Rae, Beverly - Chasing Cally [Night Runner Werewolves 2] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Special Edition)

Night Runner Werewolves 2

BEVERLY RAE

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Cally
Sheridan
jerked up her head, tossing back her long, golden locks, the practiced sultry look already in place as she faced the men standing closest to the bar. Keeping with the dance routine, she rotated her hips, turning in a circle as the music vibrated the bar under her boots. Excitement pumped through her veins, invigorating her as much as the first time she’d danced at the Sadie’s Wild Riders Saloon.

Her friend, Roxy Priston, shot her a grin and led the line of six girls doing the
Texas
two-step down the mahogany bar. The other four girls, all veterans of the saloon, whooped and shouted, keeping the energy of the customers high.

The girls were her family, more family than she’d ever known or ever hoped to have. The dream of a big family with sisters, brothers, then a husband and children was just a dream and nothing more.

The dance came easily to Cally, who had rehearsed it often. She liked being on stage and enjoyed showing off her sexy figure. But the nights she yearned for the most were the open-mike nights when she could sing. Taking the microphone from Harriet, the bartender, Cally took a deep breath and started belting out the song she’d penned only a month earlier.

Her voice carried above the crowd’s cheers, ringing out true, and the calls of the mostly male customers told her she sounded great. One day, with luck and perseverance, she’d hear her songs on the radio. Maybe even sung by someone as wonderful as Taylor Swift or Martina McBride. Writing songs was more her passion than singing, but until Taylor’s manager called and asked to let Taylor record one of her songs, she’d sing them herself.

The dancers-slash-waitresses kept time along with her and flirted with the men and women who came to see them perform. They twirled then executed difficult dance steps and shook a little T and A. Nothing too raunchy, but nothing too sweet, either.

The song ended on a high note that demonstrated her amazing vocal range. Applause broke out interspersed with admiring whistles and calls for an encore. Cally waved and gave them a sexy, I’m-so-glad-you-liked-it smile then hurried off the bar to take her turn pouring drinks.

“You sounded great, Cally.”

Cally threw a towel on her shoulder and nodded at a man who’d just given her his drink order then turned toward her friend. “Thanks, Roxy. You looked great out there, too.”

“Yeah, I can hold my own with the dancing but, girl, you’ve got the pipes.” Roxy’s straight, black hair highlighted the brown tone of her skin. “If I could sing like you, I’d head over to
Nashville
and forget all about
Dallas
.”

“Haven’t you heard?
Dallas
is the new
Nashville
.”

Roxy’s snort was one of the most unladylike sounds Cally had ever heard. But watching Roxy’s facial expression as she did it always made Cally laugh.

“Uh-huh. Whatever. But at the very least you should be headlining at one of the clubs in the Big D.”

“I just might do that some day. After all,
Dallas
isn’t that far away.” Cally popped the lid off a beer bottle and waited for the customer to pay. Along with a nice tip, of course.

The women at the club were always supportive. More supportive than her parents had been when they’d kicked her out of the house once they’d heard she’d quit college to work at Sadie’s. As an only child, she was their greatest failure.

“But until I do, I have to make a living and working here keeps a roof over my head. Plus, I like the people I work with. At least, most of them.”

Roxy caught her joking dig and bumped her hip against hers. “You just better remember us little people once you make it in the big time.”

“Will do. I’ll even let you stay on my ranch while I create more top hits for the best singers.”

“Aw, shoot. You should write
and
sing. Why give someone else your songs?”

“I don’t want to tour around the world and never settle down. I’d rather live on a sprawling ranch and write every day. Let other people get the fame for singing my songs. As long as I share in the fortune, I’m good.”

“Okay, but I still think you’re nuts not to do both.”

Cally accepted a large tip from another man who hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she’d gotten off the bar. That wasn’t unusual, but the way he watched her, like a cat about to pounce on a mouse, left her uneasy.

Please don’t let him be one of those guys.

She resisted her normal urge to smile as a thank-you for the tip, hoping to dissuade more interest. Instead, she turned her back and put the twenty in the large jar under the bar.

Once the club closed up for the night, the girls would divide the tips equally. The fact that she made more in tips than the other girls didn’t bother her. As long as everyone worked hard, they all benefited.

Rachel Wilkins, a newbie with the group, eased next to Cally who kept busy wiping down the counter. “Hey, did you see those guys in the corner? Holy shit. Talk about hot.” She fanned her hand and blew out a breath.

Rachel was barely legal and boy crazy, which made Cally want to shake her and wake her up to the harsh reality of their business. “No, but I probably know their type. Let me guess. They came together in a group, sat in the dark corner out of the way, and ran a tab. Then one or more of them decided he’s fallen in love and asks the waitress to sit down and talk. Am I close?”

Rachel’s mouth fell open. “How’d you know? Especially about the talking part?”

Cally put her hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “I know because it happens every night. Not the same group of men, but there’s always a group. Take a lesson from me. Serve them their drinks, smile politely, but never sit down.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s hard as hell to get back up and away from them. Our job is to treat the customers well, entertain them with our shows, but that’s all. Not to give special attention to just a few. Attention they’ll misinterpret as something more. Do you get what I mean?”

Rachel tilted her head, a confused expression marring the porcelain skin. Cally sighed and waited, hoping the girl had more brain cells than she’d originally given her credit for. At last, realization dawned in the fog-filled, hazel eyes.

“Oh. You’re kidding, right? If a girl sits and talks to them for a few minutes, that means she’s ready to do more? Like take money to…you know what? Eew. What do they think we are? Hos?”

“Sometimes.” She rubbed the girl’s arm. “Look, I’m not saying you can’t hook up with someone you meet at work. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. But be choosey. Make sure they understand it’s your choice and you decide what will or won’t happen.”

“But, Cally, they asked for you.” Rachel shrugged. “One guy said he wanted to tell you how great your voice is.”

Hell’s bells. Now what?
“Okay, come with me and let me show you how to handle this type of situation.”

Cally motioned for Roxy to take over for her then led Rachel toward a group of five men sitting around one of the tables in the far corner of the bar. One of them grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling in what could almost be considered a baby face. Thick, black hair curled around his earlobes. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long, lean, muscled body, and studied her, making her heat up in hidden areas of her body.

She started to smile, then caught herself and adopted a pleasant yet professional appearance.
Damn, girl. Listen to your own advice.

The men were all tens, if not elevens by any woman’s standard of hotness. She could see why Rachel was tempted to spend time with them. Still, she’d found out the hard way to keep business in the bar and take the fun outside.

A tug on her arm had her stumbling in the opposite direction. “Hey!”

“You’re going the wrong way. The guys I’m talking about are over there.”

Cally followed Rachel’s direction. Sure enough, another group of men were seated at a table against the far wall. She scanned the six men and sighed. Not only were they not half as sexy as the other guys, she could already sense the arrogance radiating off them. “Damn.”

She kept her smile, albeit one that held no hint of sincerity, and walked over to the table, careful to keep enough distance between her and the nearest man. She’d gotten pulled on top of a customer’s lap more times than she wanted to remember.

“Hi, guys. Rachel told me you wanted to talk to me.” Her quick appraisal was dead on. One smacked a wad of money onto the table while the others almost drooled as they took her in, lingering far too long on her breasts.

Subtle they aren’t.

“We sure did, sugar. Name’s Burke and I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your singing. Shania Twain ain’t got nothing on you. How about pulling up a chair and setting a spell?”

Just because you grew up in
Texas
doesn’t mean you have to sound like a cowboy straight out of the movies, does it?
Yet Cally kept her question to herself. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. But I’m sorry. I can’t sit down. First of all, there’s not an empty seat.”

“Aw, sugar, you can sit on my lap. For free, too.” Burke scooted his chair back and patted his leg as the others guffawed at his joke.

Aw, sugar, my ass. This guy reminds me of a gorilla in a man’s suit.

She powered on, ignoring his comment. “In the second place, our boss doesn’t like us to spend time with one group. We’ve got a lot of customers to take care of. So, excuse me, but I need to work for a living, you know.”

The man seated on her other side tried to take her hand, but she deftly hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her short denim skirt.

“We’re customers, too. Besides, I’m sure old Sadie won’t mind once she knows we’ll pay you for your time.”

She almost grinned at the image of Sadie whacking the man upside his head for calling her old. Granted, she’d just celebrated her seventy-fifth birthday, but anyone who knew Sadie knew she was in better shape, both mentally and physically, than most women half her age. “Again, thanks, but no thanks. The other girls and I get paid to dance, sing, and sling brew. Nothing else.”

She pivoted on her heel, letting their comments roll off her as she tugged Rachel along with her. “See how it’s handled?”

“Yeah. You were amazing. How can I thank you for keeping me from screwing up?”

“No need. We’re in this together. But, if you really want to thank me—” Cally hugged the girl to her.

“Oh, I do. I do.”

“Great. I haven’t had a break in over two hours. How about covering for me behind the bar while I freshen up my makeup?”

“You got it, Cally. Take as long as you want.” Rachel almost skipped over to the bar.

Wow. To think two years ago I was that naïve.
Cally hurried down the long hallway leading to the ladies’ restroom. She had her hand on the doorknob when a low whistle had her whirling around.

Aw, crap. This isn’t good.

She turned the knob, hoping to get inside before Burke got too close. Burke, however, was quick on his feet, quicker than any man his size had a right to be. He bolted next to her, flattening his hand on the door.

“What’s your hurry, sugar?”

She closed her eyes, gathered her resolve, then turned to confront him. Beer stench and bad breath hit her, almost choking her. “What does it look like I’m doing? Now, if you’ll kindly take your paw off the door…” She glared pointedly at his hand, then into his bloodshot eyes.

“Why so hostile, sugar?” He started to run the backs of his fingers over her cheek, but she jerked away. “I’m trying to get to know you.”

She squared off at him, determined not to let her jangled nerves get the best of her. “Okay, then here’s one thing you need to learn about me. I don’t like you. Now back the hell off.”

His smile faded, replaced by an angry scowl. He clutched her wrist and yanked her hand off the knob. Before she could utter a curse, he pushed her back against the door. Putting his face an inch from hers, he whispered in her ear.

“Now you listen, you little bitch. I watched you wiggle your ass and tease every man in this place. You’re nothing but a slut. I’m going to take you outside and let you suck my dick. When you’re done, you’re going to smile sweetly and thank me for letting you do it.”

Cally’s heart pounded in her chest and she struggled to speak, hoping her voice wouldn’t quiver. “If you do, I’ll bite it off, chew it up, and spit it in the trash where it belongs.”

He snarled, shoving his hand under her skirt. Stunned, Cally froze then tried to push his hand away. She called out, but he covered her mouth, stifling her scream.

“Spread your legs. I going to see how wet you are.” He drew in a long, slow breath, his nostrils widening. “Shoo-wee, I can already smell your sweet pussy.”