Holding a pile of bar towels, wearing clothes two sizes too big, her hair was a fucking mess of curls. Her gaze cutting to Dax, then me, she faltered. Pulling her arms in close, she rasped out an apology. “Sorry. I didn’t know we were open yet.”
Scratchy, sleep rough, and sexy as fuck, her voice went straight to my dick.
Dax gentled his tone. “It’s okay, Brookelyn. This is my friend, Collins.”
Unable to look away, I stared at her deep blue eyes. “Hey.”
Skittish like a cornered animal, her stormy-eyed gaze locked on mine for a split second then darted to Dax. “I’ll finish up later.”
Dax held his beer up. “You want to join us?”
Before he’d even finished asking the question, she was shaking her head. Her silky, almost black curls bounced around, and she tossed the towels on the cooler. “I gotta go.” She hightailed it back the way she came.
I stared after her, feeling like I’d just been sucker punched. Then said more than I should. “She’s pretty.” Even in her baggy clothes I could tell she had curves that’d make a man weak.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dax warned, practically growling at me. “She doesn’t need your brand of trouble.”
“I’m not trouble. I don’t fuck with women.” I was never around long enough.
He leveled me with a look. “The only thing you do is fuck with them.”