As I pulled off the road, the small dirt parking lot was nearly full. Luckily, I found a spot near the treeline. I wasn’t sure what to expect as I walked through the doors, but at this point, I didn’t care. Anything was better than being alone.
And the hot-as-sin bartender staring at me as though I was his last meal wasn’t half-bad either.
He wasn’t handsome in the way most men were these days. There was something distinctly rugged about him, something I’d always been attracted to but had never found. Day-old stubble lined his jaw, and his dark hair was tucked beneath a backward baseball cap. He wore a black t-shirt that hugged a well-defined chest. The sleeves tightened around his biceps as he worked.
And hishands.
God, I’d never considered how hot something like that could be? I’d been around my fair share of cowboys, and while their hands were rough and worn like this man’s were, I’d never had a visceral reaction to them before.
I wanted to know what they’d feel like against my skin. Would he caress my body gently? Or would his calloused palms dig into my flesh like a man possessed?
One thing was for sure… I needed to get a fucking grip before I jumped across this bar and answered my own dangerous questions.
“Rough night?” he asked, grabbing a bottle with a time-worn label off the shelves. It looked a bit dusty, but I didn’t care. The burn was all I needed to get my mind off what awaited me once I left this dive.
I scoffed, running a hand through my hair as he pushed the glass forward. “You could say that.” I brought the glass to my lips, savoring that sweet sting as it traveled down my throat, leaving only a warm tingle behind.
The bartender raised his brows in surprise. “Damn, killer. I’ve seen grown men struggle to take a shot of that.”
I smiled, lifting my glass in a fake toast. “Well, my daddy taught me to handle my whiskey. Nothing can be worse than the rye bullshit he keeps on hand.”
“Noted,” he said, offering a little salute. “So, you’re obviously not from around here.”
I waited a beat, wondering if he would follow up his observation with a question, but he said nothing more. “That obvious, huh?”
The corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “I’d remember your face if I’d ever run into it before.”
The heat from the liquor had nothing on the blush creeping across my cheeks. “Is that right?”
He leaned forward, dark eyes raking over my face before dipping lower. The scent of fresh forest and aged whiskey was a punch to the gut. It should be illegal to smell that good. I wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.
“Sure is,” he said. “Now, the question is… What brought you to Pinecrest?”
I sighed, running my finger along the rim of the glass. He was asking a loaded question, and I didn’t know if I wanted to give him the answer. Usually, I was an open book. I wore my heart on my sleeve, and my face always betrayed my emotions. “I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I was on vacation?”
“Nope.”
"Okay, what about one of those soul-searching retreats that are always advertised on social media? You know, the kind that swears they can change your life just by reading your cards."
His deep, throaty laughter would've made me weak in the knees if I hadn't been sitting down already. "Cards?"
I shrugged. "Tarot cards or whatever. I don't know; it sounded good in my head. My sister is into all that shit."
“Which brings us back to the question at hand.” He pushed off the counter, pulling a glass down and pouring himself two fingers of the same liquor he’d offered me.
I brought my drink to my lips, savoring the subtle sweet flavor. “Should you really be drinking on the job? Isn’t that kind of illegal?”
He pointed the bottle in my direction. “Anyone ever tell you you’re mighty good at deflecting, darlin’?”
The name shouldn’t have sounded so good falling from his lips, but I was a goner. I clenched my thighs together to stifle the blooming ache. “Maybe a time or two. Is it so wrong to want to keep you guessing?”
“Fair point,” he said with a chuckle. “How about you tell me your name? After all, I may be willing to let you off with one free drink, but my boss is a stickler for the rules, and he’s sitting right behind me.”
I peered around his tall frame in time to see a group of men in their sixties suddenly diverting their attention to the beers in front of them. The one in the middle looked up momentarily, and I could see the blush creeping from under his thick beard. “Oh yeah, he seems like a real ball buster.” I leaned down, digging through my purse until I grabbed my wallet and placed a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Will this buy me another round?”
“You haven’t even finished?—”
But his words died when I grabbed the half-empty glass and downed the contents. The liquor was making me bold, so I playfully opened my mouth to show I’d swallowed every drop. His eyes darkened, pinning me to the spot as I closed my mouth and smiled. “What about now? Have I earned another drink?”
