Mark of an Alpha's Mate
With an eye roll, I shook my head at this man, ready to tell him to shut the fuck up, that it was only till Michael came back then we'd be gone because we were leaving tomorrow anyway.
Maybe I should have just stayed back like José.
But the wolfish smile on Jackson’s face made me spin on my stool... out of curiosity of course. And there in the middle of the bar, is a lone girl who’d made the floor her personal dance club.
I couldn’t help but stare. Dancing along to the croon of George Strait, she had no rhythm. She was clapping off the beat, but still, she was shaking her hips, swinging her long brown hair, and laughing like a gorgeous, dancing wild thing.
Bab Populer