Later that evening Holly went up to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila. “Want a shot?”
“I don’t really drink.” Colt sat down on the barstool, resting his back against the bar. “Why do you like these dive bars?”
She shrugged. “It’s my type of people.”
“Bikers and thugs.” He rolled his eyes as he watched her.
She took her shot. “Exactly. Regular folk.”
“So… you like Motorhead?” Pointing at her shirt.
“Yep, one of my favorite bands. You?”
“Same. Few girls like them.” Colt looked her over, trying to not seem obvious he was checking her out.
Colt watched her sway to the song that was playing from the sound system. Every man in the bar had been watching her since she walked in the door. Some part of the other men gawking at her, Colt didn’t like. He felt himself staring down a few men
