He watched her wiggle her nose again and
realized Callie’s perfume was bothering her, too. He had to keep
the windows cracked during the drive, so he could breathe. But
having it bother Sunny made it even more annoying. “She’s not my
girlfriend.”
A delicate blond eyebrow arched, and a
sparkle lit her pewter eyes. “Does she know that?”
He laughed and took a sip of beer. “Yeah, but
it doesn't keep her from trying.” And wasn't that the
understatement of the century?
Rumblings from the end of the bar distracted
Sunny, and she cringed while cursing under her breath. The two
weathered salts, probably in their mid-seventies, sat on the stools
at the end of the bar, wearing identical expressions.
Sunny narrowed her eyes and glared—a
universal sign all men knew meant
keep your damned mouth
shut
. But based on their wicked grins and wily eyes, they
weren't the least bit threatened by Sunny's death-glare.
The one on the left, who reminded Gavin of
his grandfather, said, “I've been hittin' on you for years, and
you've never flirted with me. Why not?”
Color flooded Sunny's cheeks, but she
straightened her spine, tossed the empty sucker stick into the
trashcan, and propped her hands on her hips. “Your wife would kick
both of our asses. Miss Jane may only be five feet tall, but I've
seen her ten feet of mad.”
Gavin bit the inside of his cheek to keep
from laughing. Sunny didn't seem to be much over five feet herself.
But he'd bet, with enough provocation, she could reach ten feet of
mad, too.
“Remember last year when you forgot her
birthday? The way she came in here and yanked you out by your ear…”
Sunny shook her head in dramatic fashion. “Uh-uh, I don't ever want
to be on her bad side.”
The man on the right adjusted his ball cap
and stared at his beer while his shoulders shook with laughter.
In contrast, Miss Jane’s husband’s shoulders
slumped and his face sagged.
Sunny mumbled something under her breath that
sounded like, “Sensitive old coot,” before taking a few steps
toward him. She cocked her head to the side, batted her eyelashes,
and said, “I don't care how hot you are, Ed. It's not worth being
on the wrong side of Miss Jane.”
Ed turned to the other man. “Wouldn’t ya
think after forty years of marriage a man could get a year off for
good behavior?”
The other man sipped his beer and nodded.
“Sounds reasonable to me.”
Ed nodded and looked serious. “I think so,
too.”
Gavin rested his forearms on the bar and
smiled. He liked this place. Without Callie and the bubble-headed
bleach blondes, he could have a good time sitting here, drinking
beer, listening to the locals give each other shit. And, of course,
there was Sunny. He could sit here and watch her all night.
He jerked upright as a ridiculous idea beat
at the back of his brain. “How late do you work?”
She wiped a towel across the top of the bar,
then dropped it into a bucket of soapy water. “As late as folks
stay.”
He glanced at his watch.
Eight
o’clock.
“How late is that, normally?”
She shrugged. “It varies. On a weeknight,
it’s usually around eleven. Weekends can be as late as two. It
depends on the season and how much fun everyone’s having.”
He twisted his head and peered over his
shoulder. The girls were about halfway through the pitcher. Another
ten minutes and they’d be finished. If he left now, he could take
them home and be back in two hours.
He shook his head. What a crazy, ridiculous,
impulsive, teenage kind of thing to do. “Do you think you’ll be
here until eleven tonight?”
Sunny’s gaze settled on the pool table where
two young couples were playing. The guys seemed serious about the
game; the girls were picking at their fingernail polish, talking.
“I’ll be here until eleven fifteen.”
His eyebrows drew together. How could she be
so certain of the exact time?
Reading his unasked question, she said,
“Those kids come in here two nights a week. Every week. They have
to be home by eleven, but they live right down the road, so they
don’t leave until ten forty-five. By the time I get everything
wrapped up, it’ll be eleven fifteen.”
A lot of years had passed since he’d done
anything this impulsive, and a sliver of excitement raced down his
spine and shot him in the ass. “Can you close out my tab for
me?”
His abrupt exit seemed to confuse her, and
the smile slipped off her face. “Uh, sure.”
He wondered if his departure disappointed her
for personal reasons, or because of the loss of business. He hoped
for the first and, without thinking, reached across the bar and
grabbed her hand.
She glanced down and sucked in a sharp
breath.
Afraid he’d frightened her, he let go and
eased away from her. “I’m going to take them home and then come
back.”
Her brows dipped and she stared at the bar,
deep in thought. Glancing up, she said, “I thought you lived in
Myrtle Beach.”
He grinned and winked. “I do.”
Driving across the bridge into Anticue, he
wasn’t sure how he’d feel about being back here again. But after
being here this short length of time, he was more relaxed than he’d
been in a long time. Doing something crazy for a change made him
feel alive, and the compulsion to come back alone was too strong to
ignore.
He signed the receipt for his tab and said,
“I’ll be back in two hours.”
***
“I’ve got twenty that says he’ll be back,”
said Ed, as he tossed the money onto the bar.
Joe reached into his wallet, then paused.
“Back tonight, or another night?”
“Tonight.”
Joe threw a twenty on top of Ed’s. “You’re
on. I say he’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Robby pulled two tens out of Sunny’s tip jar
and added them to the pile.
Before he could state his bet, Sunny snatched
the tens off the pile and jammed them into the back pocket of her
jeans. “I knew you were tapping into my tips.”
He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “Only in
emergencies.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass.
“
This
is not an emergency.” She poured herself a Pepsi, then
closed her eyes and conjured up a cigarette in her mind. Since
quitting a month ago, she’d gone through a million Dum-Dums, and
still, the nicotine cravings weren’t easing.
Especially when stressed, which was most of
the time. Right now, she was light-headed from the tension.
She wasn’t sure what to think about Gavin
coming back. She knew she’d read his signals right—he was
definitely interested—and her inexperience at playing sexual games
added to the anxiety squeezing her chest. She felt like an awkward
teenager who wanted the captain of the football team to ask her out
and an amateur player who could easily get in over her head.
Thinking about him coming back, and not knowing what to do with him
if he did, made her heart stutter, and a wave of nervous
anticipation washed through her.
The cigarette she’d fabricated in her mind
evaporated and was replaced by his smoldering stare. Remembering
the way he’d admired her necklace made her stomach clench and her
nipples harden. The clips attached to them tightened, and a
delightfully painful sensation shot from her breasts to her sex and
beyond.
She hadn’t had sex in years, and she wasn’t
sure she could handle a man like Gavin. The prospect of finding out
made the nervous excitement turn to a rush of nausea.
“I think he’ll be back this weekend, but I’m
not happy about it.” Robby’s uncharacteristically serious tone had
Sunny’s eyes peeling open. He stood in front of her, arms crossed,
eyes narrowed.
“Why?” She wasn’t going to live her life
based on her brother’s wants and needs forever, but she respected
his opinion. She was curious why Gavin made Robby’s light-hearted
personality disappear and his hostile side emerge.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “He was
definitely into you. But what about those women? Why did he bring
them here and then act like a total jerk toward them? And why was
he in Anticue in the first place? Surely he didn’t drive all the
way up here from Myrtle Beach just to have a drink.”
Sunny grabbed another Dum-Dum from her stash
under the counter. Unwrapping it, she sighed and sank back against
the lacquered wood. “I don’t know. I had a lot of the same
questions, but…” She diverted her gaze and worked the sucker around
in her mouth. Something was niggling at the back of her mind;
something he’d said had bothered her, but she couldn’t remember
what it was.
“But what?”
She glanced at Robby, but found herself
unable to meet his gaze head on. “I liked him.”
From her peripheral vision, she saw Robby’s
mouth drop open. If he’d made that statement, she’d have laughed it
off and told him it was his hormones talking.
The same could be said for her in this
instance, but she was usually a good judge of character, and her
instincts told her Gavin was okay. However, what she wanted didn’t
matter.
She pulled the tens out of her pocket and
added them to the pile. “I say he won’t be back. At all. It sounded
like a good idea at the time, but once he gets halfway to Myrtle
Beach, he’ll come to his senses and change his mind.”
The clock on the dashboard read ten fifteen
as Gavin turned off Highway 17 onto the causeway leading to
Anticue. “I’ve lost my damned mind,” he muttered with a laugh and a
shake of his head.
While driving back from Myrtle Beach with the
windows down, the sunroof open, and the stereo cranked full
throttle, he decided he liked the temporary insanity. It had been a
long time since he’d felt this free. It had been even longer since
he’d done something irrational.
Since going to work for Holden Enterprises
his senior year of college, he’d operated with one purpose in mind:
career advancement. He hadn’t taken a vacation in years. Hell, most
of the time, he didn’t even take time off in the evenings. And he
couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date.
So what about Anticue made him break
form?
Maybe it was the fond memories of being here
as a kid with his granddad. Or the cheerful, whimsical atmosphere
of the bar. Or, as was more likely the case, the sexy bartender and
her crazy cast of characters.
Whatever prompted his actions, he liked the
feeling. He was damned glad he’d acted on the impulse to take
Callie and her friends home, and he was looking forward to enjoying
what little bit of the evening was left.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he
inventoried the remaining cars: an old beat-up Honda Civic, an
equally decrepit Ford Ranger pickup, three newer model trucks, and
several cars. All the same as when he’d left, except… His eyes
narrowed as he stared at a motorcycle parked near the door.
An uncomfortable chill settled into his chest
as he headed toward the entrance. Because of the way Sunny had
flirted, he hadn’t considered the possibility of her having a
boyfriend. Until now.
He pushed his hands through his hair and blew
out a harsh breath. If he walked in and found Sunny with biker guy,
he’d shrug it off and get back to his original purpose for being
here: assessing the bar. He’d take his time looking around at the
pieces on display and get the names of the artists.
Contingency plan in place, he pushed the door
open and stepped inside. A whoosh of relief left his lungs when he
saw biker-man relaxing in an Adirondack chair with a sweet-looking
redhead curled up on his lap. The two old salts were still at the
bar; the kids were playing pool.
All eyes turned toward the door, and Ed let
out a whoop and grabbed a pile of money off the bar. Joe shook his
head and tipped his bottle to Ed in salute, while Sunny stood
statue still, eyes wide, jaw sagging.
He settled onto the same barstool he’d used
earlier and smiled. “Let me guess… There was a bet on whether or
not I’d be back.”
She bit her lip and flushed. “Yeah.”
“What did you bet?”
She wiped off the bar—something he figured
she did when nervous—and said, “I didn’t think you’d be back.”
“Tonight? Or ever?”
She flicked her gaze to his, then glanced
away. “Ever.”
“And… In your estimation, was that a good
thing?”
Her silver gaze, filled with a ton of
uncertainty, met his. “I’m not sure.” She reached into the cooler,
grabbed a Bud, and popped the top. Sliding it across the bar, she
said, “That one’s on the house.”
“Thanks.” He took a drink and watched Sunny
do her wipe-and-swipe thing on the bar.
She seemed more nervous and less confident
than earlier, and he realized she probably viewed his return as
bold and aggressive, like he was counting on banging her on the bar
before the night was over.
God knows, he couldn’t imagine a better way
for the evening to end than in a wild, sexual frenzy. But his crazy
actions had been more about self-discovery than learning Sunny’s
curves and what made her hot.
Hoping to explain his crazy actions and get
her back into a playful, flirtatious mood, he said, “I’ve always
enjoyed coming to Anticue.”
She sipped from a straw and tipped her head
to the side. “So you
have
been here before?”
He nodded and rested his forearms on the bar.
“My granddad and I used to spend a lot of time on the fishing pier
next door. From what I could tell earlier, Anticue hasn’t changed
much in twenty years.”
The bright smile reappeared, and her eyes
sparkled. “Probably not. Folks are pretty content to keep the
status quo. We like our quiet little town.” She shrugged. “Myrtle
Beach is okay. I used to live there myself. But nothing beats this
solitude.”