Yep, and people in hell want ice-water, Ronnie, she said to herself as she made the next drink.
Fate had been a cruel mistress these last few months. Ronnie had finally gotten the promotion she’d wanted at the Tampa Big Cat Rehabilitation and Rescue Habitat, then she got an insane call from her sister, Golden. Her life hadn’t been the same since.
Golden’s boyfriend at the time had imprisoned her, and was convinced that if he bit her, she would change.
What did that mean?
Golden was in tears as she relayed the details of her captivity to Ronnie and was convinced her ex would find her again. The police were no help. The guy came from money, or the mafia, or some crazy shit like that, and the authorities didn’t want to interfere. They had no choice, Ronnie quit her job the next day, and they’d been on the run ever since.
Now, she and her sister were in Texas, in some town no one had ever heard of. She felt moderately safe, but her life was too complicated for her to be in a relationship with anyone. But this soft-spoken, utterly gorgeous guy called to something in her in a way she’d never felt before.
“Goldie,” Ronnie said when her little sister stopped at the end of the bar.
“They’re animals out there tonight. Touching, grabbing, no kind of manners.” Golden threw the small round tray she used for multiple drinks under the bar. “What’s up?”
“That guy in the back corner,” Ronnie said with her back to the room.
Golden leaned to see around her sister.
“Oh my God, don’t look,” Ronnie squealed, pulling her sister back upright.
A smile as big as Texas flourished across Golden’s face. “Ronela Anne-Marie Garrison.” She looked around, then lowered her voice. “Are you smitten with someone? I never thought I’d see the day. Well, in order for me not to flirt with your man, tell me what he looks like, please.”
“He’s a tall guy in a long black leather coat, light-skinned, low-cut fade, beautiful pale green eyes…” Ronnie said a little dreamily.
“Girl, stop.” Golden closed her eyes and waved her sister off. “Beautiful green eyes, really? I can’t with you.”
“It’s not like that. He helped me when I dropped a bottle.”
Golden’s teasing voice eased. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ronnie waved it off. “There was this sharp pain in my head. I thought I was about to have one of my migraines, then it went away.”
“Oh, shit. That would be the worst. You know Dickwad over there is looking for a reason not to pay you.” She tilted her head to smile at the aforementioned Dickwad - their boss. “Thank God for tips.”
Ronnie grabbed a few different bottles of alcohol and poured the liquid into a shot glass, then dropped two servings of each alcohol into a silver shaker and gave it three good shakes. Poured the contents over ice and added a cherry. “Give him this.”
“Shouldn’t that be a lemon?” Golden pointed toward the small red fruit.
“He didn’t look like a lemon kinda guy. Anyway, just give it to him,” Ronnie said before helping a Paul Bunyan-sized man who just stepped to the bar.
Ronnie didn’t know why she put the cherry in the drink. It just felt right, if that made any sense. Now she almost felt embarrassed for sending a complete stranger a drink. The fine nuances of how to flirt missed her in high school and college. No one was ever interested in the tall, lanky bookworm with no boobs and glasses. With a little time in the gym, lasik, and a great push-up bra, she turned out all right.
Her sister took the Long Island Iced Tea to him. Along the way, a group of loud obnoxious guys grabbed her, causing her to spill a little of the drink. Ronnie moved toward the end of the bar, about to leave.
“Hey,” Dickwad yelled from behind her.
Ronnie rolled her eyes and turned back. “What?”
“Check the beer lines.” He pulled the beer tap. Nothing came out.
Ronnie looked out towards her sister, who had gotten away from the pack of men.
“Now!”
Ronnie rolled her eyes, then hit the swinging door to the back room.
Chapter Ninety-Nine
Oz watched as Ronnie disappeared behind the swinging door. He sipped his favorite drink. Even if Ronnie couldn’t read his mind, she already knew something about him that most people didn't know. He hated the tartness of lemons and limes. She sent him his favorite drink with a cherry, instead of the normal lemon. It seemed like a small thing, but to him, it was huge.
The waitress’ light fruity smell had been increasing since she brought him the drink. The shifter crowd had become overtly aware of her. A few noses lifted into the air to inhale as she walked past.
Why was the little waitress working in this condition? If she were raised with Ronnie and thought she was human, then she may not realize what was happening to her. Nor why the men were reacting to her this way.
“Let go!” The waitress tried, unsuccessfully, to snatch her arm away from an obnoxious lion shifter. The same one who had been grabbing at her all night.
Beer sloshed over her white t-shirt and the table roared with laughter.
“Take it easy, Kitten.” He pulled her into his lap. “We just havin’ a lil’ fun.”
The girl poured the rest of the pitcher of beer over his head, then jumped from his lap. “My name’s not Kitten!”
Oz didn’t move, he watched as the feisty girl’s shoulders shook whether from a chill or rage back toward the bar. He was leaning more toward rage. He liked the little sister; even not knowing who or what those guys were, she stood up to them. It told him something about what kind of women Ronnie and her sister were. Strong and fierce.
That little altercation cost the young girl something. Her scent flowed over the bar like an orange blossom tree
