Page 62 of Brutal Sin
Chapter Fourteen
Pamela waiteduntil Bryan disappeared into the bathroom before she slumped against the bar and released her pent-up nervousness in an audiblesigh.
This was hell. She wasn’t entirely sure which of the nine circles she currently resided in—either lust or greed—but it was hell nonetheless.
Not only did she have to continue the let’s-get-me-laid charade, she also had to pretend she wasn’t sliding headfirst into deeper feelings for a man who’d made it clear he was off limits. She’d even stooped to the low of bringing up her late husband in the hope the tragic topic would break the early descent into puppylove.
The diversion hadn’t worked in the slightest. The conversation had only achieved additional respect for a man who seemed to have more layers than puff pastry.
He’d listened to her. He’d comforted her with soft, simple words. And when the conversation became too emotional, he’d shut it down in typical Brute fashion, which made the depression instantaneously vanish.
Now, leaving wasn’t an option. Being alone in a car with him was too much of a temptation to her diluted sanity.
She wanted Bryan.
She wanted Brute.
She wanted whatever she could extract from the big grizzly bear of a man and didn’t care about the consequences.
“Hey, sugar.”
She glanced from her empty glass to find another flannelette-wearing cowboy at her side. He was broad, tall, and tanned, with an uber smirk toboot.
“You look like you need another drink.”
She gave a false smile. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
He inclined his head. “That you are, but I insist.” He knocked his knuckles on the bar. “Bartender, get this pretty lady a glass of bubbles.”
Bubbles?
“I, um…” That went against rule five-hundred and fifty-five in the Brute’s Fuck Buddy Guidebook—a potential lover should nail your drink order before he nailsyou.
A mini bottle of champagne cracked open before her, the contents poured into a slim flute. She should’ve declined with more enthusiasm. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve if numbing mindlessness wasn’t a mere drink away. Tomorrow, she’d pay for mixing drinks. For now, she’d take whatever relief she couldget.
“Here you go.” He lifted the glass from the bar and handed it over. “Something sweet for someone sweet.”
She cleared her throat. “If you came here looking for timid and cute, I’m not yourgirl.”
“You’re the naughty type?” He eyed her with lust-filled appreciation. “Tonight is my lucky night.”
A laugh escaped. She couldn’t help it. In a game of hot and cold, this guy was so far from getting lucky he’d need a snowsuit.
“I can’t believe a woman as fine as yourself would be out on herown.”
“She’s not.” Bryan came up behind her. “Take a hike, buddy.”
“Bryan.” She snapped her head around, scowling. “You don’t have to berude.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize this was the type of guy you were lookingfor.”
Was intoxication playing tricks on her, or did he seem unmistakably jealous? Her stomach flipped, and all the liquid she’d consumed went with it in a nauseatingroll.
“Hold on a minute.” The cowboy held up his hands. “She was sitting here on her own. I didn’t know you two were together.”
“We’re not,” they spoke in unison.
“Right.” The guy retreated a step. “I guess looks can be deceiving.”
