Miguel shook a sauté pan of mushrooms, looking at her over the steam knowingly. “When you don’t answer your phone, they get sneaky.”
She stared at the phone, biting her thumbnail. “It was the wrong number.”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “Better take the next one. They won’t stop.”
“Shh,” she hissed, looking around. Her family were regulars at the Pub along with everyone else in Northfield. If they found out she was being hounded by a debt collectionagency, they would...well, they would want to help. She pushed the horrifying thought aside.
“There won’t be a next time. It wasn’t for me,” she said.
It was fine. Everything was fine.
She had hours left to make enough tips to cover her rent, plus put a little down on the loan she owed. She had been in some tight spots with money before, and she always got out of them.But they had never called her at work before, an unhelpful voice whispered.
The first beats of her favorite song thrummed through the air when she stepped back behind the bar, and the ball of stress and anxiety that had kept her wound so tightly quivered.
“Nope,” Cap grabbed her arm as she walked by. “Remember what happened last time.”
But it was too late.
The spring pulled taut. One last effort before it snapped, but it wasn’t a match for Def Leppard. Come on. Eighties hair metal got her every time.Karaoke was her kryptonite, and everyone knew this was her favorite song. Her boys were already calling her name to get on the bar.
A little voice of reason tugged at her, but she pushed it away. Blame it on the heat, or the phone call, or just plain bad decision making, but Amber allowed herself to be lifted onto the bar and then up to standing.
A mic appeared in one of her hands and a bottle of vodka in another, and Amber looked over to the band. Eden, the lead singer, winked and began singing in her sexy voice about being hot and sticky sweet.
She forgot about the stack of bills waiting for her at home. She forgot about car repairs. She forgot about the credit card that was maxed, and she let the music wash over her while she sang. She poured shots into open, willing mouths as sheshimmied back and forth across the bar and let herself forget everything.
Until her foot slipped on a puddle. She let out a whoop and slid straight down on her bottom on the bar, the ice-cold vodka spilling over her chest. She laid there laughing, only to stop when two bossy hands clamped onto her shoulders and pulled her up to sitting.
A soft thud against a hard chest, and suddenly she was looking directly into Theo Clairmont’s unreadable blue eyes.
This close, she realized his eyes were not merely blue. They reminded her of deep water, lighter on the surface, and darker the deeper you went. A tendril of something liquid hot slid through her body, and she realized she wanted something from him. Something other than disinterest or, worse, amusement.
Raising her own eyebrows in a challenge, she tipped the mic until it rested on his lips. “Sing,” she said breathlessly.
Theo batted the mic away impatiently, and she was suddenly aware of her legs spread wide on either side of his torso, his body strong and firm and hot between her thighs. His expensive cologne filled her senses while an awareness throbbed through her, leaving an empty ache low in her stomach.
It was the closest she had been to having a man between her legs for as long as she could remember. Theo shrugged off his suit jacket and jerked it around her shoulders.
“I’m hot,” she said, trying to shrug off the jacket.
“You’re wet.” Theo’s cool eyes slid down her body and stopped. Amber followed his eyes down at the wide strip of fabric clinging to her skin, making the lacy pale pink bra she wore under almost transparent. Her nipples perked up right on cue, and a delicate shiver skimmed over her at the suggestive words.
The mayor’s icy disapproval wavered for a moment. It felt like a small victory, but she savored it.
Impulsively, she grabbed the nearest drink on the bar and tossed it at his chest. “Now we match,” she said. Her heart beat hard enough that she was sure he could hear it. Whether in fear or defiance, or maybe excitement, Amber held his eyes while an amber splotch spread over his chest, molding it to the hard plane of muscle there.
Theo’s hands tightened on the lapels until she was barely on the bar, leaning precariously on his chest. The mayor seemed to be familiar with both the gym and the golf course.
His body was a large, solid rock, and for the briefest moment, she allowed herself to rest flush against him. They paused like that for a long, electrified second while the music and the dancing faded around them.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Eden’s voice cut off on a jarring note and the speaker gave feedback in a piercing screech. And then there was silence.
Killian was back.Amber's eyes widened in panic and looked to Theo instinctively, for what, she didn't know. There wasn’t anything life had thrown at her she couldn’t handle on her own. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she jerked her eyes away and leaned back.
Killian stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a look she’d never seen on his face. She swallowed hard and tried a dazzling smile. “Hey, boss,” she said. “I’m making you so much money right now.”
