And by those standards, I was also starting to become a pretty big slut.“I feel like I should be calling ‘Here, Tatum Jackson’ and then making all sorts of kissy noises like I’m calling a dog walking into a place like this.”It wasn’t a biker bar, but it had that same feel. Rustic and barebones, and filled to the hilt with all of its regulars. I could only hope they would be welcoming of us as outsiders.“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” Allison stated blandly.Yeah, I didn’t think so either. If only it were that easy.Careful not to touch anyone or look at anyone too closely, we made our way through the crowd. Attention wasn’t something we wanted...yet. We needed time to have a drink and mentally prepare.We both took up spots at the bar, parking our butts on the empty stools we found. Visually, we were ready, looking casual but sexy and ready for anything.At least, that’s what I was telling myself.I had on some denim cutoffs with my favorite cowgirl boots, and a figure-hugging lavender tank top that boasted a scoop neck.
