Undeniably Theirs (Undeniable #3)By: Ramona Gray
Two is always better than one...
Chloe Matthew’s fresh start recipe:
Step one: new job at Dawson Clothing—check
Step two: stop worrying about sister—easier said than done.
Step three: find nice safe guy and fall in love—too bad Chloe can’t one-click buy that.
Except tossing a complete stranger into the mix, banging him like a screen door, and having the best sex of her life could make her life’s recipe fall flat. And that whole sneaking out before the hot stranger wakes up? Not her finest moment.
But new co-worker, Jackson Black, is just what she’s looking for. Handsome. Reliable. Wicked sense of humour. Sleeping with a co-worker has never been so tempting.
Only, Jackson is more than a splash of vanilla. He shares everything with his best friend, Ian—including women.
Will Jackson’s desires tear apart Chloe’s vision of the perfect life? Or can they make something even better since the sexy-as-sin, Ian Aldrin, is the stranger she spent one deliciously dirty night with?
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Chloe stared at the amber liquid. She normally avoided liquor of any kind, afraid she had the mutated gene or weakness or whatever the hell it was that ran in their family. Becoming like Lori or her mother was a low-grade fear in the pit of her stomach that never really went away.
Tonight, she deserved a goddamn drink. One drink didn’t make her a damn drunk. She had stopped at the first bar she came across. That this bar was attached to a hotel made no difference to her.
Her grandmother didn’t live right in the Badlands. But she was close enough to its outskirts that a place like this, only ten minutes from her grandma’s home, was on the seedier side. No doubt her sister frequented this place on a regular basis.
It was confirmed when a man slid onto the stool next to her and placed his hand on her leg. “Hey, Lori, you looking to make some extra cash tonight? I can get us a room upstairs and -”
She pushed his hand off her leg as he squinted at her. “Sorry, you ain’t who I thought you was.”
He hopped off the stool and nearly fell on his ass before catching himself on the edge of the bar. Straightening his ratty coat around him, he gave her an oddly dignified bow before staggering away.
She returned to her drink. Lifted the cheap glass. Studied the cheap bourbon in the dim light.
It burned her throat and made her eyes water. She coughed, wiped her mouth and coughed again before setting the glass down.
There was movement to her right. The bartender – an overweight blonde with mileage on her face and a smoker’s cough – appeared almost immediately. She purposely didn’t look, purposely ignored the little shiver that went down her back at the surprisingly deep, surprisingly sober sounding voice of the man who sat beside her.
“I’ll take a whiskey and another of whatever my friend is having.”
“No.” Chloe lifted her head and stared at the bartender. “I don’t want another drink. You have me mistaken for someone else. I’m not Lori, and I’m not gonna blow you for a goddamn drink.”
There was silence beside her. The bartender’s overgrown eyebrows were raised in astonishment. She gave Chloe a girl-you-are-a-fucking-idiot look before smiling at the man.
“One whiskey, coming right up, sweetheart. I’ll get you the good stuff.”
Another little shiver. God, his voice was insanely deep. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to take one quick glance at the man who was probably one of many men in this bar who had fucked Lori for a handful of drinks and a carton of cigarettes.
She turned her head, peeked, and froze.
Holy shit. He was beautiful.
Dark hair, dark eyes, sexy stubble, beautiful.
She looked him up and down without a speck of shame. When one stumbled upon a god in broad daylight – well, dim bar light – one did not just simply look away. He was dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with dark boots. The jacket stretched across his broad shoulders and the jeans hugged his thick thighs. Her core tightened at the sizeable bulge at his crotch.