It would explain the flying high heels.
“No one is going to tell me that I can’t have another woman throw a high heel at my face so it hits my eye if that’s what I want, cowboy.”
He just stared down at her for a long moment. Was she cuckoo or drunk? Or both?
“Except . . . when I say that out loud it sounds nuts. Maybe I am going insane. It’s this place. I need to leave.”
“You don’t have any shoes on.” He glanced at Amy who was still staring at the high heels. She gave him a guilty look when she saw him looking at her.
The short woman next to him waved a hand through the air. “Won’t be the first time I’ve gone home from a bar without shoes. Sweetheart, you keep them.”
“I really shouldn’t,” Amy said. “These have got to be worth eight hundred dollars.”
He grimaced. That much for shoes? Holy hell. He took another look at the woman leaning against him. Her dress was hideous. It was dark brown and seemed to cling to her in all the wrong spots. Not that she wasn’t beautiful, but she didn’t seem to have much dress sense.
“Probably more, knowing my mother. She bought them for me. Insisted I wear them even though she knows I can’t walk in high heels. Please, take them. I never want to see them again.”
“Won’t she be mad at you?” Amy asked, looking worried.
The woman laughed. It sounded flat and wrong. “My mother never gets mad. Disappointed, yes. Mad, no. Don’t worry, I’ll tell her I lost them. Happens a lot.” She clumsily attempted to climb onto the bar stool next to him. Without thought, he reached out and lifted her onto the seat.
She leaned back so far to stare up at him that he thought she was about to fall off. He quickly grabbed hold of her arms.
“Ooh, you’re strong. And fast. I’ve never had someone lift me up like that. It was sexy.”
“Sexy, huh?” he asked, letting her go.
“If you were words on the page you’d be fine print.” She let out a big sigh and swung around on the stool to face the bar.
He blinked.
Had she just said that?
He eyed her. He’d just been thinking that life was slightly dull and along she came . . . that was some weird coincidence.
“Let me buy you another beer,” she said. “Since I spilled yours trying to walk on those stupid high heels.”
“You sure you want to give those away?” he asked, noticing Amy had high-tailed it out of there. “That’s a lot of money.”
“I know. That makes it even better.”
What?
He frowned. He wasn’t sure he liked her attitude toward money. Was she always this frivolous? On the one hand, it had been a kind thing to do for Amy. On the other hand, she’d thrown around a pair of shoes that cost more than most people spent on shoes in a year. Then she’d given them to a stranger.
“Hey, bartender, can we get two of whatever he’s drinking.” She leaned over the bar, her dress riding up her ass as she called out to Ronny, the bartender.
Christ. He shouldn’t look.
But he did. He was only human after all.
She was wearing a pair of purple cotton panties and the bottom of her butt cheeks were peeking out.
Holy. Crap.
That was one fine ass.
Yep, he was an ass man.
And this girl had the perfect ass for cupping, squeezing, or spanking. He could just see it growing red under his hand, her feet kicking back and forth as she cursed him. He was a man who liked being in charge in the bedroom.
Maybe even out of it. Other than Nicole, he’d never really dated a girl long enough to explore that side of himself. And when he’d been with her, he’d been too young to fully understand his needs. But he was extremely protective of women and he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to keep his woman safe.
And any woman from Haven knew the deal. If they didn’t follow the rules their guardian set down to keep them safe, they could be punished.
But they weren’t in Haven right now. They were in Freestown. And he shouldn’t be staring at her ass like it was a juicy apple and he was Snow White.
A long whistle of appreciation had him turning. He spotted a couple of guys staring at her ass the same way he had.
Anger flooded him.
Mine.
Urgh, not yours, idiot.
But he still reached to tug at her dress, pulling it as far down over her ass as he could manage.
“Hey, what are you doing?” She sat back on the stool, turning to look at him suspiciously. “Were you copping a feel?”
“You were showing off half your ass to the bar, I was trying to cover you up.” He didn’t mean to say it so harshly, but he didn’t like other people staring at her.