Page 12 of Protect and Serve

He just wasn’t the one.

“Oh hey, Dustin. Naw, I’m good.”

He flicked a look over her t-shirt. It was one of her favorites, with rhinestones spelling out Got Bling? on the front, but she didn’t care for the direction of his perusal. “You’re looking pretty tonight, Claire. Got a date?”

She huffed a laugh. “Nope. Just here with the boys.”

“Ah. And here I was thinking some idiot had stood you up.”

“Nope. No idiot.”

He nonchalantly rubbed a cloth over the bar. “You, ah, dating anyone now?”

Shit. She knew that tone. She shouldn’t even be talking to him. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage him. He’d been hard enough to shake off the last time she’d broken up with him.

If he started hounding her again, she’d be miserable. Just trying to avoid him took too much energy. Especially when he worked in the only place in town that made a decent burger.

A lie was most definitely in order.

She looked down and feigned a smile. “Maybe.”

His hand stilled. Curled into a fist around the rag. “Really?”

Holy crap. One word, but it spoke volumes. She had to look at him. His expression was tight, his chin hard. His eyes burned into her.

“One of those fancy Dallas boys you have up to the ranch, I s’pose.” Practically a snarl.

It took some effort to remain casual. “Darling, you know I never mix business with pleasure.”

An unexpected laugh at her shoulder danced over her cheek. Everything in her clenched as she recognized Charlie’s voice. His scent. “That’s good to know,” he said as he took the stool beside her. He tipped his head to Dustin. “A beer, please.”

Dustin frowned, then nodded and headed to the tap.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” Charlie said in an undertone, with a hint of humor that made her want to smack him.

“It’s the only bar in town.”

“That it is.” He flicked a look around the bar.

She tried to be all blasé and pithy, but she made the mistake of looking at him. He wasn’t wearing his sexy uniform, but in button-fly jeans and a polo shirt, he was even more lethal. Jesus God it should be illegal for a man to wear a shirt that tight in public.

Or maybe it wasn’t the shirt. A shirt was just a shirt, wasn’t it?

It was all the shit packed into it.

Bulging pecs, broad shoulders, massive, veined biceps and that neck.

Technically, the neck wasn’t in the shirt, but still, it was thick and muscled and speckled with his day beard.

He glanced at her beer. His annoying brow quirked up. “You’re not driving, are you?” he whispered. “Because I’d hate to pull you over…again.”

She faked a smile. “Oh, come on, Charlie. You love pulling me over and you know it.”

“It was the highlight of my day. I admit it.”

“I live to serve.”

His smiled dimmed. “So…” A long pause. “You’re seeing someone?”