Ginger’s boyfriend had been considerate enough to dump her over the summer, which meant that she had a couple of weeks free before she had to teach summer school.
Unfortunately, on her grade school teacher’s salary, she didn’t have the money to go on a round the world trip or a swinging singles cruise. Instead, she’d settled for tagging along with her room-mate Marigold to Blue Moon County, Florida, where Marigold’s 89-year-old aunt ran a boarding house. They were getting free room and board in exchange for doing chores.
“And if you like him so much, why don’t you sleep with him?” Ginger groused.
“Nahh, I’m going to have sex with the bartender. We’ve been fondling each other with our eyes all night.” Marigold looked at the bartender and winked. He winked back. He was a muscular, handsome werewolf with big arms covered with colorful tattoos, a tight t-shirt and a gold ring in one ear.
What was really going to happen was that Marigold was going to flirt outrageously, then wimp out and flee without closing the deal, but Ginger didn’t bother to correct her.
Marigold, unfortunately, was a love psychic. It was kind of like a curse. She would flirt with a guy, then peer into the future to see how their relationship would play out…and then it wasn’t any fun to follow through with it. She also had the ability to predict the outcome for other people, which is what she did for a living in New York – but she refrained from doing it for her friends.
The music slowed, and suddenly Marigold nudged Ginger so hard that Ginger almost spilled her beer. The sheriff was standing at the bar again, but this time he was staring in the direction of Ginger, Winifred and Marigold.
A slow smile curled his lips. He set his drink down on the bar and wiped his hands on his jeans, and he began pushing his way through the crowd towards them.
Ginger’s heartbeat sped up with alarm and she quickly dropped her gaze. What a player, she thought indignantly. He was going to come ask Marigold to dance with him after he’d just rubbed up against half the female population of Blue Moon Junction. If Marigold ended up going home with him, she’d end up just another notch on his leather belt.
Marigold deserved better than that. Sure, she came off as flighty and frivolous, but she was a fiercely loyal friend and deep down, her whole flirty femme fatale act was just a cover up for her insecurity.
Ginger half-watched him making his way through the crowd, while pretending not to look. He moved with a slow, rolling sensuality and perfect self-confidence, and people parted before him like waves in the wake of a mighty ocean liner. Women stared at him adoringly. Men watched with admiration and envy. As he reached their table, his gaze swept the women from head to toe, and a sensual, self-assured smile curled his lips. His eyes gleamed, and he glanced at Marigold, before his gaze slowly drifted to Ginger.
Unfortunately, his proximity had a strange physical effect on Ginger, one she’d never experienced before, even in the company of the best-looking of men. It was like someone had flipped on a switch to all the erogenous zones in her body and sent lightning bolts sizzling down her neural pathways. Also, her no-no parts tingled and went damp.
She squeezed her thighs together hard and tried to look away, but his golden-brown eyes were strangely hypnotic and she sat there staring at him helplessly, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
“Dance with me,” he commanded, holding his hand out to her to help her from her seat.
What?
Dance with me? He’d actually just ordered her to dance with him? He’d come over to the corner of the room to graciously grant the chubby girl a pity dance, and he couldn’t even ask, he just commanded? Of course he did, because what were the odds that a wall-flower like Ginger would ever say no?
Pretty damned good, as it turned out.
“Excuse me? No!” she spluttered.
Marigold choked on a French fry. Winifred turned to stare at her with avid interest. The waitress dropped her tray and half a dozen drinks crashed to the floor, but she made no move to pick them up, standing and staring at Ginger in astonishment.
Ginger suddenly realized that the music had paused and the entire bar was staring at her. It was like a scene out of a movie. And she had always loathed the spotlight.
The sheriff’s jaw was hanging open and his eyes were wide with surprise.
“I’m sorry…what did you say?” he asked.
“Are you heard of hearing? I said…No!” she said indignantly. “No, I will not dance with you.”
She quickly climbed to her feet, fished in her purse, and threw a twenty dollar bill on the table to cover their tab.