach and massive, unbuckled motorcycle boots—and that was it.
I crossed my arms and stared him down. The lazy charm slid into amusement as he arched his brow at me. A scar bisected the jet colored left brow. “I see whyBoahas a thing for you.” He glanced at Ronan. “Sunshine, that part I don’t quite see.”
Ronan said nothing, just gritted his teeth.
“I’m Kira. I’ll ask you again, who are you?”
And who the hell was Boa?
Embarrassment and anger were running neck and neck right now. I hadn’t even told Beckett about Ronan. We weren’t exactly bosom buddies when it came to hookups. And hell, me and Ronan were supposed to be opening the taproom, not my damn legs.
The lion tipped his head back with a laugh before hauling himself out of his chair. “You two are definitely well matched.”
“Jesus,” Beckett muttered as both of us tipped our chins up to take him in.
He looked broad in the chair, but when standing, the guy was a damn giant. He held his hand out to me. “Kainoa N’ai.Boa’smy brother. Most people call me Kain.”
