Pure Wicked (Page 7)

Pure Wicked (Wicked Lovers #9.5)(7)
Author: Shayla Black

The more her mother asked questions, the more suspicious she sounded—with good reason. It wasn’t as if Lewisville had a huge pool of eligible bachelors, and Bristol didn’t make the trip west to Texarkana often.

She shot Jayla a glare. Her friend shrugged in silent apology. She appreciated Jayla wanting to prevent her mother from continuing the bitter-hag routine, but this lie simply didn’t help.

“Mama…” Bristol sighed, knowing she needed to swallow a choking bite of humble pie and admit that she was totally single. But damn, she wished she didn’t have to.

Behind her, she heard a shuffle and turned to see an absolutely gorgeous guy emerge from the shadows. His tight black tank framed an amazing set of muscled shoulders, one of which was covered by a tribal tattoo. He had a strong jaw, wore a black skullcap and a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses, along with a smile that made her breath catch.

When he removed the shades to stare at her, his dark eyes danced with amusement. “Hi, honey. Sorry I’m late.”

* * * *

Jesse knew he should have resisted butting in, but the cute little brunette had clearly been through hell with her sister and the ex-asshat. Her mother’s haranguing only seemed to make her sink down on her barstool more, as if she wanted to escape. He knew what it was like to have shit coming at him from all directions. That lesson felt particularly fresh now.

He had sneaked a peek at the entertainment news on his smart phone when he’d wandered into town a few hours ago…and wished he hadn’t. If he could go back in time and stop Ryan from tragically ending two lives, he’d be eternally grateful. Sadly, a miracle wasn’t in the cards for him, but he kind of hoped the girl at the bar saw him as one. She wasn’t crying in her beer yet, but if he couldn’t give her some breathing room soon, she absolutely might.

When he spoke, her green eyes, tucked under the sun-kissed fringe of her bangs, bounced from the bar, up to his face. She blinked, stared. Jesse worried that covering his shorn hair, shaving the scruff, removing his earrings, and not wearing leather wouldn’t be enough to disguise him. He knew damn well he’d taken a big, impulsive risk by showing himself in public—but who could resist a dive called Bubba Oink’s Bone Yard?—and jumping in to Bristol’s situation. Thankfully, he didn’t see recognition on her face, merely confusion.

“I’m not too late, am I?” he prompted.

She swallowed, and her pretty African-American friend discreetly nudged her ribs with an elbow. The brunette slid off the stool. “Ah…no. We haven’t eaten yet.”

“What’s your name, young man? My daughter hasn’t mentioned you.” Her mother, who had a serious case of helmet hair, sent him a frown somewhere between puzzled and disapproving.

He stuck out a hand and improvised. “My name is James, ma’am. Most of my friends call me Jamie. Nice to meet you.”

Her mother took his hand. Her soft skin felt cold. “James. I’m Linda Mae.”

“I’m Jayla,” Bristol’s friend added with a friendly handshake. “So glad I finally get to meet you.”

“Pleasure.” He nodded at the women, then took the pretty brunette’s hand in his. “It’s good to see you, Bristol.”

Surprise widened her eyes even more. He liked the way she wore her emotions on her face, the way freckles dusted her nose, the way her pouty lower lip shimmered under the lights.

“Um…you, too, Jamie.” She sent him a stilted smile.

Linda Mae shook her head suspiciously, then huffed back to the others.

“We should join the party,” her friend suggested and grabbed her by the elbow, hauling her toward the gathering. She gazed past Bristol to him with a wink. “Thanks for joining us.”

He grinned back and followed. “You’re welcome.”

The long table around which everyone else sat looked fairly cramped, and Jesse didn’t think Bristol wanted to get cozy with these folks anyway. So he pulled up seats at the empty table directly behind it. He placed Bristol between him and her friend, then looped a casual arm around the back of her chair, brushing her long ponytail as he did. He’d enjoy his knight-in-shining-armor routine for an evening, then he and Bristol could have an amicable “breakup” before he continued down the road in search of somewhere to spend the next couple of weeks. But for tonight, she’d have a reason to thumb her nose at her mother and sister.

On the far side of the party’s table, a blonde wearing too much makeup and a gaudy engagement ring made googly eyes at a twerp with light brown hair and a condescending expression. Bristol had dated him?