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Hunters passed in and out of The Roadhouse, odd types and being with their own agendas. Jo learned at a young age that not all of them could be trusted. But you could still find an interesting drinking buddy with little effort.
The specimen tonight was a mystery, even after hours of talking. Every question evaded with a smirk, every drink matched with ease.
“You could have had your pick of the bar tonight and you’ve spent the night with the bartender. Why me?”
That smile made Jo feel like a mouse in a trap. “I want you. Only you.”