“Hoops or studs?” She holds one of each earring up to her ears, asking my opinion. I move up behind her, wrap my arms around her middle, and bend down to bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. She is everything soft and gentle and good.

She’s everything.

“They both look great,” I murmur into her neck, and let my hands glide down her hips to her naked, smooth thighs and up under her dress.

“We don’t have time for this,” she mutters with a giggle.

“I love that sound.”

“What sound?” She tilts her head farther to the side, giving me better access to her throat.

“Your giggle.” Her dress is up around her waist now and my hands are roaming over her hips and ass, glorying in the warmth of her soft skin.

“Josh, we have to—” She can’t complete the thought as she bites her lip and leans into my chest, widening her stance as my hand moves between her legs to fondle her pussy.

I fucking love her pussy.

“We have to what?” I ask, and chuckle when she swallows hard and opens those gorgeous green eyes to watch me in the mirror.

“Go.”

“We will.” I smile softly at her in the mirror and hold her gaze in mine as my hands drive her wild.

No one else is as responsive as Carolina is.

“When I touch you”—I kiss her shoulder and her neck—“you always give yourself to me so easily.”

“Did you want me to put up a fight?” she asks dryly.

“No, it’s fucking sexy as hell.” I push her hair away from the back of her neck and kiss her there, push on her clit with my thumb and wrap my arm around her to pinch a nipple through her dress. “Come for me, Cara.”

And she does, bending at the waist, holding on to the countertop and pushing her sexy ass back against me.

I pull my hands away, smooth her dress back into place, and grin at her.

“I like the hoop earrings.”

She’s panting as she grins back at me, her eyes glassy with lust. “Okay.”

* * *

The bar is crowded, which is expected on a holiday weekend in the heart of summer. A mixture of tourists and locals are mingling in various stages of drunkenness. The band has been playing in this bar for the past twenty years. They play a mixture of classic rock and country, and they are badass.

Right now they’re playing “Brown Eyed Girl.”

The stage and the dance floor are adjacent to the pool room, with tall, round tables and stools scattered about. Ty secured one of the four pool tables before we got here.

“Good shot, man,” Ty calls to Zack, who just sank his red ball in a corner pocket.

“I figured you’d have forgotten how to play over there in the sandbox.” I take a pull on my beer and watch my brother circle the table, looking for his next shot.

“Fuck you,” he retorts with a grin, and sinks his yellow ball in the side pocket.

“Nope, nothing’s changed.” Ty laughs and sips his gin and tonic.

“How can you drink that shit?” I ask him with a grimace. “It tastes like toilet water.”

“How do you know what toilet water tastes like?” he asks with a raise of a brow.

Fucker. “You’re an ass.” I laugh and shake my head, looking out to the dance floor to watch my girl and her friends dancing and moving about.

“They’re having fun,” Zack comments without looking over to them, and sinks another ball.

“Are any of us going to get to play, Z?” I ask.

He shrugs and chalks his cue.

Cara rushes to me and grabs my hand. “Come dance with me. I love this song!”

How can I resist her?

I grin and pass my cue to Ty. “Take my turn, if we ever get a turn. I’ll be back.”

Cara pulls me out into the middle of the dance floor where the band is playing “Just a Kiss” by Lady Antebellum. When she’s happy with our spot, she turns and presses her body against mine, loops her arms around my neck, and smiles up at me.

“You’re too tall.”

“You’ve had a few too many drinks,” I respond with a laugh.

She’s adorable.

“Here.” She pulls her arms down around my waist and snuggles up against my chest. Her cheek rests perfectly against my heart.

Isn’t that fucking appropriate?

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and we sway about the dance floor. Her hair smells of her usual strawberries and it’s soft against my lips.

The lyrics of the song pull me in and I’m lost in the music and the feel of my girl in my arms.

When it’s over, she pulls her head back and grins up at me happily. Leaning down, I kiss her lips hard and fast, then laugh when she pulls away and screams at the first few notes of the next song.

She’s a Daughtry fan.

Jill joins her and they begin shaking their asses and singing along, and I make my way back to the pool tables.

“The girls are having fun.” Ty sips his disgusting drink, his eyes on the dance floor.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was checking out Cara, and I know he’s not looking at Jill. I glance back and see that Lauren Cunningham has joined the girls, dancing and swaying with the music, laughing and enjoying herself.

Ty’s eyes are glued to her.

“Dude, you know Lo’s married.”

He doesn’t even spare me a glance, just takes another sip of his drink.

“Been separated for two years,” he reminds me, and leans his elbow on the table, still watching her.