“Damn. I was really hoping he was going to talk to you. The chemistry was practically sizzling across the room.”
“Maybe he’s in the bathroom.” Skylar’s eyes flicked toward the hallway near the pool tables.
“Yes, he could be.” Ryan caught the eye of a bartender, a blonde with hazel eyes and waved her over.
“What can I get you ladies?”
“Hi, what’s your name?”
“Laura. You?”
“I’m Ryan Carroll and this is my best friend, Skylar McCoy. We moved here recently.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you both. Welcome to Clifton.” The women shook hands.
“Laura, that gorgeous man you served a beer to, just a little while ago at the bar, tall, dark hair, black cowboy hat, red T-shirt, do you know him?” Ryan asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“Did he leave?”
“Uh, I’m not sure.” Laura’s eyes swept across the bar, lingering on empty stools.
“Damn,” Skylar said, shoulders slumping.
“Let me ask one of the others.”
“Thanks.”
They watched Laura weave through the crowd, conferring with two other servers before making her way back, her expression apologetic.
“No one waited on him after I did, so he’s probably gone.” She frowned, wiping her hands on a rag tucked into her apron. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, well. Wait. What’s his name?” Skylar perked up, hope flickering in her eyes.
“Rawley Bowman.”
“Raliegh? Like the city?”
“No. R.A.W.L.E.Y. He’s MDOL, so he works out of an office in the courthouse here in town.”
“MDO—what?” Skylar asked, leaning forward.
“He’s a Montana Department of Livestock agent. They deal with all the ranchers and farmers around here.”
“Oh. Well, that’s sexy too.” Skylar smiled.
“I’m sorry he left. Rawley’s a great guy.”
“Gorgeous as sin too.” Skylar sighed.
Laura laughed, a genuine sound that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Yes, he is.”
“Well, let’s go home. At least you get to go home to a man, while I have a cat with an attitude problem.” Skylar shook her head, gathering her purse.
“Goodnight. You ladies be careful now.” Laura scooped up their empty glasses, deposited them in the sink with a clink, then wiped down the bar.
Skylar and Ryan pushed through one of the heavy doors and stepped outside. The night air hung thick and heavy, clinging to their skin. August in Montana, days of blistering sun giving way to sultry evenings.
