Read Online A Dark & Stormy Knight: A McKnight Romance (McKnight Romances) by Suzie Quint - Free Book Online Page A

was
talking about revenge or sex.
    His eyes came back to her and focused in.
“I just need a partner to help me out.”
    Revenge, she decided. But he probably
wouldn’t turn down sex. He was still a guy, after all.
    She was almost willing to help him out
with the former, but the latter was out of the question.
    Maybe he should run a personals ad, she
thought as she sipped on her drink.
    ###
    Sol parked beside Georgia’s tin can. What was she doing at The Lariat?
    She might be a native of Hero Creek, but
she hadn’t lived there for a long time. The regulars might well see her as
fresh meat. She’d be a lone gazelle on a plain full of lions.
    He spotted her as soon as he walked in.
Sitting right at the bar as though she was looking to get picked up by some
local yokel. He’d fix that.
    His cock stiffened as though volunteering
for the job. Down, Obie.
    As he came up behind her, he saw she had
some creamy, chick drink on ice in front of her. He propped one cowboy boot on
the bar’s brass foot rail, braced a forearm on the bar, and leaned on it.
Without greeting her, he picked up her glass between forefinger and thumb and
took a sip. “Whoa!” He ran his tongue across his lips, sucking a stray drop
from the fine hairs of his mustache. “Tasty way to drink whiskey.” Not quite
the chick drink he’d expected.
    She didn’t look surprised to see him. “That’s
not whiskey. It’s Baileys Irish Cream.”
    “Honey, I know whiskey when I taste it.”
How could she not know she’d been drinking whiskey? “You put it in a milkshake,
it’s still whiskey.” Sol studied her, evaluating. Georgia had never been a big
drinker. She didn’t look drunk now except for the sheen in her eyes, as if they
weren’t focusing quite as well as they should. “How many of these have you had?”
    “A few.”
    His erection got stiffer. Opportunistic
Bastard. If he let her drink a few more, she’d be easy to get into bed. “Okay,
it’s not whiskey,” he said, happy to humor her. “Let me buy you another.”
    “It’s not whiskey. It’s a liqueur.”
    “I ain’t arguing with you.” He gestured
to the bartender. “Tommy, get the lady another. On me. And get me a barley pop.”
    Tommy brought a Lone Star with Georgia’s Baileys. “When did you start drinking those?” Sol asked as he watched her take a
sip.
    “About a year. A guy I dated introduced
me to it.”
    A guy she dated? Fuck. “Pretty
pansy drink for a guy.”
    Georgia ’s
eyes narrowed. “You think so?”
    Sol took a swallow of his beer. “Yeah, I
think so.”
    Her foot slipped as she tried to stand on
the brass foot rail, but she got it repositioned and leaned over the bar. “Tommy!
C’mere.”
    Tommy responded quickly, and Sol wondered
if Tommy had been trying to make time with her before he’d walked in.
    “I want two shot glasses, Tommy. Half
Baileys, half Jameson’s Irish Whiskey.”
    Sol’s eyebrow twitched as Tommy turned to
make the drinks. “Shooters?”
    She looked disdainfully at him. “Of
course. You don’t sip out of a shot glass.”
    “This concoction got a name?”
    “A shillelagh.”
    When Tommy put the shot glasses in front
of them, Georgia threw hers down in one quick motion. Sol felt a smile trying
to pull at his lips as he calculated how many it would take to get her loose
enough to go home with him.
    She looked up at him. Her beautiful baby blues
sloe-eyed. Still glazy. “Come on, tough guy. You’re not afraid of little pansy
drink, are you?”
    “Nothing in a shot glass is a pansy
drink,” Sol said, and he picked his up and threw it back. He licked his lips
then rolled his lower lip up over the edge of his mustache as he peered into
the empty glass. The sweet of the Bailey’s on the flat of his tongue and the
whiskey burn on the edges made an interesting combination.
    “Not bad.” He pushed his cowboy hat back
on his head. “Tommy, set up a couple more.”
    When the drinks were in front of them, Georgia reached for her