Heavy Metal Sunshine Blues
I was at the bar, bouncing in place to the music at Johnny’s Hole—my favorite club—when a hand touched me lightly on the shoulder.
“Buy you a drink?”
I turned and smiled at the stranger standing next to me. “You can buy me anything you want, hon!”
The stranger laughed. “I bet.” He held out a hand. “Noah Stiles.”
I shook it. “Sonny Bonhomie.”
“Does that mean you’re happy all the time?”
I smiled. “So I’ve been told.”
Noah gestured to the closest bartender. “Heineken and…” He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Guinness, please.”
The bartender nodded and moved away to fill our orders.
“So you’re here a lot, I’ve noticed,” Noah said as his light brown gaze raked me over from head to toe.
He was a tasty specimen, at least six inches taller and thick with muscles. I
