Choose Me by RC Boldt

Author:RC Boldt [Boldt, RC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RC Boldt Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-05-20T18:30:00+00:00

“This is…not quite what I was expectin’.”

I stare—gawk, if I’m being honest—at the most dilapidated bar front I’ve ever seen. The Pink Elephant—or ink Elhat, according to their sad excuse for a sign with multiple letters missing—looks as though it’s a front for something much seedier than just serving alcohol.

Hollis chuckles. “Ye of little faith.” With a wink, he adds, “Trust me?”

I stare at him with wide-eyed apprehension. “Right now, I’m not so sure.”

His grin is wide and makes him even more endearing. Even if he is trying to coerce me into entering the seediest bar around. “Come on, now. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I flick my eyes to the darkened windows of the bar. Good Lord, the tint is so dark, you can’t even see if the lights are on inside. “The worst that could happen?” I give him a skeptical look. “I reckon I could get an STD just by—”

He dips his head closer and levels me with a look. “Never thought you to be judgmental and close-minded like your mama.”

Ouch. Well, that just flat-out stung, but now that I think about it, Hollis has a point. Just because I’ve never been inside a place that looked like this one shouldn’t necessarily mean anything bad.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I dart another curious glance at the door of the bar. “How’d you find out about this place?”

His expression softens, and his lips quirk slightly. “I was at the junkyard lookin’ for a part for the truck and came across this gentleman. Got to talkin’. He told me about this place.

“Turns out he owns a garage where he does body work and offered to let me use his equipment after hours.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and lowers his gaze to his shoes. “Said I reminded him of his son.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” I pause at his somber expression. “Does his son live far away?”

As soon as I ask, his lips turn down, and I instantly know I won’t like his answer.

“He died overseas. Army.”

I reach out and lay my hand on his arm. “Oh no! Poor thing.”

“You’ll like Mr. Ted.” His eyes brighten when they rise to meet mine. “He’s a straight shooter.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” With a bit more pep in my step, I start for the door, but Hollis’ hand on my wrist draws me to a stop. I toss him a questioning look.

“Anytime you want to leave, you say the word, ’kay?” His eyes hold mine with such intensity, my breath hitches. “You’ve had a rough night, but I wanted to try to get your mind off things…” Hollis darts a quick glance at the door before returning to me as if he’s second-guessing bringing me here.

“And I’m grateful for this.” My soft voice seems to echo in the night air. The blaring of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” ekes out even from behind the closed door of the bar.

A corner of his mouth tips up. He holds out a large palm and waits for me to place mine in it.

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