Hammered with You: Book 2 (Ross Brother's Trilogy) Read online

  Hammered with You

  The Ross Brothers Trilogy

  Book 2

  Nikki Mays

  Published by Nikki Mays

  Cover Design: Tracie Douglas @ Dark Water Covers

  Cover Model: Brandon Schlaegel

  Photographer: Golden Czermak @ FuriousFotog

  Editing: Golden Life Publishing

  Formatting: Evenstar Books Design Services

  Text Copyright © 2020 Nikki Mays

  All Rights Reserved

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Laws and Treaties. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain noncommercial uses permitted by copyright laws. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Disclaimer: This book is intended for mature audiences only. It contains adult language and explicit scenes. Not intended for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised.

  Chapter 1

  Jessie

  Is there anything worse than watching your best friend fail miserably at talking to the guy that she likes? Why yes there absolutely is. It’s watching her getting asked out by a sexy as hell man and her basically trying her best to screw it all up and talk him out of it.

  I slapped my hand against my forehead. Good Lord, I know that Kellie is out of practice lately, but shit, she can’t be this out of practice. I think as I watch her.

  “Me being a mom, means that I’m boring and don’t go out a lot.” I hear my best friend and boss say to Mason from across the room.

  For the love of all that’s freaking holy!

  I look at Doris Smith, the chief of police’s wife and my very frequent customer, in the mirror with wide eyes.

  “I’ll be right back.” I say putting down the brush I was using.

  She purses her lips and raises an eyebrow. “Yes, please go on and help her out. This is getting painful to watch.”

  I smile as I walk to the front counter. I swear it’s something with women whose names start with the letter D. They are as awesome and in your business as they come. Naturally, her and Dee are two of my all time favorite customers.

  Continuing to the counter to interrupt, I swipe my hand in front of their faces.

  “She would love to go out with you on Friday night Mason.” I give Kellie a glare out of the corner of my eye. “She’s just out of practice on how to respond correctly when being asked out on a date.”

  I give her a helpful shove since slapping her would be bad in front of all of our customers. Although, after watching this, I’m sure a few of them would look the other way.

  Finally, she comes to her damn senses and agrees. She actually manages not to act like a spaz for a few seconds until Mason leaves. She plops down in the chair with a scared look on her face.

  “Oh shoot. I have a date, with Mason.” She sputters adorably.

  “You’re welcome.” I say in a sing song voice before turning on my heel and walking back to my chair.

  Doris is smirking at me through the mirror. “Thank God. She already shot that poor boy in the ass. Turning him down for a date would’ve just been cruel.”

  I can’t help the loud laugh that escapes my lips. “Who knows,” I say as I pick up my brush and blow dryer, “maybe that shot in the ass will act like cupid’s arrow or something.” I turn the blow dryer on and get to work.

  A few hours later and the shop is finally closed. Kellie already left, since it’s my turn to close up and I know she’s probably still freaking out about her date with Mason.

  I click the lock in place and get down to closing everything up.

  About a year ago, I made Kellie agree to let me close up a few nights a week. If I didn’t, she would literally never leave. That woman works herself to the damn bone.

  Don’t get me wrong, her work ethic is amazing. But she was running herself ragged between here and Ella. I’m not dating anyone and don’t have any family to speak of, so it just makes sense. She has a life to get home to, where I only have my sweet puppy, Dragon, to get home to.

  I finish locking up and check my phone. There’s a message telling me that my date is going to be late.

  I signed up for a dating site a few months back. I’ve gone on a few dates but haven’t had too much luck. Either they’re a complete asshole or still live at home with their mothers.

  Maybe I should change the age range that I’m looking for to over thirty or forty. At least they would hopefully have a job and live on their own.

  How sad is that? That I’ve lowered my standards so much that those are my only requirements. God dating sucks.

  In fact the whole concept pretty much sucks. Hey, go out with a total stranger and pray that they aren’t some sick serial killer or something. And then you have to be on your best behavior so that you get them to like you. It’s all just so exhausting.

  Is it too much to ask to have my perfect guy fall into my lap, while I’m on my couch, in pajamas and watching Netflix? I mean sure, that’s a long shot, but I’m still secretly holding out hope.

  All this going out and meeting up with random, strange men, is just fucking exhausting. I’m only twenty-five and I’m already so over the whole bar and club scene. It’s loud, people are bumping into you and you get watered down drinks.

  I think all of this, even as I fix my hair and makeup to go meet up with yet another guy, at yet another bar. Seriously cupid? Can I get a nail gun or a hammer maybe? Just something to slow him down and fall for my couch potato ass.

  Luckily, thanks to living in a small town, the bar is only a short walk from the shop. I took an uber to work today, knowing that either the date will go badly and I’ll imbibe a decent amount of alcohol. Or it will go well and I still won’t want some guy that I’ve just met to know my license plate number.

  Okay, that sounds paranoid as hell, but screw it. I’m a horror movie girl all the way. I have watched too many messed up scenarios to be anything but paranoid when it comes to anyone that I don’t know. Even teenage girls aren’t free from suspicion. Ever hear of a movie called The Strangers?

  I look longingly at Home Plate as I walk past. That’s the bar that I would normally go to. It has a more dive bar feel to it. I like the fact that I blend in more in a place like that, then the bar that my date chose.

  I love how I dress and look, but I understand that it isn’t for everyone. A lot of places don’t like people who are all tatted up and pierced to be hanging around. Trust me, I get enough snarky comments from people, that I try to stick to places that I would be welcome.

  This bar that I’m going to right now? Yeah, not so much. It’s more of an uppity place that people in business suits frequent. My mind began to ponder as I walked. It wasn’t that I had a problem with people who worked in offices, I just knew from experience that the environment wasn’t for me.

  I liked to stand out since it was something that I wasn’t allowed to do when I was younger. Experimenting with my hair and tatts was one of the ways I chose to express myself. Offices were boring and to me boring was a death sentence.

  Ideally, I’d love to own my own salon one day. I’ve always wanted to be my own boss. I don’t like the thought that someone can take everything away from me. I want that security to know that it’s al
l mine.

  After my childhood, or lack thereof, being financially secure is one of the most important things in my life.

  Although, come to think of it, after my childhood, I should probably stop trying to date and stay single forever. Marriage didn’t really work out too well for my parents, if you even want to call them that. If they taught me anything, it’s how someone else can make you completely miserable, so that you become an angry, abusive... and I’m just going to stop those thoughts right there.

  I stop and take a second to take a deep breath. I blink a few times to stop the progression of the tears that I won’t allow. Those people got enough of my tears as a child. I refuse to let them have anymore.

  I take a few more calming breaths and force myself to think about happy thoughts. Mainly what drink I’m going to try and what my next tattoo should be.

  Once I’m feeling better, I finish my walk towards the bar. It just opened up about two months ago. Truthfully, I’ve never once had an urge to come here. Some of our customers have been here. And the ones who really liked it, are not the type of people that I would normally associate with.

  But what the hell. Life is all about new experiences and all of that other happy bullshit that people tell themselves.

  Hopefully, the drinks are strong and my date isn’t a complete asshole. I think to myself as I open the door and walk into the pretentious looking place.

  Forty-seven minutes later:

  Well, at least the drinks are strong. Or our waitress has overheard what a jackass Gerald here seems to be, and is having the bartender make them extra strong.

  I really should’ve just cancelled and went home to binge Lucifer. But no, here I am listening to this jerk drone on and on about himself. While still managing to make some disparaging remarks about my appearance.

  I’m pretty sure that Gerald peaked in college. I grew up around guys like him. The ones who looked down on everyone else because of what they wore and how they looked. Why he even thought it was a good idea to set up this date if he doesn’t like my appearance is beyond me.

  All I know is, I’m finishing this drink and getting the hell out of here. Maybe I’ll even have my uber driver stop at the liquor store so that I can buy a bottle of wine. I have a feeling that I’m going to need it to forget about this disaster.

  I take another long sip from my margarita on the rocks. I figured that I couldn’t go wrong with tequila.

  Gerald wrinkles his nose at me. “Do you always drink so fast? It’s not very ladylike.”

  Yes, because he seems to think that it’s 1950 and that my main goal in life is to be a good little lady. “Only when I want to get going.” I drawl.

  He blinks a few times before giving me a smirk. “Good, me too. I don’t really want to stay here any longer.”

  Well at least we finally agree on something. This was a total waste of time. “Great,” I give him a smile that I’m sure is more of a grimace than anything. “Glad that we agree on that.”

  Almost done with my drink I raise the glass to drain the remaining contents as the next words tumble from his mouth “Should we go to your place or mine?” He looks me over with a slight sneer. “I would prefer mine, no offense.” He says with a smarmy smile that makes my skin crawl.

  The liquid that I have just swallowed becomes trapped in my throat as I choke. My eyes burn as I struggle to force it down. Taking a deep breath I wipe the moisture from my eyes, hoping that I’ve heard him wrong. “What are you talking about?” There’s a burning sensation in my chest that I try to rub away.

  “You said that you didn’t want to stay here any longer. I agree. We might as well just get down to it.” He looks down at his stupidly expensive watch. “I have to be up early for work tomorrow.”

  “And what would we be getting down to?” I ask but I already have a feeling what he’s implying.

  “That there is no point in continuing any conversation. We both know what this,” he motions between the two of us, “was all about. A girl like you obviously knows the score.”

  I can feel my cheeks heating and I doubt that it’s from the alcohol. “A girl like me?” I say slowly.

  He rolls his eyes at me. “Don’t pretend to be offended. I mean look at you.” He gestures in my general direction. “Between your outfit, tattoos and piercings, you obviously like having a lot of fun.”

  The burning in my chest has subsided ,but I can feel the bile climbing up my throat. Standing from my chair I pin him with a look, “Yeah, no that won’t be happening. All I came out was for a few drinks, that’s it.” I tell him firmly. The displeasure on his face is obvious.

  People never cease to amaze me. Because I like looking a certain way, that automatically makes me a whore. Never mind that I’ve only been with three men in my entire life and that they were all serious relationships. Nope, I’m just automatically a whore because I love to wear whatever the hell I want. I can’t stop my mind from flashing back as I hear my father’s voice in my head.

  “You’ll be a good for nothin’ slut, just like your mother.” I can’t even recall the amount of times that he would get drunk and start yelling things like that at me.

  I blink back tears for a second time tonight because of that man. Well, not solely because of him at the moment, but still.

  His eyebrows shoot up to his hair line. “You seriously thought that someone like me would ever lower my standards enough to date someone like you?” He scoffs.

  “But you had no issues with sex, right?” I growl out at him. My hands curl into tight fists at my side as I try to control my anger. The nerve of him.

  He gives me a smug grin and lifts one shoulder. “Trashy girls like you are a lot of fun in bed. But that’s about all that you’re good for. Men like me don’t marry chicks like you. We play with you until we’re bored.”

  His words momentarily stun me to the point that all I can do is stare in horror. People have said a lot of mean shit to me over the years but this takes the cake. I try to force my mouth to move but nothing comes out.

  “I think that it’s time for you to leave.” A rough, masculine voice says from directly behind me.

  Surprised and a little embarrassed I don’t turn around but I can feel the heat from his body on my back. I squeeze my eyes shut as humiliation begins to flow through me. He obviously heard everything that Gerald just said to me.

  At the sound of Gerald slamming his drink down they snap open.

  The expression on his face is an unmistakable mixture of fear and anger. “I was already planning on it. But a word to the wise man, she may look like fun but she’s nothing but a cock tease. Even with liquor this one doesn’t put out.” Without another word he gives me a dismissing look, turns and walks out of the bar.

  My eyes burn holes in his back as I realize he hasn’t paid for his drink.

  Jerk.

  Still too embarrassed and shocked to confront the person that has saved me I pretend to mop up the beer that spilled from Gerald’s drink on the table.

  I’m half relieved when I feel him step away but the relief doesn’t last long as he walks around and takes Gerald’s recently vacated seat.My hands still as our eyes connect. And again I’m rendered speechless.

  He has to be the most gorgeous male specimen that I have ever seen. I can feel my eyes widen when I get a good look at him. I can feel saliva pooling in my mouth.

  The man sitting in front of me has the purest blue eyes that I have ever seen. Dark brown hair that is immaculately trimmed, and an even tidier beard, that frames two lusciously plump pink lips. His square jaw just rounds out his all around masculine look.

  I look down further and see a blue dress shirt that looks like it might split at the seams. And part of me is really hoping that it does. He has a few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up his forearms.

  And I blush even harder when I realize that I haven’t said anything. I’ve just been gawking at the poor guy. A guy who’s picture that I’ve seen before, in the hands of Dee
Ross, when she was showing me a picture of three of her sons.

  Well... shit I say to myself

  “Are you okay Jessie?” His deep voice is soft and gentle. His sky blue eyes have nothing but kindness shining in them.

  I nod my head. “Yeah, I’m f...” Wait just a damn minute. I narrow my eyes at my savior/potential stalker serial killer. “How do you know my name?”

  His lips twitch. “My mother has been talking about getting a tattoo. She showed us a picture of you when we told her that she doesn’t know the first thing about tattoos. She said that she found her own guru.” He chuckles.

  I can’t help the smile that comes over my face as I recalled that day. “I thought that your mom only said that she wanted a tattoo because this one client was being rude about all of mine.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “People are rude to you at work? Why would they go to you if they don’t like you?” He leans forward and gives me his full attention.

  I shrug. It’s something that I have yet to figure out. “She was Katie’s client. She actually hates me and Kellie.”

  He blinks a few times as if surprised. “She hates the owner of the place that she goes to get her hair done?” There’s a hint of incredulousness in his voice.

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, she’s a teacher that hates even Ella. I swear that chick is just a miserable bitch.”

  He shakes his head and gives me an extremely sexy smirk that makes me sure that I’ll need to change my panties soon. “I don’t think that we’ve been properly introduced.” He holds out a large hand to me. “I’m Ben Ross,” he says with a devastating smile.

  I place my small hand in his. My eyes widen slightly at the feel of his warm and calloused skin against mine. Finally I pry my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Jessie.” I clear my throat. “Jessica Collins, but everyone calls me Jessie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” He holds onto my hand and stares into my eyes.

  I don’t really get flustered around good looking men. But having his piercing blues eyes staring at me is a little unnerving.