Chapter One
Darcie
Ihadn’t gone into the bar looking for trouble. Just the opposite, in fact. If I had been concentrating on where I was going, if I had even glanced up at the sign hanging crookedly over the door, I wouldn’t have pushed that door open.
But I wasn’t looking, and I most definitely wasn’t paying attention. All I wanted to do was get out of the overbearing heat and get myself a cold drink.
Maybe several ice-cold drinks.
But as soon as my eyes grew accustomed to the sudden gloom, I knew I was in trouble.
Several pairs of eyes swivelled in my direction, spearing me to the spot.
Well damn.
I had two seconds to make the decision, but honestly, I only needed one. Straightening my shoulders, I made my way to the bar. My flip flops seemed unnaturally loud on the floor. But that was ok. I expected stares. I had been getting stares from the moment I had stepped out of the car in this godforsaken town. I looked like an outsider because I was an outsider. And that was fine by me.
They could all go to hell anyway.
I was out of here.
On the next bus, the next plane.
Hell, I’d walk if it came to it. But only after I had had a drink. I deserved a drink after the day I’d had. A very large, very stiff drink.
“Hi.” Leaning against the warm wood of the bar, I smiled my most winning smile. The one that showed a lot of teeth but didn’t quite reach my eyes.
The man behind the bar turned slowly, his brown eyes appraising as he stared over at me. But he didn’t smile, and he didn’t speak. He just carried on wiping the already dry glass with his rag.
“Hello?” He finally finished his job, which seemed to take him far longer than was necessary. Placing the now sparkling glass down, he looked me over, and I gave him another smile, followed by a wave as I plopped my bag on the worn wood, rifling through to find some money.
“What can I help you with?” His accent was thick, rough around the edges like everyone else in this bar by the looks of it.
I glanced around. My eyes taking it all in, the rough, scarred wooden tables. The oversized flag on the wall that seemed to take pride of place. But I didn’t catch any of the several eyes that were staring at me.
”A pint.” My voice faltered as the man next to me laughed.
”A pint?” He put on a very fake, very bad upper-class English accent, and I felt my cheeks flame as he turned to me, leaning into my space just enough to make me feel uncomfortable, but not enough to be threatening yet.
I gave a small laugh, my eyes downward as I concentrated on finding any and all loose change in my bag. “Beer.” I tried to smile, but it came out uncertain. Watery.
Damn it. I would not cry here. Not in this bar and not in front of these hard-eyed men who were all still staring at me like I was a god damn alien.
”Anything will do.” I added, cupping the coins in my hand. I tried to count it quickly. Why had I left without at least making sure I had some actual cash on me? Because I was a dumb ass fool, that’s why.
I was always doing things like that, letting my hot head get the better of me and rushing off without thinking.
At home, I could get away with it, but here? Where I didn’t know anyone? Yeah, my impulsive nature was going to get me into trouble.
“Do you take card?” I held up the small piece of plastic between my fingers, and the man next to me chuckled again. The bartender’s eyebrows shot down, a frown marring his handsome face. “Do we look like we take card?”
I looked about again. No. No, it definitely didn’t look like they took card. Embarrassed, I shoved it back down into the bottom of my bag and went back to counting the money in my hand.
Damn it, why did American currency have to be so confusing? I was so engrossed in trying to work it out that I didn’t see the man next to me move until his hand slid over my hip.
“I’ll buy you that beer.” His fingers scrunched up the grey material of my favourite maxi dress as he gripped my hip a little tighter. And I could do nothing but blink up at him in surprise.
“Thanks.” I tried for another smile, and this time he returned it with a predatory one of his own. “But it’s fine. I’ll just get a lemonade.” Lemonade was probably a better choice. No good ever came of me drinking when I was in a mood. It made me even more reckless. And that was the last thing I needed to be right now. “A soda.” I tugged the delicate material from his grasp, but this only made him chuckle even more. “Any soda, please.”
