30. Remember Yet?

30

Remember Yet?

T he Beaver Dam encapsulated the entirety of Sage Ridge’s party scene. A heavy dark oak bar held up one entire wall. Booths lined both sides of the restaurant, becoming darker and more intimate the further back from the bar they stretched. A smattering of tables dotted the area between the bar and the smallest stage in the western hemisphere.

For once, it was in use.

It wasn’t often The Beaver Dam managed to snag a band. Apparently, the bass player grew up in Moose Lake and had invited his former band down for his bachelor party. What better way to celebrate than jumping at the chance to play together?

They were fantastic. The lead singer of Drivetrain, a sexy Viking, belted out song after song in a deep raspy voice that fairly disintegrated panties.

I eyed the thick gold band around his finger, internally cheering for the lucky woman who bagged him.

Noelle and Harley, both pregnant and professing fatigue, had bowed out of the night’s festivities to stay home with their doting husbands, Hawkley and Daire. Which sucked because I really wanted Gabe to get to know Daire better.

Maybe I’d invite them over.

I sat up straighter. Invite them over to Gabe’s house. Like we’re a real couple, living together, me hosting.

I set my glass of what tasted a lot like strawberry punch down on the table.

Gabe slung an arm over my shoulders. “What’s up, Shae-baby?”

I turned my head to meet his eyes. He swam in front of me for half a second before coming into focus.

“Hey!” I grinned at him. “My God, you are handsome.”

His face creased with happiness, his eyes dancing. “You enjoying your drink?”

I leaned closer and smiled up into his face. “Yes!” My brow furrowed. “There was something—oh! Can I invite Harley and Daire over for dinner to your house?”

His eyebrows rose and he nodded, a soft smile touching his lips. “Sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.” He reached around me and pulled the scrunchie out of my hair, slipping it onto his wrist. “What do you say we knock another item off that bucket list of yours?”

I tilted my head to the side. “Which one?”

He grinned. “Drunk sex.”

My eyes lit up. “Yes. Definitely, yes.” I wanted that. Badly. Wanted to see what it was like to have sex with zero inhibitions. I eyed my glass. “You best keep me topped up.”

“Not too much.” He laughed. “Blackout sex is not on the list.”

Our table was situated right beside the bar which made getting refills easy. Max and Wren sat across from Gabe and me, Bridge sat between me and Wren, while Julian took the seat between Gabe and Max. Kian, who came in late, sat on a stool beside us at the bar.

When the band took a break, Julian, Max, and Gabe settled into their usual banter, teasing Wren and making me blush while Bridge egged them on.

Despite Gabe repeatedly attempting to draw Kian into conversation, Kian orbited the perimeter of our group like a solitary electron, belonging, but set apart.

According to Bridge and Wren, he was back to stay even if it wasn’t the most welcoming of circumstances. His obvious discomfort made my heart bleed.

I leaned into Gabe. “Can we invite Kian and Bridge and Julian too?”

He ran the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Babe, you can invite anyone you want, anytime you want to.”

He said it as if it was my house.

I hadn’t had friends to host or a house to host at for years.

Not that it was my house. I hazarded a glance at Gabe whose eyes were on me, soft and knowing.

My spirit whispered inside me. But it could be, it could be yours.

Soon .

My shoulders hugged my ears, and I grinned. “Thank you.”

His smile warmed me to my toes.

I turned back to my girls with a big, satisfied, sigh and dove back into my spiked punch.

Bridge, her eyes on Kian, seemed to make up her mind about something. With a brief nod toward Kian, she said to me, “I’ll be right back.”

She began to stand, then stopped short, her palms flat on the table, ass half off the chair, her attention swinging to Wren. “Wren—”

Wren held up her palm. “Bridge, you go there any way you want to. I told you I have no claim on that man. Not in any way, shape, or form. And I would like to see him happy. I want him to stay.” She smiled. “More, I want to see you happy.”

Bridge’s eyes widened as she argued, “We’re not even friends. I barely know him.”

Wren smiled. “But you would like to be.”

Bridge stared at Wren, her throat bobbing. “Maybe?”

Wren laughed. “Well, go figure it out then.”

Instead of leaving, she sat back down. “You wouldn’t mind if he hung out with us? On the regular? Max wouldn’t mind?”

“Not in the least,” Wren assured her.

Bridge took a deep breath and rounded the table to slide onto the empty stool beside Kian. Within a minute, he was laughing.

“If anyone can get him to loosen up, it’s Bridge. She’s the best,” I concluded.

“She is.”

The sounds of a guitar being tuned floated across the bar.

The scraggy blond guitarist hopped up on stage and crossed to the drummer, slapping him on the back. The drummer tossed his head back and ran his hand through his messy black hair before twirling his sticks through his fingers.

The Viking grinned and shook his head at something they said, while the bass player ducked his head with a wide grin, his shoulders shaking.

There was no time or space for talking as the set started back up.

Sitting back, a drink in my hand, Gabe’s arm around my shoulders, his knee bouncing to the beat, long fingers drumming at intervals on my shoulder, I let the music fill me.

Two drinks later, Gabe cut me off and switched me to water. And as soon as we got into the house, he backed me up against the wall.

“There’s something about being with you at a bar looking the way you do that makes me want to take you home and fuck you hard, remind you who you belong to.”

His words set my body on fire. I craved whatever he had to give me.

“Maybe I need reminding,” I gasped, goading him further.

Dropping his hands to the hem of my blouse, he ripped it up over my head and flicked open the front clasp of my bra before bending me back over his arm.

I latched onto his forearms, squeezing the muscle as it corded under my hands.

He dipped his dark head and licked a swath from my ribs to my collarbone before dropping his chin to sink his teeth into my breast.

I sucked in a harsh breath.

“Remember yet?” he challenged, his tongue laving away the pain.

“Starting to,” I wheezed.

He pulled me back upright.

“Turn. Hands on the wall.”

I spun around immediately. My body stopped but my head kept going for a moment before settling.

Gabe’s shirt hit the floor at my feet.

My head fell back into his hands as he began smoothing my hair back from my face. He gathered it together in a high ponytail, the sharp bite of pain flooding my pussy as he snapped the elastic from his wrist around my hair.

Dropping his hands to my shoulders, he pressed his mouth to the sweet spot where my neck met my shoulder, the delicious scrape of his scruff rolling my eyes back in my head. With his lips delivering the gentlest of kisses, he taunted, “Let’s see if this reminds you.”

He turned me around and reached behind my head. Wrapping his fist around my ponytail, he pulled my head back and slanted his head, his mouth a delicate brush over mine.

Moving back a breath, he bit out, “Get on your knees.”