Sweet Trouble Read Free Page A

Voss back in town, but I don’t want her dancing with one of these pricks. The girl’s twenty. I remember her saying that, just like I remember everything about her. She’s not even old enough to be in this bar, much less mess around with any of the shitheads in this place.
    Eddy the bartender brings me my second beer and follows my gaze. “That right there looks like trouble.”
    Drying a glass with a tattered bar towel he keeps his gaze on her.
    “Why don’t you quit your fucking staring,” I say.
    He gives me a look of bemusement. “You planning on tapping that?”
    “Not a chance. She’s a Voss.”
    Giving a low whistle he turns away to look at her again. “Damn she’s pretty. I think I heard about her. She’s David Voss’s niece.”
    Fulton is a small town. I’d asked around about Bailey and a few people told me the same thing. She’s not from around here but happened to end up working in Fulton. Part of some traveling nurse job she has. Everyone probably wonders if my feud with the family will extend to the niece, a girl who probably knows nothing about David Voss’s sick interests.
    A growl rumbles in my chest because I see guys checking her out. I want to ram my fist through something. It’s been a long time since I brawled but that’s what I feel like right now.
    Fighting.
    I want to fuck too but that’s completely out of the question, because the only woman I want is the blue-eyed woman who’s been messing with my head for the last week. Plenty of women here would be happy to come home and spend the evening perched on my cock. I don’t want any of them. How fucked is that?
    Why did I even come to the bar? I hate this shit. But, I had a feeling she might be here tonight, Friday night. It wasn’t too hard to figure out. There are not a lot of options for night life in Fulton. I knew she’d show up just like I knew I had to see her again.
    She gets up from her table and strolls past the dance floor, five paces from me. She has to know I’m here, but she hasn’t looked at me yet. With each step of her fussy, embroidered cowboy boots, the tips of her hair brush the small of her back.
    One of the cowboys who was sniffing around her saunters off the direction of the bathrooms, following her. I’m off my barstool in a heartbeat. I see the way he smirks at his buddies as he heads down the dim hallway. Sure thing, asshole. Way to be subtle.
    This was exactly what I imagined would happen. A sweet-faced girl like Bailey’s going to draw men like flies to honey and she can see whomever she wants. I don’t care. At all. But this guy’s not getting the chance to even talk to her because I don’t like his looks. Shifty bastard.
    I round the corner just in time to see him step into the mother-fucking lady’s room. Is this the type of shit guys do now? Try to corner a lady in the bathroom?
    I kick the door open and the guy’s standing by the sink, waiting. His expression darkens when he sees me.
    “You took a wrong turn buddy,” I tell him.
    “Jesus,” I hear Bailey say. The toilet flushes and she steps out of the stall. Her gaze zeroes in on the cowboy by the sink. She’s about to lay into him but then sees me. She retreats a few steps, slamming into the stall door. Panic washes over her features.
    “This asshole came in here looking for you,” I tell her.
    “You Mount McKinley?” the guy asks.
    “That’s right.”
    The guy puts his hands up and slides past me, muttering something about not wanting trouble.
    Bailey watches him leave and then returns her frightened gaze to me. Behind me, a couple of women stagger in, giggling, arm-in-arm with another woman. When they catch sight of me, they stop laughing. They’re eyes widen and they back out, scrambling to get away and yelling something about getting a room.
    I wait to see if anyone else is coming in. Nobody does and I turn my attention back to Bailey, who hasn’t moved a step. She’s holding her purse in front of her, shielding herself,