Walking the Line Read Free

spiky blonde hair, kohl-rimmed blue eyes, vivid
red-slicked lips and black leather.
    She would’ve intimidated me once, that kind
of brash, bold woman. But I was through being the perfect son who
dated the perfect woman. I couldn’t be that guy anymore. Not for my
family. Not for me. And there was something about Ellie that
intrigued me on an intrinsic level. I’d felt sucker-punched in the
gut when she’d first looked at me, all wary defiance, as if she
expected me to punch back and would come out swinging.
    So I’d done what came naturally. Flirted. Kye
had later mentioned I was lucky Ellie hadn’t kneed me in the balls
on the spot. But Kye had also mentioned he’d never seen Ellie so
defensive, which meant I’d crept under her guard. Something I
intended on doing throughout my training, starting now, as I caught
sight of her coming down the stairs tucked into the back
corner.
    The first thing I noticed, she’d changed.
Swapped the black leather pants and jacket for a red, skin-tight
leather mini and a crimson bustier that pushed her tits up to
create an eye-popping cleavage. The second thing? She hadn’t lost
the scowl but my rock-hard cock didn’t seem to care.
    “What are you staring at?” She marched behind
the bar, rested her hands on it, and glared.
    “You look incredible,” I said, the simple
truth not garnering any change in expression from her. So I
switched to charm. “Can’t a guy appreciate the beauty of a woman?”
I didn’t add, ‘without getting his head snapped off.’
    “You’re full of shit,” she said, sounding
utterly disgusted. “Now do you want to learn the ropes or not?”
    “I’m all yours.” I stepped around the bar to
stand close. Close enough to smell an alluring fragrance
reminiscent of the short stopover I’d had in Hong Kong: Oriental,
mysterious, heady. “Do your worst.”
    She stiffened, her squared shoulders giving
me another eyeful of that enticing cleavage. “Cut the bullshit
flirting, okay? I’m immune.” She tapped her watch. “Save it for the
customers, who’ll be arriving in less than an hour.”
    Rather than give in, I pushed myself up onto
the bar, sitting on it so I could face her. “Don’t you like
flirting?”
    “What do you think, Einstein?” Her withering
stare would’ve shriveled the balls on a lesser man. But I wasn’t
backing down. I needed to be in that room over the bar later
tonight and that meant whittling away at her defenses, one quip at
a time.
    She puffed out a long breath. “Look, it’s
been a long week. You either want this job or not. Me? I don’t give
a shit but Kye’s a good guy and he asked me to hire you as a
favor.” She pointed at the beer kegs. “So you either get your arse
off my bar and start showing me what you’ve got or you can piss
off.”
    I’d like to show her what I had but then I’d
be back to square one: no money and living in that hellhole
hostel.
    Appearing suitably chastised, I slid off the
bar and landed on my feet. “I appreciate the job. And Kye is a good
guy, because for some unknown reason he took pity on an idiot
Irishman this afternoon, not only preventing me getting bashed, but
getting me this job too. So thanks.”
    Her response was a brief nod but I noted the
softening around her mouth.
    “I’ve worked in pubs back home, so I’m used
to pulling a pint or two.”
    At last, she looked at me, and she’d lost the
mean glitter in her eyes. “Where you from?”
    “Cork. Ever been to Ireland?”
    For a second I swore I glimpsed sadness
lurking in those big, blue eyes before she shook her head.
    “So you’ve lived in Sydney your whole
life?”
    She hesitated, glanced away. “Came here in my
late teens. Was a small town girl before that. Never
travelled.”
    “Me either. This is my first trip and I only
came here because…” I trailed off, not wanting to divulge the
entire truth, because it’d make me sound like a sissy.
    “Because?” she prompted, staring at me with
interest. At