“Fair enough.” He shrugs and pulls a beer out from the cooler, popping off the top, and setting it in front of her.
“I’ll take one too,” I tell him as I move next to her, not ready to call it a night or leave her alone.
Rosie lifts the bottle toward her mouth, but before she takes a sip, she glances over at me. “Maybe you should go to the other end over by the bimbos who are more your type.”
I touch my chest, pretending to be offended by her statement. “Why do you assume they’re my type? Maybe I like women more like you. I don’t like easy.”
She grunts, keeping her eyes on me as she places the rim of the bottle against her sweet lips and downs half the contents.
“I prefer a little chase in my hunt,” I say just as she places the bottle back on the bar.
She wipes her lips with the back of her hand like she’s one of the boys, but nothing about her screams masculinity. “All men say that, but none of them mean it. As soon as pussy’s right in front of your face, you couldn’t care less how you came about it as long as you get it.”
“You know nothing about me.”
She lets out a small laugh, and her blue eyes sparkle in the shit lighting of the bar. “You know nothing about me either.”
“We can change that,” I offer, wanting nothing more than to learn everything there is to know about Rosie Gallo.
“Not on your life,” she mumbles, going back to nursing her beer and ignoring me.
But I like her attention, even when it’s bad. I grew up with negative bullshit and it didn’t break me then, so she sure as fuck won’t chase me away now.
“Baby, why so cold? You were showing that sweet side when we texted earlier. Now you’re like ice.”
She stares straight ahead, robbing me of her beautiful eyes. “I wasn’t sweet. I was being respectful. There’s a difference.”
“I like when you sweetly disrespect me.”
She finally turns toward me and rolls her eyes. “Listen, Dylan. It’s never happening with us. You can move along to an easy target or some other prey you may have a chance with. I’m a Gallo. You’re a Walsh. The two don’t mix.”
“I’m a Walsh by name only.”
“Still a Walsh. Whether I think you’re hot or not.”
“You think I’m hot,” I tell her with a smile.
“You’re asinine.”
“You’re hot as fuck,” I say, laying it out.
“I know,” she replies, catching me off guard.
She has attitude and confidence. A one-two punch that goes straight to my dick. “We could be friends, Rosie Gallo.”
She stares at me, searching my face, and I’m hopeful for a hot second that she’ll at least agree to be something to me. “That’s a negative, buddy.”
My hopes are momentarily dashed, but I’ve never been one to give up, especially not that easily or quickly. “You’ll change your mind.”
“I will not.”
I scoot closer until the sides of our arms are touching and lean over until my mouth is near her ear. “You will, baby,” I whisper, making my intentions crystal fucking clear.
She doesn’t move for a second, and I can’t see her face until she turns so her mouth is so close to mine, I can smell the beer on her breath. “No means no, in case you missed that messaging as part of civilized society.”
“You’ll ask me for it.”
She blinks, staring at me in disbelief. “You’re delusional.”
Fuck, she’s so damn beautiful and strong. I want to grab her face and haul those lips to mine, devouring every drop of her until she has nothing more to give.
“I’m persistent, and when I see something I want, I go after it until it’s mine. And news flash, baby—right now, I’m looking at what I want to possess.”
She doesn’t respond right away but continues to stare at me while taking shallow, fast breaths. “You’re…”
I move a little closer until our lips are touching, and I can feel the heat of her skin against my face. “Don’t say something you don’t mean. I’d hate to prove you wrong, Rosie.”
“No one possesses me,” she whispers against my lips.
My smile is immediate. “Good to know you’re free.”
“That’s not what…”
“Shh, baby. You haven’t found the right man. But don’t worry, you have now.”
She moves back, out from my orbit and the gravitational push and pull that flows between us. “I have to go,” she says and reaches into her pocket.
“I got it,” I tell her. “My girl never pays for her own drinks.”
“I’m not your girl,” she says, pulling out a ten and throwing it on the bar. “Never have been and never will be.”
“We’ll see,” I reply as she narrows her eyes on me one more time before letting out a huff and stalking toward the exit like she’s running from her future.
And whether she knows it or not, she is.
Nothing in my life has been easy, except women, and they grow tiring in a hurry. But there’s something about Rosie Gallo that has me wanting to explore every inch of her and see what really makes her tick.
Gauntlet thrown. Challenge accepted.
“You have zero shot,” my brother says from the other side of the bar as I watch Rosie’s hips sway with each step.
When she finally disappears, I turn back toward him, still not liking him even if we’re blood. “That girl will be mine. No doubt about that shit.”
“You’re a Walsh. We’re not good enough for the Gallos. You know how their family feels about us.”
“I haven’t thought of myself as part of the family in seventeen years, Ian. I’m here only to help you and for no other reason. I’m sure as soon as you have what you need, I won’t be welcomed back into the fold…not that I’d want to be anyway.”
“That’s bullshit, brother.”
“It is what it is, and don’t call me that. You haven’t bothered to see if I was breathing since the day I walked out the door. Don’t bother pretending to care now.”
“Still an asshole.”
“An asshole who’s here to save your life,” I reply.
He gives me a chin lift before heading back to waiting on customers and leaving me in peace to finish my beer and figure out how to win over Rosie Gallo and make her mine.
7
ROSIE
I barely have the key in the ignition when Luna climbs in the passenger seat and slams the door. “You were going to leave me in there?”
I groan and lean forward, placing my forehead against the steering wheel. “He was in there.”
“He who?” she asks.
I lift my head and throw my hand toward the bar. “Dylan.”
She turns as if she’s hoping to see him. “No shit. That’s great news, yeah?”
“No, Luna, it’s not. And he punched some asshole in the face.”
She stares me straight in the eyes like I’m speaking a foreign language. “Did the asshole deserve it?”