Page 205 of Screwged for Christmas

She shook her head. “Not at all. Just have a bad taste in my mouth from a past boyfriend. Cowboy and doctor. The ego on him was suffocating.”

“Hmm,” Damon answered not really saying anything.

What was it about him that drew her into his orbit? She was genuinely puzzled and couldn’t understand why. The second their gazes locked her guard slipped a fraction.

“But in answer to your question, nah. Rowdy and Texas go hand in hand, too, like tequila, sandy beaches, and bad decisions,” she offered, and the grimace that crossed his face said he appreciated the analogy.

He moved away storing more bottles and the glassware she washed and dried. From the corner of her eye she appreciated all those sculpted muscles, the way he handled himself with relaxed confidence. Those strong hands never faltering as they wrapped around bottlenecks and fragile glass.

Strong yet gentle.

Would he be the same with her?

How could she want him so quickly after meeting him? Sure her sister talked about him nonstop so she felt like she knew him, but still. Was wanting her sister’s brother-in-law smart?

Pine filled her nostrils, and in her fantasy, Damon faded to a version of himself naked, lowering his hard body over hers on the top of the bar. In her mind the heat of his body warmed hers, the feel of his thighs pressing her apart and his shaft long and thick against her wet core drove her mad with lust.

She sighed heavily.

Horny. That’s all this was. She just needed to let loose a little and relax.

She turned on the ball of her foot and aimed for the back shelf to put the last of the glasses away when she lost her balance.

Everything hit fast-forward. Hands flew out and she pitched forward. Arms wrapped around her as she faceplanted into hard muscle.

“You okay?” His expression turned puzzled and a bit humored when she peered up into his face.

Hell no. She’d just face-planted and her nose was plastered between two mountains for pecs. “Sorry. This really isn’t me. I’m not usually so easily distracted. I can’t seem to focus and why the hell do I keep seeing images of you and me having, you know, sex?” She dipped her voice low and made sure no one else could hear. Not that anyone was in the joint, but still. Her sister had disappeared in the back and left her alone withhim.

“Direct. Your sister did say you were a little on point.”

“Character flaw I guess,” she countered. “What the hell is going on with me, Damon?”

He gave a soft shrug of his big shoulders. “Stress, whiskey, and hormones? But I’m no doctor. I do know you’ve been working way too much. Your sister likes to talk. A lot.”

She bet she did.

“You’ve done this before.” He signaled the change of topic sensing the unease in her she assumed as he pointed to the empty glasses and beer bottles.

Her mouth twitched. “Bartending? Yeah. That obvious? College isn’t free. Over half of med school students have tended bar or waitressed.” It took everything she had not to lean in the foot of space separating them and inhale a lungful of his scent. She was off in the head. Had to be. She hated the way he affected her. Purely masculine and so damn handsome it hurt to be near him and not reach out to caress the line of his jaw. Brush her hand with his.

Ivy shook her head as the blissful fantasies played in her mind. The second she closed her eyes and inhaled, the buzzing in her ears disappeared.

Damn man. What was she—an animal in heat? She couldn’t help herself, though. He drank in the sight of her from her black boots, tight jeans and the way her sweater hugged her breasts.

“When I’m off rotation I pick up odd hours at some local bars. The tips alone can amount to a nice sum.”

“No doubt. Double when you flash any guy that smile.”

“Triple when I fall for smooth pickup lines with grace and a cute giggle.”

He pushed up to his full height, easily a head and a half taller than herself, and everything that made her want to forget her no one-night stand rules filled her senses. He was a walking sex ad.

“That I believe, Ms. Kennedy. It’s a powerful smile.”

She should be finding a way to get her sister alone and tell her the truth about dropping out, but she couldn’t muster the mental strength it would take after her long day.

“You ready to go?” Zahara hadn’t disappeared, after all. She made her way toward them, her eyes red and puffy with sleep. “Holden and Riley went to pull the truck around. We’re going to head back to the house. Mrs. Savage has a room all set up for you. We can drop you off and then I can swing by in the morning if you’d like to go to the doctors with me.” Since Zahara’s cabin met its match with an arsonist several months back, the apartment her sister shared with her two husbands wouldn’t fit a guest.

---