The Bold and the Bullheaded by Willow Aster

Chapter Three

Spence 

When I walk into Mean Mug, I’m second-guessing this idea. For one thing, I don’t know anything about this girl, and for another, this pub is sacred to the brothers and me. Okay, sacred is a bit of a stretch. But I should’ve asked to meet somewhere else just in case she’s a stage-five clinger or has stalker tendencies. She did show up at my door after all, which isn’t looking too great for her at the moment.

But then she walks in and appears to be fairly normal from a distance. I meet her at the bar and she smiles shyly up at me.

“Thanks for meeting me,” she says.

“Sure. What will you have to drink?”

Before she can answer, I’m bumped into from behind and turn around to see the tight, round backside of Emma Kingsley. Don’t ask me how I know it’s hers. She’s bending over to pick up something she dropped and is apologizing profusely as she stands up.

Until she sees that she bumped into me.

“You,” she spits.

“Seems to be our standard greeting these days,” I say, eyes narrowing on hers. “Looking for any excuse to get close to me, I see.”

She leans forward and I smell something sweet. Strawberries? Vanilla? Heaven?

“You wish you could be so lucky,” she says.

I groan and then feel a hand on my elbow, reminding me that I’m meeting someone for a drink. What was her name? Sadie? No. That’s not right.

“I’m Sophie,” she says, and I look over to see her introducing herself to Emma. Right, Sophie.

Emma grins at her and then glances at me coldly. She manages to be warmth and ice and everything spice all at once. “Hello,” she says. “I’m Emma. Emma Kingsley.”

“How do you two know each other?” Sophie asks.

And when I glance at Emma, her blue-green eyes shifting to mine, pupils dilating as the color on her cheeks turn a nice shade of rosy pink, I could swear that she’s remembering that one time we—

“We have mutual friends,” Emma says, cutting my train of thought.

And for once, she leaves it at that. No cutting barbs, no nasty looks. She waves at Allen, the bartender who’s always here, and he starts to prepare her usual—a glass of Chardonnay—while Sadie gives James, the other bartender, her order.

When Emma glances at me again, I don’t see the usual fire in her eyes. She’s almost subdued and something feels wrong about that. It’s unsettling.

“Hey, are you—” I stop myself from asking if she’s okay because, what the hell? We don’t have that kind of relationship, and I certainly don’t need to spiral down the dark Emma train while I’m getting a drink with Sadie.

“Have fun, you two. Nice to meet you, Sophie,” she says, lifting her wine glass to us before walking away.

Shit. Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.

I watch as Emma goes to sit down at the end of the bar next to one of the regulars, until Sophie clears her throat next to me.

“Are you guys a thing?” she asks.

“What? Me and Emma?” I snort. “No, not even close.”

She smiles and leans in. “Good.” Her tone is flirty, making it clear in no uncertain terms that she’s interested.

I smile back, thinking maybe it’s time I end this dry spell.

“So, tell me about yourself,” I say, before taking a long pull from my beer mug.

Unfortunately, the way we’re sitting allows me the perfect line of sight to Emma. Her shoulders are stiff, and my gaze travels down her long, exquisite neck as I study her profile. It’s not often that I’m in her presence and granted a moment to take her in. She’s usually hissing at me and I’m on the defense. Her skin is smooth and creamy, and my hands fist at my sides at the thought of touching her. Her beauty is intoxicating. The woman is clearly built to drive men wild with her hourglass figure and…

“Hello. Earth to Spence. Did you hear me?” Sadie asks.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I thought I saw someone I knew. What were you saying?”

Focus, asshole. 

“I was telling you that I’m a nanny by day, and I work at a sex club at night,” she says with a shrug, as if she’s discussing the weather.

I spew beer across the bar and cough to keep from choking. She laughs as she pats my back.

“Sorry. Just went down the wrong pipe.” I reach for a napkin and wipe my mouth.

She shakes her head, bites down on her bottom lip, and bats her lashes. I don’t miss the way she squeezes her tits between her arms, allowing them to practically spill out of her low-cut top and land on the table as her gaze locks with mine. The woman is a pro at the game of seduction, and clearly she knows exactly what she’s doing. Playing the shy, sweet card and then unleashing her inner vixen.

Game on, girl.

I’m rarely flustered by the opposite sex. But having Emma sitting just a few feet away while having this awkward conversation with a woman I’m fairly certain is determined to find her way into my bed—it’s got me all sorts of uncomfortable. And not in the best way.

“People are always surprised to hear that I take care of twin girls as my day job and work at The Black Hole at night. I guess you could say I’d be the perfect girl to marry. I can French braid hair, make a killer omelet, and then tie you up and whip your ass at night.” She pauses to lick her lips dramatically and then her hand flies up in front of my face. “You may just want to put a ring on it, Mister.”

What the actual fuck is happening?

This may just be the most interesting date I’ve ever been on, and I’ve had my fair share of bizarre, so that’s saying a lot.

I take another pull from my beer. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I keep waiting for her to say she’s joking, but she just keeps staring at me with those come-fuck-me eyes.

I glance up to see a guy standing in front of Emma, as she shakes her head, obviously letting him know she isn’t interested. I notice the way she squares her shoulders and her jaw clenches. He places a hand on her arm and I’m on my feet before I can stop myself.

“Take a fucking walk, asshole.” I grip his shoulder hard. The man is much shorter than me, and I’ve easily got fifty pounds on him.

Emma slaps the guy’s hand from her arm. “I’ve got this, Spence.”

It’s the first time she’s ever called me by name and her gaze softens when she looks at me. Seeing the she-devil retract her claws always does something to me. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I feel like I’m king of the world. Like I’ve earned something I’ve been working for my entire life. Which makes no sense, because I can’t stand the woman.

“Easy, tiger. I didn’t know she was taken,” the drunkard slurs, and James comes around the bar and nods at me, before escorting him off.

“You okay?” I ask.

“This is not my first rodeo, and I can take care of myself.” Her mask slips back into place. The woman gives me whiplash, she’s so hot and cold.

“Didn’t look like it from where I was sitting,” I say. Her leg brushes against my thigh and my dick is instantly hard.

Not from the woman who basically just offered to tie me up and make me her bitch, but from the woman currently shooting daggers in my direction.

I might have a sickness.

I’m attracted to a woman I loathe.

“From where you’re sitting?” she hisses. “Yeah, I’ve seen that girl around.” And the claws are back out. “Good luck to you with that one. I think she’s offering a little something to James right now in exchange for a free round.” She opens her mouth just a little and uses her fist to make the universal sign for a blow job.

My dick throbs against my zipper.

“You jealous, Kingsley?” I move closer, invading her space. I look over my shoulder and see my date leaning over the bar flirting with James, so I’m going to enjoy this moment.

Emma’s breathing is erratic, but she leans forward. Her mouth is so close to mine it wouldn’t take much to sneak just a taste.

“I’d have to care to be jealous.” She forces a fake smile before moving to her feet and sliding around me. “Be careful, Old Solemn. That one looks like she wants to sink her teeth into you and take a large bite.” She pats my chest and I grab her hand to hold her there.

“Don’t you worry about me and Sadie.” I raise a brow in challenge.

She yanks her hand away and glares at me. “It’s Sophie, genius, and I couldn’t care less. I’m going home.”

I watch the way her hips sway as she saunters away, and her peach-shaped ass captures the attention of every guy in the room. I growl, because everything about her aggravates me.

I look up to see my date smiling and she uses her finger to beckon me over. I’ve suddenly got a massive headache and I want to get the hell out of here.

“Hey, big guy.” She leans forward and grips my junk. If this night isn’t a reminder as to why I have lost my taste for this shit, nothing is. I’m not a horny teenager, despite what just happened, and I don’t like being treated like one. If I want a woman, she’ll know it.

But Sadie or Sophie or whatever the hell her name is, doesn’t do it for me. I wrap my hand around her slim wrist and tug it away.

“Let’s call this done, all right?” I pull out some cash and drop it on the bar.

“Oh, so we’re moving right to the fun?” She grins and then licks her lips in a way she thinks is sexy. I think I might be wrinkling my nose up and backing away while I’m watching her, but she doesn’t seem to be picking up what I’m throwing down. Reading social cues is not her thing, as the woman appears to have the social skills of a rottweiler puppy.

“I like the way you think,” she says. “I was just talking to James, and he’s down to take this party upstairs. They have an office, and I thought you might be down for a party of three?”

I laugh, because this night just keeps getting crazier.

“Listen, I’m not a man who shares. I have no need to. The women I take to my bed are more than satisfied. So no, I’m not interested in a party of three,” I say, and she shakes her head as if that isn’t the only offer on the table. “Nor am I interested in a party of two … with you.”

She pouts. “But I want to get on the list for the condo.”

Is this woman for real?

“You’re already on the list. Jesus. You don’t have to sleep with me to get on the damn list. Is that what this is about?”

“No.” She shakes her head fervently. “I mean, I saw you last week when Tara showed me the building. You were walking in and she pointed you out, and I was salivating at the sight of you.”

I rub a hand down the back of my neck, feeling the need to get out of here quickly.

“Listen. No hard feelings. I wish you the best, and I’ll call you when we have an opening, all right?”

“Yeah, sure. Call me if you want to get a drink next week,” she says.

The girl is on send as my sister Pen likes to say. She doesn’t take anything in, she just keeps talking.

“I’ll call you when we have an opening in the building. We won’t be getting drinks again. Take care.” I knock on the bar before walking away.

The cool air engulfs me, and I suck in a long breath. Happy to be out of there.

That was by far the worst date I’ve had in a long time, and the highlight was a run-in with a certain vixen who hates me.

So much for ending my dry spell.