Read Online Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Lucky by Cate Ellink - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cate Ellink
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sapphire eyes that quickly looked him over. She scanned his eyes, face, lips, neck, shoulders and chest, making heat spread across his skin. The look was quick but intense. And then, rather than smiling or meeting his gaze, she looked behind him. Dismissed him.
He took his elbow off the counter and stepped back.
Dismissed him? That rarely happened. He wasn’t stuck up, but he’d always had the attention of women. Just not Blue Eyes.
‘What can I get for you?’ The jerk of her chin in his direction was the only indication she was asking him the question. Her gaze roamed the room, quickly, expertly.
Her voice was a thick, warm drawl that had his cock paying attention. That voice promised nights of sinful dirty talk that could probably get him off without her touch. He smiled, thinking of late nights and wicked words.
Picking up barmaids had been his specialty … years back, when he picked up. Surely he still had it, even if he was a bit rusty. Sticking his hand out in a friendly gesture, he gave his best smile. ‘Dare Cornish. Just arrived in town. I have a room booked for tonight, but I’ll need to extend that.’
‘Right.’ She was clearly distracted by something over his left shoulder. Sapphire gaze hardening, her face pinched tight before her hand lurched toward his, gave a quick brush against his fingers and pulled away. ‘Be a minute.’ She was gone.
Crash and burn. Not just a bit rusty.
When he was young, rejection meant a shot at another chick. Now, in his early forties and divorced, rejection was a slap, a nail in his coffin, a step closer to eternal loneliness.
He shook his head. He hadn’t come here to find love, or lust. He’d come here to pull himself together. To work out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, his career. His marriage had disintegrated three years ago and he’d thrown himself into work, but he wanted something more. He wasn’t sure what that was … yet. A small-town community would be able to provide a sense of belonging, an opportunity to see if that was what he was missing. If not, he’d go opal mining and see if the hermit life suited him.
The sound of a rich rumble came from behind and he spun around. He should have turned as soon as the barmaid left him, not been distracted by his woes. She might need help.
‘If I ask you to leave my establishment, I’m not doing it for the good of my health. You’ve had enough. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back tonight.’ Blue Eyes had bellows for lungs, a heart bigger than Phar Lap, and a gaze that burned holes into the drunk before her. He was beaten and he knew it.
‘Lucky. I didn’t mean—’
‘You never fucking mean. Get the hell out before I throw you out.’ She held her ground, toe-to-toe with the bloke who’d be at least a foot taller and three times her weight. And he knew she had the better of him. How? She was a squirt. The drunken giant could pick her up and move her out of his way with just one arm.
Dare scanned the area to see what trouble the bloke had caused. Slumped on the floor in the corner was an older bloke, hat pulled down over his face, but still breathing. Dare moved towards him.
‘Stay where you are, Mr Cornish.’ The voice was like a whip. It cracked around him and stopped him mid-stride. He turned to stare at her, but she’d already moved to the slumped man. The drunk was on his way out, shuffling through the doors.
Blue Eyes slipped an arm beneath the slumped man’s shoulders and heaved him from the floor. Unsteady on his feet, he wasn’t much taller or heavier than she was, but he’d be an awkward load. She steadied him and then headed through the room towards the back of the pub. No one came to help. No one really stopped their drinking or their conversations. It was as if this happened regularly. Maybe it did.
He waited, but no one else came to serve. Glancing around, there were blokes with empty glasses, but none were lined up, impatient, as they would be
He took his elbow off the counter and stepped back.
Dismissed him? That rarely happened. He wasn’t stuck up, but he’d always had the attention of women. Just not Blue Eyes.
‘What can I get for you?’ The jerk of her chin in his direction was the only indication she was asking him the question. Her gaze roamed the room, quickly, expertly.
Her voice was a thick, warm drawl that had his cock paying attention. That voice promised nights of sinful dirty talk that could probably get him off without her touch. He smiled, thinking of late nights and wicked words.
Picking up barmaids had been his specialty … years back, when he picked up. Surely he still had it, even if he was a bit rusty. Sticking his hand out in a friendly gesture, he gave his best smile. ‘Dare Cornish. Just arrived in town. I have a room booked for tonight, but I’ll need to extend that.’
‘Right.’ She was clearly distracted by something over his left shoulder. Sapphire gaze hardening, her face pinched tight before her hand lurched toward his, gave a quick brush against his fingers and pulled away. ‘Be a minute.’ She was gone.
Crash and burn. Not just a bit rusty.
When he was young, rejection meant a shot at another chick. Now, in his early forties and divorced, rejection was a slap, a nail in his coffin, a step closer to eternal loneliness.
He shook his head. He hadn’t come here to find love, or lust. He’d come here to pull himself together. To work out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, his career. His marriage had disintegrated three years ago and he’d thrown himself into work, but he wanted something more. He wasn’t sure what that was … yet. A small-town community would be able to provide a sense of belonging, an opportunity to see if that was what he was missing. If not, he’d go opal mining and see if the hermit life suited him.
The sound of a rich rumble came from behind and he spun around. He should have turned as soon as the barmaid left him, not been distracted by his woes. She might need help.
‘If I ask you to leave my establishment, I’m not doing it for the good of my health. You’ve had enough. Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back tonight.’ Blue Eyes had bellows for lungs, a heart bigger than Phar Lap, and a gaze that burned holes into the drunk before her. He was beaten and he knew it.
‘Lucky. I didn’t mean—’
‘You never fucking mean. Get the hell out before I throw you out.’ She held her ground, toe-to-toe with the bloke who’d be at least a foot taller and three times her weight. And he knew she had the better of him. How? She was a squirt. The drunken giant could pick her up and move her out of his way with just one arm.
Dare scanned the area to see what trouble the bloke had caused. Slumped on the floor in the corner was an older bloke, hat pulled down over his face, but still breathing. Dare moved towards him.
‘Stay where you are, Mr Cornish.’ The voice was like a whip. It cracked around him and stopped him mid-stride. He turned to stare at her, but she’d already moved to the slumped man. The drunk was on his way out, shuffling through the doors.
Blue Eyes slipped an arm beneath the slumped man’s shoulders and heaved him from the floor. Unsteady on his feet, he wasn’t much taller or heavier than she was, but he’d be an awkward load. She steadied him and then headed through the room towards the back of the pub. No one came to help. No one really stopped their drinking or their conversations. It was as if this happened regularly. Maybe it did.
He waited, but no one else came to serve. Glancing around, there were blokes with empty glasses, but none were lined up, impatient, as they would be
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