by Anthology
“Sam, I’m never too busy for you.” He reached across the bar and took a strand of her dark hair in his fingers, letting it slide through his grasp. She fought hard to control the shivers that blasted through her. He would not get to her. Not this time. She was too smart for him. “In fact,” he continued, “I was hoping we could catch up while I’m here.” His hand slid alongside her cheek but instead of sinking into the sensation, she pulled away. “Come on, I’m only here for a few nights, and I know we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”
She shook her head. No. It had taken her months to recover from his last visit and she’d sworn to herself that she’d never do it again. She was too strong of a woman to fall for that over and over again.
“I thought I told you that you weren’t welcome in here again, Mackelroy.”
Sam turned to see Archer standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a glare in his eyes. There had never been any love lost between the two men, but after the last time Preston had left her heart fractured, it was Archer who put it back together again. He’d spent hours with her convincing her she deserved better and there was someone out there for her that would treat her right.
As if he read her thoughts, Archer shot her a look. “I need to see you in the kitchen, Sam.”
“Now?” She glanced between the men.
“Now. It’s an emergency.”
“An emergency?”
“You need someone to stir your soup, Wolfe?”
Archer took a step toward Preston and for a second Sam was afraid he might hit him, but Archer stopped himself, and turned to her. “Now,” he said through gritted teeth.
She sighed. There really wasn’t any point pushing Archer further. “Fine. I’ll be right back,” she said to Preston. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”
“Without you?” He wiggled his eyebrow in a way that used to make her stomach flip, but to her surprise, only made her shake her head. Maybe she really was starting to get over him?
Sam followed Archer through the swinging kitchen door and before it even had time to swing shut behind her, he spun around to confront her. “What do you think you’re doing? You shouldn’t even let that asshole through the door after the way he treated you.”
“It’s not like that, Arch.” She rolled her shoulders and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m just being friendly.”
“He made his choice a long time ago.” Archer continued as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “You weren’t good enough for him then, what makes you think you’re good enough now?”
His words cut deep. “Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Oh I know.” Sam picked up a stack of napkins and rolled some cutlery. “I’m just some piece of townie trash. Not good enough for much more than slinging drinks and serving up greasy burgers.”
“No.” Archer grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her gently. “That’s not true, and you damn well know it. Preston has never been good enough for you. Not the other way around. You deserve a hell of a lot better than that self-centered piece of—”
“I got it, Arch.” She shrugged him off and rolled another set of cutlery. “You beat that into my head years ago. He doesn’t deserve me, I can do better, yeah, yeah.”
“It’s true, Sam.”
“You know what I believe?” She tossed a fork back into the cutlery pile. “I believe that I’m sick of living like a nun. Sometimes a girl just wants to—”
“Spare me the details, please.” He put his hands over his ears and hummed, making her laugh until she swatted him with a towel.
“Okay, okay. I get it.”
“Promise me you’ll stay away from Preston.”
It wasn’t a hard promise to keep. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll stay away from him.”
Archer smiled. “Good.” He wiped his hands on his apron in anticipation. “I’ll go get rid of him.”
“I don’t need you to do that.”
Her friend raised an eyebrow because they both knew that was a lie.
“Oh, and for the record, I don’t make greasy burgers.” Archer untied his apron and threw it at her. “Don’t look so bummed, Sam. I’m sure some guy is going to come along and give you all kinds of pleasures I’m never going to want to hear about.”
CHAPTER 3
From the outside, the Grizzly Paw was everything Trent expected it to be. A typical small-town pub in a mountain town, it had wooden siding, with a generous front porch and big windows on either side of the door. The cedar shingles were grayed and in some spots the roof looked like it had been completely taken over by the surrounding pine trees, it blended in so well. It was rustic, and despite the fact that he tended to prefer a more modern and sleek style, Trent liked it. And you couldn’t beat the location. A large grassy field spilled out to the lake beyond, giving the place perfect views. He walked up the steps, trailed his hands over bright blossoms of some red flower he couldn’t identify that filled some large pots, and opened the door.
The second he stepped inside, the aroma of home cooking immediately hit him instead of the expected smell of stale smoke and spilled beer. His stomach rumbled and he remembered what Beth had said about the Grizzly Paw making a great burger.
As he walked through the room, he glanced around at the tables that were occupied. People seemed to be enjoying their lunches and were chatting comfortably. He smiled and nodded as he made his way to the bar, choosing the more social option instead of the tables with the excellent views by the window. Carmen was right; he needed to get out more. He pulled up a stool and sat down next to the only other man sitting at the bar.
“Hey.” Trent tried to keep his tone light and friendly. “Is there a bartender around here?”
“Yeah.” The man nodded and focused his attention on the door behind the bar. “Sam’s just in the back there.”
“Great.” He didn’t seem like he was up for chatting, but Trent thought he’d give it one more try. “Do you live in—”
Before he could finish what he was going to say, the door to the kitchen swung open and a large man pushed through. “Time to go, Preston.” He stood with his arms crossed and stared at the man next to Trent, who opened his mouth, but, obviously decided to keep his thoughts to himself and closed it again before he stood.
Trent watched the mostly silent exchange with interest. A little local drama was always entertaining, and as long as it didn’t involve him, he was all for it.
“You’re not welcome in here, Preston,” the man behind the bar, whom Trent could only assume was Sam, said. “I don’t want to see your face again.”
“I’ll go,” the other man said. “But we both know that decision isn’t yours to make. She’s a big girl.”
“Get out.”
Trent stood and squared himself for a fight, instinctually ready to back up the bartender. The man flicked his gaze between Trent and his adversary and decided he wasn’t up for a fight.
“Best for you to leave town altogether.”
“I don’t know,” Preston said. “I might just stick around until the festival. Things always get more interesting around the equinox. And we all know about the kiss—”
A growl escaped the man behind the bar and for a moment, Trent thought he might come right over and make the other man leave.
“Time to go.” Trent nodded his head. He expected more of a fight, but to his surprise, Preston grinned and walked out.
When he was gone, the air seemed to clear and Trent returned to his seat, more than ready for that beer.
“Thanks for backing me up there. What can I get you to drink?”
“Hey,” Trent said. “It was no problem. Besides, I don’t think you needed any help from me. But if it’s all the same, I’d love a beer.”
“Coming right up.”
Trent watched while the man poured a beer and set the frothy mug in front of him.
“You must be Sam.” He lifted the glass to his
lips, enjoying the icy goodness. It’d been a long time since he’d had a cold one, and it was exactly what he needed. The man raised his eyebrows, and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, but didn’t say anything, so Trent continued, “I heard the Grizzly Paw had the best burgers in town.”
“Well, that’s a true story,” the man said. “Best burgers for miles. And you won’t get food like this up the hill.”
Trent stiffened, but forced himself to relax. It wouldn’t do any good to get defensive. He was there to make friends. “Funny you mention the Springs.” He said the next words as casually as he could manage. “I’m one of the owners up there.”
“You don’t say?” The man smirked and Trent met his gaze, neither of them willing to lose any ground as a silent and unexpected battle of wills warred between them.
He’d expected some sort of resistance, and he was prepared to hold his own. Careful to stay as non-confrontational as possible, Trent waited while the other man formed his opinion of him. After a moment, he smiled, and stuck out his hand. “I’m Archer. I can help you with that burger and I’ll go get Sam for you.”
Trent matched his smile and took another gulp of his beer. “I appreciate it.”
Archer disappeared into the kitchen and Trent took the opportunity to finish his beer and look around the room. An elderly man in a corner booth was just finishing up his meal and looked like he was getting ready to leave. Trent glanced around. There wasn’t a waitress in sight and he kept a close watch on the man in case he decided to split on his bill. He’d seen enough of that type of thing in his years in the restaurant and hotel industry, and he definitely recognized the signs.
The old man stood, stretched and fussed around with his jacket for a few minutes. Trent was just about to go over to him when the kitchen door opened and an extremely beautiful woman appeared. A woman he’d seen before.
“What can I do for…oh,” she said. “It’s you.” There was no malice in her voice, just a slight tinge of irritation. But her full, pink lips turned up in a smile and she brushed a stray strand of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
His own grin was an automatic response and he wasn’t even going to pretend he wasn’t happy to see her again. Meeting her on the street had been brief, but there was something about the woman and the way she’d looked at him then, and was looking at him now, that intrigued him. “I would love another beer.” He leaned an elbow on the bar. “But that man over there looks like he’s getting ready to walk out on his bill.”
“Who? Him?” Her chocolate eyes followed to where Trent gestured. “Miles,” she called. “How was lunch?”
The old man turned in her direction and smiled a toothy grin. “Could use a few more pickles next time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Have a good day, Miles.”
The old man nodded and shuffled out of the bar.
“He didn’t pay,” Trent said. “Shouldn’t you be—”
“Miles has a tab.” The waitress grabbed Trent’s glass, filled it from the tap, put it in front of him again and wiped the counter. “He comes in every day for lunch. But I appreciate your concern.”
“I’ve seen too many waitresses lose out.” He lifted his mug and watched her over the glass. Her jeans were snug, showcasing a tight body, with a simple black t-shirt that dipped low in the front and gave him a very tempting view of the swell of her breast. He shifted in his seat. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all to start getting to know the people of Cedar Springs. “It’s nice to run into you again,” he said.
She gave him a wary smile.
“I guess it’s my good luck that you work here,” Trent said. “Maybe we could—”
“Archer said you wanted to talk to—”
“Sam, yes,” he cut her off. “But I’d love to get to know you better, too. I’m Trent.” He held out his hand but she didn’t take it.
“Sam.” Her clipped tone said it all. “Samantha, actually.”
“Oh.” He retracted his hand, a bit dumbfounded. “I…I didn’t—”
“Expect a woman?” She put one hand on her hip, which not only had the effect of making her look extremely pissed off, but also made her look extremely hot, His body came to attention.
“No,” he answered honestly. “I didn’t expect a woman. I just assumed that—”
“I was some dumb waitress who would let my checks walk out on me?”
Her annoyance combined with her habit of cutting him off was starting to piss him off, and turn him on, but he wasn’t going to admit that. “I was just trying to help,” he said. “I thought I made that clear.”
“I don’t need your help.”
She spun around and with her back to him, wiped down the counter and organized the glasses.
“Look, I didn’t mean any offense,” he tried again. “To be fair, no one told me Sam was a woman and it’s not really the type of name that would lead me to believe any differently.”
She stopped moving, which Trent took to be a sign that she might be listening to him and possibly giving him a chance to salvage the mess of the situation he’d created. “Beth sent me down here,” he continued.
“Beth?” She still didn’t turn around.
“Yes. She said the Grizzly Paw had the best burgers around and if I mentioned she sent me, you’d be nice to me.” Surely it wouldn’t hurt to elaborate a little bit, Trent decided. Besides, Beth owed him for going so easy on Jules.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
Slowly, Samantha, as he’d decided to refer to her because it was so much safer, turned around again. He saw judgment in her eyes, but something else, too. Interest, maybe? Possibly not, but it didn’t stop a guy from trying. And there was something about the dark-eyed beauty that definitely made Trent want to try.
~ ~
Something about the man sitting in front of her made Sam uneasy. Over the years she’d run into her fair share of men who unsettled her or challenged her. Usually they’d had too much to drink and got sloppy, or were incessantly hitting on her. But none of the men she’d had to deal with at the Grizzly Paw made her nervous the way that Trent did sitting in front of her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, and that was the part that made her crazy.
“Beth was right about the burgers.” She tried to act as naturally as possible and forced the butterflies in her stomach away. “Archer said he was going to make you one.”
He nodded and that same flop of sandy blond hair fell over his eyebrow. He didn’t get his hair cut after all, and something about that thrilled her. He didn’t swipe it back right away and Sam was glad because it gave his otherwise perfectly groomed look a bit of casual, and she liked it. Besides, she had an overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth it back herself so she could see the deep green of his eyes a little more clearly. Not that she would. She shook her head and tried to refocus on wiping the countertop. Anything to keep her distracted from the incredibly handsome man in front of her and the incredibly annoying and persistent thought of what it would be like to kiss him.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Sam’s head shot up. “Pardon me?” Had she spoken out loud? Her face burned from the embarrassment, but Trent smiled and gave her a strange glance.
“The burger,” he said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Of course.”
“What did you think I meant?”
Sam refused to look up again. At least not until the earth opened up and swallowed her. She was acting like a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl whose hormones were shooting out of control. It had to be because of Preston. If he hadn’t shown up out of the blue, she wouldn’t be reacting to this total stranger the way she was. Preston always had that effect on her, and…
The bell from the back that signaled the burger was ready sounded, and saved Sam from herself.
“I’ll be right back.” She hoped she sounded much more in control of herself than she felt. It wasn’t until she p
ushed through the kitchen door that she realized she’d never asked Trent why he’d been talking to Beth about her at all. Maybe she could get Archer to take his food out? That way she could go back to her office and depress herself further with the financials and save herself from further embarrassment.
“What’s up with you?”
Sam blinked hard and looked up at Archer, who was staring at her with a bemused expression. She ignored both his comment and the way he was laughing at her. “I need you to take that to the guy at the bar.” She pointed to the burger and filled a glass of water at the sink, drinking it down in an effort to quench the fire that was suddenly and intensely burning inside her.
“No can do.”
Sam spun around. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. Too busy.”
Sam looked around the kitchen. With lunch long over, and no new customers, Archer was definitely not busy and they both knew it.
“Doing what?”
“Cleaning.”
The kitchen was pristine, as it always was. Archer took a great deal of pride in his work and that included keeping his space immaculate. Sam raised an eyebrow. “Archer, I’m your boss.” She put her hands on her hips and tried her best to look tough. “And I’m telling you to take the customer his lunch.”
“If by customer, you mean the man at the bar who happens to own the Springs,” he paused, gauging her reaction, “the answer is still no.”