Page 5 of Wild Valentine
My head jerks up as a vision of loveliness walks in from the back entrance door. She pauses in the doorway and glances about the place with a slight frown on her face.
“Are you guys open for coffee?”
Her voice is as sweet as her countenance. A black skirt clings to her curvy hips, and a ruffled pale green blouse showcases the rise of her large breasts.
She’s short and curvy, but her heels give her an extra six inches. They’re shiny like she just stepped off a sidewalk in a city instead of wandering into our mountain bar and MC headquarters.
“We don’t open for another hour.” I’ve never seen Davis move so fast, but he’s over the side of the bar and practically salivating on the counter.
I give him a quick back off scowl.
“But I’m sure we can get you a coffee.”
Her eyes dart to mine, and it’s like an arrow hits my chest. I suck in my breath as the air rushes out of the room. She holds my gaze in a way that makes my entire body heat.
My heart thunders to a new beat, and one word rings clear in my head.
Mine.
“What would you like?”
Davis’s voice breaks the spell, and the angel who just walked into our HQ glances over to him. The loss of her eyes on me feels like a cold wind hitting me in the face.
“Double latte with soy milk.” She rattles off her order, and I detect a New York accent. My angel is far away from home, and I’m piqued with curiosity as to what the hell she’s doing here. There’s no car out front.
“How’d you get here?”
Her gaze shifts back to mine, and I notice the dark shadows under them. There’s a little frown creasing her forehead that I long to run my thumb over and smooth out.
“The back door was open,” she explains. “My rental car’s out back.”
She must have driven in the back entrance while I was talking to Badge.
“I thought you’d be open. It’s…” She checks her phone. “After ten.”
I chuckle at her confusion. She must be used to getting anything she likes 24-7
“This isn’t New York.”
Her frown deepens. “How do you know where I’m from?”
My gaze travels lazily up her body from the polished heels to the silk stockings, the tight skirt that restricts movement too much to be any use on a mountain, the carefully ironed blouse with the pretty but useless ruffles on the sleeves and the oversized purse that’s not a backpack, which is what most people carry on the mountain.
“Just a lucky guess.”
She smiles then, and my breath hitches. My New York angel is even more lovely when she smiles. Her blue eyes light up, and the dark smudges under them seem to fade away.
“Am I over-dressed for the mountain?” she teases.
“Just a little.”
Davis hands her a coffee, and she closes her eyes to inhale the scent. As she takes a deep breath she stretches her neck, exposing a pale throat that makes my pulse race. I long to run my tongue up the line of her neck to that sensitive bit the behind the ear.
Christ. What’s this woman doing to me? I’ve known her less than five minutes, and I’m already fantasizing about kissing her throat and ripping that ridiculous skirt off her. I’ve kept away from women for the last twelve years, and for good reason, but one look at this beauty and all reason goes out the window.
“What brings you to Wild Heart Mountain?”
Her eyes flutter open, and she purses her lips together to blow on the hot coffee.
