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Winner of Day 6 is Jordan Howay!!!
Libby Jones flipped the whiskey bottle in the air and caught it without spilling a drop, then poured a round of shots for the two men who’d pulled up a stool at the bar. She filled two mugs with beer from the tap and slapped them on the counter. “Anything else I can do for you boys?”
“How’s about a lap dance, beautiful?” one suggested, grinning. His smile displayed two missing front teeth.
The man beside him elbowed him in the gut. “What would yer wife say, Harmon?”
Harmon shrugged. “She’d probably tell me to take out the trash.”
“Yeah, meaning you. Then she’d knock the rest of those teeth out of that stupid head of yers.”
“Shut up, Reggie.” Harmon frowned. “Got those teeth knocked out ridin’ a bull on the circuit.”
“That bull bein’ the husband of that ugly redhead in Amarillo.” Reggie slapped a hand on Harmon’s back and roared with laughter. “Wasn’t worth it, was it?”
Libby sighed. The same old drunks with the same stories always managed to end up at her barstools. Where were all the good-looking cowboys tonight? She glanced across the crowded saloon. That’s where they were. On the dance floor, while she was serving drinks behind the bar.
The Gray Wolf twins, Mark and Luke, spun around for the umpteenth time, laughing and smiling, making every girl in the place drool.
Even me. Libby sighed again. Back in her other life, she’d be the one dancing and someone else would be serving her drinks. But then, she’d hated her other life. No. Libby was better off tending bar and keeping to herself than playing the pampered princess in a city full of people. At least in Temptation, Texas, she could get away from the noise and crowds when she wanted.
Audrey Anderson, the owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, laid a hand on Libby’s shoulder. “’Bout ready for your break?”
“Past ready.” Libby pulled the towel off her shoulder and tossed it on the bar. “I’ll be out back.”
“The cowboys ’round here can get pretty rowdy,” Audrey warned. “You sure you’ll be all right?”
“Better than being inside all night.” Libby burst through the back door of the saloon into the night, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air that didn’t reek of alcohol and sweaty men.
Eight months she’d been working at the Ugly Stick Saloon. Longer than anywhere else she’d stayed over the past couple years. Eight months she’d been watching others having fun and partying, flirting with the handsome cowboys, two of whom had definitely caught her eye since she’d started working at the saloon.
Libby’s shoulders tensed. She was better off forgetting about flirting with the Gray Wolf men. A low profile had been her goal for the past two years and the only thing that kept her out of trouble.
Still, she had yearnings…needs…a hunger for something more.
Perhaps it was time to move on.
The door behind her opened and closed, footsteps crunching in the gravel toward her.
She walked faster, craving the quiet time alone. Before she’d gone two yards, the footsteps caught up with her and hands slid down her shoulders.
“Hey, beautiful. Need a ride home?” A big, smelly man with bad breath and shaggy hair spun her around.
“No. I don’t need a ride.” She tried to shake his hands off, but they were like meaty vise grips, clamped down hard enough to leave bruises.
A spike of adrenaline zipped through her bloodstream as the heat of anger built. She hated being held against her will. For the past two years, she’d lived free of constraint of any kind. She’d be damned if any man would hold her back again. “Let go of me before I hurt you.”
The man guffawed, spewing clouds of alcohol vapor in her face. “A little thang like you? Hurt me?”
She raised her knee in a quick jerk, connecting with the drunk’s private parts.
The foul-mouthed man let go of her arms and grabbed his crotch, swearing in a high-pitched whine. “Damn, girl, I’ll get ya for that.”
“Yeah, right. Go home to your wife and sleep it off.” She backed away and walked on, dogged by the sound of multiple footsteps in the gravel now following her. When she reached a row of cars, she stopped and wheeled around to face the new threat. “What do you want?”
The two men who looked remarkably alike and dressed identically in crisp white button-down dress shirts and neatly pressed jeans, stood in front of her, hands raised in surrender and grinning. Libby’s heartbeat ratcheted up a notch as she stared at the Gray Wolf twins. The men she’d been drooling over not five minutes earlier.
“Audrey sent us out here to keep an eye on her favorite bartender,” one of them said.
The other’s eyes twinkled. “Seems like you can take care of yourself pretty well on your own. Ol’ Pleaze won’t try messing with you again.”
If Libby had been wondering where all the good-looking cowboys had gone, she’d found the two most qualified. “Jackpot,” she said beneath her breath.
The Gray Wolf brothers had to be the best-looking cowboys in the area, especially the twins. Their dark-skin, long, pitch-black hair and brown-black eyes spoke to their Kiowa Indian roots and had every girl this side of the Brazos River panting.
Libby had to admit, she’d panted a time or two over them from behind the bar. More and more lately. They’d made an effort to stop by and talk to her whenever she had a free moment, not that she encouraged them. It was nice on the ego to know she still had it, and appealed to a couple of damned good-looking men. Not that she could take advantage of it and flirt back.
Relationships weren’t in the cards for her. The twins had impeccable reputations as gentlemen and cowboys. Where women were concerned, the Gray Wolfs made fine catches.
She’d come outside for freedom from noise and people, not to start up a conversation with the cowboys. “I don’t need a babysitter, but thanks anyway.”
She turned and walked farther away from the building, until the thump, thump, thump of the music blaring inside the corrugated tin walls subsided some.
The crunch of boots on the gravel indicated her tail hadn’t taken the hint.
“Shh!” She faced the men and pressed a finger to her lips. “Hear that?”
Both men shook their heads, the similarity between the twins so remarkable, Libby had never been able to tell them apart by looks, only by personality.
Mark, the fun-loving, more outgoing one of the pair grinned. “I don’t hear a thing.”
Luke shook his head. “That’s her point, brother. She came out for quiet, not to hear us flapping our jaws. Come on.” Luke grabbed his brother’s arm. “Leave Libby alone.”
“No, I’m here to watch out for the pretty lady,” Mark insisted. “I don’t shirk my responsibility.”
“You heard her. She can take care of herself.” Luke snorted. “You just wanna flirt.”
“Damn right.” Mark grabbed Libby’s hand, swung her out and back in with his best dance move. When he had her in the crook of his arm, he whispered, “I’ve been trying to get inside her panties since she started here at the Ugly Stick.”
Libby’s pussy clenched at the thought of Mark in her panties, but she pushed the image aside and twirled out, putting distance between her and Mark. “You and every other horndog in this joint.”
“Smooth, dickhead. I’m sure she goes for those kinds of come-ons.” Luke reached out and captured Libby’s hand. “Excuse my coarse brother, he never learned manners.”
Libby laughed. Mark and Luke always had a way of lightening her dark thoughts. “You two are too much. How come you haven’t found girlfriends?”
Mark grinned. “We’ve been waiting for you, darlin’.” He took her hand again and brought it to his lips.
Luke squeezed the fingers on her other hand gently, his gaze capturing hers, dark and intense. “We were meant for the forever kind of love, not just flirting.”
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