I shrug. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About Holly and Jackson,” Max prods before taking a bite.

My eyes flick to his, but I don’t answer. I don’t need him knowing my business.

Max takes a drink of water and then sets his glass down. “I never did like the guy.”

“Why?” I ask and then take another bite before glancing over at Bill, who is still asleep in the recliner. “I thought you all were friends or something.”

“Or something…” Max says. “Jackson Cruze is a narrow-minded homophobe who talks with his fists.”

“You two have gotten into it before?”

Max nods. “Oh, yeah, many times.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And Holly stayed with him. I thought girl-code was if the boyfriend and the best friend didn’t get along, the guy didn’t last long.”

Max shrugs. “I never told her.”

“Why not?”

“I might be gay, Trip, but I still have pride like any other man. I don’t want everyone to know I get my ass beat every time I turn around, especially not my female best friend who treats me more like a man than most people around here do.”

“I thought no one knows your…sexual orientation.”

“I’ve never officially come out if that’s what you mean, but people have speculated for a long time now.”

I take a deep breath. “You still should’ve told Holly what a dick Jackson has been to you.”

He shakes his head. “I wanted her to open her eyes to what an asshole he is on her own. Holly is hard-headed, and if I’d tried to tell her things about Jackson that she wasn’t ready to hear, she wouldn’t have believed them. She’s the kind of girl that has to see things with her own eyes. Like that old saying goes, love is blind.”

 “So I’ve heard.” I swallow down the last bite of my food and lean back in the chair, thinking about all the crazy shit Black Falcon has been through with Noel and Riff and all their women bullshit. Those two guys never listen to my advice in the matters of the heart. It’s like they’re too caught up in their own drama to see reason.

Max’s cell vibrates against the table, and I can clearly see Holly’s name across the caller ID. I pick up the phone without asking his permission and answer, swatting his hand away. “How’s your date?”

“Trip? Why are you answering Max’s phone?” The confusion in her voice rings clear.

“We’re here enjoying these delicious steaks you ran out on. Where are you?” She sniffs into the phone and I realize she’s crying. I stiffen in my chair. “What’s wrong? Did Jackson hurt you?”

My hand tightens around the phone at the exact moment Max pushes away from the table and heads out the door. I watch through the window as he gets into his car and tears out of the driveway. I probably should ask where he’s going, but whatever it is, it’s his business.

“No. He didn’t hurt me, but he left me here at Paulo’s. Can you ask Max to come and get me?”

My heart pounds in my chest. The thought of Holly being alone and stranded hits me hard. Bad things can happen to women left alone in a vulnerable state. The next time I see Jackson, he’s a dead man. “I’ll come and get you. Stay put inside the restaurant,” I order.

“Okay,” she agrees before she disconnects the phone.

I lay Max’s phone on the table and search my own out of my pocket. I look up the restaurant’s address in my phone and then plug it into my phone’s GPS. Two minutes later I’m on the road, following the digital voice’s directions.

I pull up to Paulo’s and cut the engine. The little Mexican joint is hoping with a party inside. A DJ in the corner both spins the top pop hit of the week, and bodies pack the small dance floor.

Jackson brought her here to discuss track business? He obviously doesn’t really give a shit about Mountain Time. What a fucking douchebag.

I weave in and out of the bodies until I spot Holly alone at a corner table for two, sipping on a drink. There’s a deep frown on her face while she watches everyone around her. She sticks out sitting there all alone in a room full of people having a good time and I get the sudden urge to lift her sprits.

The second I reach her table the song Smooth by Santana plays over the speakers and I think back to the first time I saw her and what a good time she was having that night in the bar. I’ll do anything to see that smile again.

I extend my hand and her blue eyes trail up my arm and cheat until they meet mine. “Dance with me.”

Holly sets her drink down and places her hand in mine, allowing me to pull her up and lead her to the floor. The sexy guitar chorus screams as I pull her against me without permission. Both of her arms wrap around my neck and my hands slide down her back before resting on her slim hips. We rock in time to the beat, our eyes glued to one another’s, neither of us speaking a word while our bodies do all the talking.

Her mouth drops open when I allow my hands to wander down and grab a hold of her ass. I fully expect her to pull away and give me the evil eye, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shocks me by licking her lips in anticipation.

Holy mother of God.

Those lips. They’re all I’ve been dreaming about, but didn’t want to push her into fooling around with me again unless she wants to.

She presses up on her tiptoes and whispers in my ear, “Does your invitation from the first time we danced about taking me home still stand? I’m tired of thinking about Jackson. Make me forget about him like I know you want to.”

Holly licks my earlobe once before sucking on it. My eyes roll back in my head. She has no clue how much that fucking turns me on. I only have so much self-control

I pull back and stare into her eyes. If I had to guess, she’s had a few drinks, but not enough to completely impair her judgment—just enough to loosen her up. I want her, but I want her to want me for the right reasons, not because she’s lonely and needs somebody.

Sensing my hesitation, she grabs each side of my face, pulling me down to kiss my lips. “If you want me to say please, I will. I know how you like women that beg.”

My cock jerks and I groan as I rub her ass. “You don’t know how much I want you.”

She wiggles her hips, rubbing her pelvis against mine and she grins. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

That little naughty glint in her eyes is enough to allow my brain to say, “Fuck all the logical reasoning for not giving her what she’s asking for.” I thread my fingers in her hair and plant my lips on hers. She opens her mouth and allows my tongue entrance so I deepen our kiss.

I fucking want her. I know I shouldn’t and I’ve been fighting against this very thing happening since I found out who she was, but ever since the last taste I had of her on the couch, this is all I’ve been thinking about. I just didn’t want to seem like a pushy asshole bringing up the situation, especially since she was doing her best to pretend that nothing ever happened between us.

I pull back and stare into her lust-filled eyes before pulling her arms from around my neck and leading her out of the restaurant. I can’t wait any longer.

The moment we reach the Mustang, I spin Holly around and back her against the car. My mouth crashes into hers. She’s even sweeter than I remember and it’s fucking addicting.

I kiss a trail down her jaw line and nibble on the sensitive skin below her ear.  Holly throws her head back and moans as I work my way back to her mouth.

“I want you, Trip. Take me home,” she says in a breathy voice.

I pull her forward and reach behind her, opening the car door. “Get in,” I order.

The entire fifteen-minute ride, Holly has her seatbelt off and leans across the console, rubbing my thigh while teasing me with kisses. We pull down into the driveway and my headlights shine on the house. Fuck. I can’t very well have my way with her upstairs while her ill father lays downstairs and has to listen to that. I’m not that fucking disrespectful.