“Shifters have to play.”
“What makes you think I’m a shifter?” She bristles only slightly, but I smile at her, delighted that she’s playing coy. This is going to be fun.
“I’m sorry love, but you don’t hide it well.”
“There’s nothing to hide,” she scoffs, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders. I think about what it would feel like to tug on that hair, to pull it while I’m sliding into her from behind. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking like this, but I just can’t seem to stop myself.
I sip the scotch again, and I just look at her. There’s something about this woman that draws me to her. She’s a very curious sort of creature. She seems kind and gentle. When her friend walked into the bar, all of her defenses just sort of faded away. With me, though, she’s on guard. Tense. Anxious.
With me, she doesn’t seem to be able to relax.
Why not?
“Well, shifter or not,” I wink at her. “What’s the best place to eat around here?”
“That’s easy. Bonnie’s.”
“Bonnie’s?”
“It’s a little deli,” she says, and her eyes light up when she talks about it. “It’s just around the corner from here.” She jerks her thumb in the direction of the restaurant. I think I remember seeing it earlier. “Tiny place, but the food is good.”
“I’ll have to check it out.”
“They only take cash,” she warns me. “I know how you city people can be.”
“Yes,” I say drily. “City people and their credit cards.” I roll my eyes dramatically, but then I laugh. “I’m not going to lie. Coming to a city that is still primarily cash-based is pretty damn strange.”
She shrugs. “It’s just how things work around here. Besides, you could hardly call it a city.”
“You aren’t wrong. You ever go anywhere else?” I ask her.
“Like where? Honeypot?”
“Strange your first suggestion was a shifter town,” I wink. “You know, for someone who isn’t a shifter.”
She bristles again and looks away.
The bell above the door jingles as the front door opens and a group of cowboys come in. The woman looks over at the door and then back at me.
“Let me know if you need another drink,” she says, and she hurries away. She starts taking drink orders immediately, and I’m amazed and impressed by how well she manages to maneuver around the tiny bar. She does a great job taking everyone’s orders, pouring drinks, and telling jokes in between orders.
I’m so busy staring at her that I don’t notice the other woman, the redhead, come over and sit next to me.
“She’s cute, isn’t she?”
“What? Oh,” I smile. “I suppose so.”
“I’m Foxy,” the woman holds out a hand.
“Robert,” I shake her hand with a smile. “And I do believe you’re the first person to willingly introduce themselves to me,” I tell her.
Foxy laughs. She throws her head back and smiles. Then she shakes her head. Her red curls bounce a little.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m not sure that I will,” I tell her honestly. It’s something that bothers me a little bit. In the city, there’s a certain level of politeness that people offer to strangers.
“People are on guard here,” she tells me. “From what I can tell, you probably understand why.” She raises her eyebrows.