Rowdy. Jay Crownover
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“No. He needs to get there on his own. I’ve been letting him tiptoe around me for weeks and I’ve given him plenty of time to adjust to the idea that I’m back in his life and that I’m not going to go away. He’s obviously not ready for me yet.”
She laughed a little and we made our way back into the shop. The waiting room had gotten busy in the fifteen minutes I was upstairs, so it was going to take a second to get everyone situated and straightened out. She leaned over and whispered so only I could hear, “Just so you know, I would pay a small fortune to see him in those tight football pants he used to wear when he was younger. I Googled him once and saw a picture from when he played for Alabama.”
She waved her hand dramatically in front of her face and gave me a little wave on her way out the front door. I had to laugh and just happened to look over my shoulder to catch Rowdy staring at me.
For once, the angry gloss was gone from his eyes as he watched me unblinkingly. I saw it clear as day in that split second. The reason there was so much division and dissonance between us. The reason he couldn’t handle me being back in his life suddenly was mapped out in that sea of blue on blue. When Rowdy looked at me all he could see was the past and what he had suffered through then, the loss he had felt at my hands and the heartache he had been gifted by my sister. But for me, when I looked at him all I could see was the future and every promise and possibility that was wrapped up in the sexy, blond, and tattooed package that was grown-up Rowdy St. James. Some way, somehow, we had to start looking at the same thing if I was ever going to have a shot at showing him there was life after the one and life after loss, especially if the one was the wrong person for him all along and the loss was right in front of him wanting to make amends.
I was never the kind of guy to turn my back on a good time. It was rare anymore that the entire group of friends I had immersed myself in and now called my family were all able to get together at the same time on the same day. So when Jet called me on his last night in town before he flew out to listen to some band play in Portland and demanded that I show up at the Bar because everyone was going to be there, I couldn’t think of a reasonable or noncowardly excuse not to go.
It was getting harder and harder to avoid Salem without making it absolutely noticeable and now that Cora had witnessed my epic overreaction when Salem had been on the verge of mentioning her sister . . . well, there was just no escaping the endless questions and speculative looks coming from those two-tone eyes. I loved Cora something fierce, but I didn’t have any desire for her to start sticking her fingers into old wounds. Those suckers had long since scabbed over, and even if the scar tissue they left behind was ugly and gnarled, it was way better than the festering hurt and leaking heartache the actual memories had tied to them.
In an effort to prove not only to the girls but also to myself that I could play nice and that just seeing Salem in all her pretty, bronze beauty wasn’t going to drag me back to places I never wanted to go, I put my best FTW attitude on and went to the Bar. I figured I could do this for one night. I could fake my way through pretending like the very sight of her didn’t undo me from the inside. I just had to remind myself she was simply a stranger that I no longer knew. She was just a random and lovely Latin goddess covered in some of the prettiest, most detailed ink I had ever seen. I was a pro with the ladies and Salem was most assuredly all lady. I could be charming and slick. I could be engaging and friendly, and hopefully that would put her at ease and I would feel a little less like she was here in Denver to bring every terrible memory that haunted me to my front door.
I thought it was a rock-solid plan. I thought I was going to pull it all off with no trouble, but then I hit the entrance. The first thing my eyes landed on wasn’t Ayden trying to get Jet to two-step with her to “Family Tradition,” or Rule and Shaw whispering with heads bent close together, or Rome tugging his little pixie around the side of the bar to where I knew his office was back behind all the liquor storage, or Nash and his pretty Saint pretending to play a game of pool while they really just made out next to the felt-covered table. No, the first thing my traitorous gaze clapped on to was Salem’s unmistakable curves where they were propped up so enticingly when she leaned over the bar as Asa beckoned her closer.
Of course the first thing that slammed into my brain was the way her black-and-white skirt hugged her backside and hips as she leaned over on those crazy tall heels she liked to wear. Right on the tail end of that thought was the notion that Asa was probably getting one hell of a show if she had a low-cut top on, and for some reason that made my head feel like it was going to fucking implode. My back teeth clenched together and I literally saw a hot red haze when she tossed back her head and laughed at something the blond southerner said. Her dark hair swished across the curve of her ass and her husky laugh made something in my gut and below my belt get tight. Before I could think about what I was doing, I found myself walking toward the bar with hasty steps.
I saw Asa notice my approach and he grinned at me knowingly as he purposely moved away to help another customer. I had to give it to the guy, he had killer taste in women. More often than not, now that he and I were the only unattached members of our little unit, we found ourselves good-naturedly fighting over the same girl at the end of the night. It was never anything serious and more than once it had turned into a sort of game to see which one of us could get the girl first. Considering both of us were blond and had our fair share of charisma, it was always a crapshoot to see who would win. He had the southern drawl working in his favor, but I had the fact that I was rocking plenty of ink and a retro-cool vibe a lot of ladies couldn’t seem to resist. I posted up next to Salem and took the Coors Light Asa set in front of me without having to ask for it. I narrowed my eyes at him a little and saw his grin go from friendly to speculative.
“What’s up, Rowdy?”
He always sounded like he had just stepped off of a farm in Kentucky. Ayden’s accent was hardly noticeable unless she was mad or excited, but Asa used his twang like a weapon against all unsuspecting women. I felt Salem turn from where she was leaning to look at me, but I ignored her and focused on Asa.
“Not much.”
“You haven’t been around much lately.” Now that all my friends were either married, practically married, or involved with their one true love, I tended to spend my free time hanging out here and shooting the shit with him. He would definitely have noticed that I had been cowering under a rock covered in my own fear and uncertainty for the last month or so. I went to make a smartass remark about him enjoying not having the competition around, when I heard Salem snort.
I’d avoided being too close to her because she made me uneasy and I was just so physically aware of her. When I grabbed her the other day I had been driven by panic and fear, not out of a sudden need to touch her. However, being this close, seeing the midnight-sky color of those eyes and the way her mouth was always painted in a perfect, sexy pout, had blood rushing to parts of my body I didn’t want to be happy to see her. The way that ruby sitting at the corner of her mouth winked at me like it wanted me to bend down and lick it had me so that I suddenly couldn’t remember why I didn’t want to be close to her, why I adamantly didn’t want her back in my life. Looking at her jet-black eyes and the way her raven-dark brows danced up as I stared at her made me want to get as close as I could.
“I’ve been busy.” I answered Asa’s question offhandedly while I continued to stare at this stranger that I had once known better than I knew myself.
“Busy with what?”
I jerked my head around and noticed he had a shit-eating grin on his face. The fact that I was dumbstruck by this woman was obviously apparent and he had no qualms about torturing me with that knowledge.
I picked up the beer to have something to do with my hands and tilted my head to one side as Salem and I continued to watch each other. I was looking at her like she was going to attack at any second, like she was going to pounce and pull away all the good stuff I surrounded myself