All For You (Rocktown Ink #5) Sherilee Gray (best memoirs of all time .TXT) 📖

up. Those eyes hit me full force, shocking the shit out of me, zapping me with a dose of pure brooding sexiness that had the power to knock me off my feet. I stumbled, my ankle tipping perilously in my spiked heel.

“Careful there, honey.”

The older man caught me before I lost my drink and got a face-full of alcohol-soaked carpet.

“Those are some quick reflexes you have there.”

He chuckled. “I saw you coming.”

“No one else even attempted to save me. You’re the only gentleman in the room. Thank you kindly, good sir.”

His grin widened. “You’re hard to miss. I think you probably intimidate most of these morons.”

I liked this guy. “You think so?”

“Unique scares some men. The weak ones, anyway.”

“I’m not as scary as I look. I’m like a peacock, all plume and no bite.”

His eyes sparkled. “I don’t believe that for a moment.”

I rested my elbow on the bar. “Okay, you got me there. I have sharp claws, but I save them for the idiots who really piss me off.”

He laughed and I grinned.

The door opened and my new friend glanced over at the woman who had just walked in. His smile widened as if the sun had just come up. “My ride’s here,” he said. “Nice talking to you, honey. And don’t waste your time on a man who doesn’t appreciate you, claws and all.” Then he patted my hand and headed for his lady friend at the door.

That was nice, in fact, my eyes were stinging again. Then I remembered why I’d walked over to him in the first place. “Hey!”

He turned back.

I held up my glass. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Wish I could take the credit.” He smirked and tilted his head to the tall, silent man standing not far from me. The god.

I spun around and Adonis, the name just popped into my head, was watching me with that electric-blue gaze. He said nothing.

I stared back, swallowed…swallowed again. My mouth was suddenly dry as hell. “You bought me the drink?”

He dipped his chin, a small curve to his sinful mouth.

“Um…well, thanks.”

“All good.” He took a sip from his beer. “Think you’re needed on stage.”

“Pardon?”

“The lady in red?”

His deep voice skated down my spine, and I shivered.

“You’re up, lady in red,” the guy at the karaoke machine called, his voice finally penetrating my lust haze. I turned, and the guy waved to me. “Any day now, sweetheart.”

Laughter rumbled through the bar.

Shit.

Mase

Fuck me, she was gorgeous.

My gaze followed her as she rushed to the stage, somehow not stumbling again in those killer heels. Before she’d arrived, the bar had seemed dark, bland, colorless. Then she walked in with her brightly inked arms, delicate gold nose ring, red dress, and platinum blond hair, and lit the place up. The fifties-style dress she wore clung to her waist, flaring out at her hips, showing off just how small and curvy she was.

She was soft, sexy, and so damn tempting, I hadn’t been able to look away.

Since my wife walked out nearly a year ago, I’d barely looked at another woman. I hadn’t wanted anyone else. Looking at the “lady in red” now…I wanted. I wanted so fucking badly I ached.

Jesus, I hadn’t planned to talk to her. She was obviously young. Too young for me. But I’d wanted the sadness gone from her eyes. She’d looked…lonely. A feeling I was all too familiar with.

She smiled at the guy in charge of the karaoke machine and gave him a subtle nod.

Music started up, slow and melodic.

It was Patsy Cline’s “Walkin’ After Midnight.”

Definitely not what I’d expected. And for some reason, when she moved up to the mic and gripped it with a shaking hand, my heart beat faster.

The people around me cheered, several wolf whistled, and someone yelled, “Yeah, baby!”

She ignored them all, her eyes closing for several long seconds before they opened, big and sad and fucking heartbreakingly gorgeous.

Christ, she looked like she belonged there on stage. The hair, the dress, the shoes…she was a fifties pinup dream girl. And yeah, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

Then she began to sing, and I had to grip the edge of the bar. Her voice was smoky and achingly sweet. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she sang about searching for her lost love. She poured so much feeling into that song that I believed her. Fuck, I was jealous of some random guy in an old song. Because she sold it—the pain, the heartbreak—and right then for some unexplainable reason, I wanted to be the one to make her smile again.

When the song finished, the room erupted into cheers. Again, she ignored it all and headed back toward the bar, straight for me. I curled my fingers tighter around my glass as she took the vacant spot beside me and gave me a sidelong glance, her stunning green eyes taking my measure as she reached for her own glass.

Without thinking, I slid it out of her reach and motioned to the barman to get her a fresh one.

She cocked a brow. “Um…what was that?”

“Not a good idea to leave your drink unattended.”

She turned to me fully, her head to the side. “But you were right here the whole time.”

It was an effort to drag my gaze away from her plump lips. “You don’t know me.”

“Nope,” she said. “Good point. You could be a major weirdo. Though I’m not getting that vibe from you.”

I huffed out a laugh. My sister’s infuriating friend, Trixie, the one currently decorating my house, used that word vibe all the time.

Okay, so what vibe are we going for in the living room? And Ah…no, that’s not the vibe, Mason, not happening. When I told her I wanted blue for my bedroom.

Though I could admit, I more than enjoyed sparring with her. She gave as good as she got, and I liked that a whole lot.

She was also the reason I was here and not in my own damn house. I’d planned to spend