Shots. Of Patron. Four shots in, the bar began to fill. The cops were back, and as each one walked past her they gave her an appreciative glance. But not one of them stopped. Did she have an anthrax warning sign stamped on her forehead? Was her pathetic need for attention that obvious? She sank into her chair. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl, no matter how good last night was before Evan dropped his bomb. Coming down here and drinking was a bad idea. She should stop right now and go back to her room. She had an early afternoon flight back to San Francisco the next day and had yet to pack. “I thought you were done with men?” a familiar deep voice asked beside her. Katy’s heart rate quickened and her womb tightened. Yeah, well, her head might be over men but her body obviously wasn’t. She looked up into two of the sexiest eyes she had ever seen and shrugged. “I am, I was just thirsty.”
