Head Over Heels

by Susan Andersen

  Unable to sustain contact with those fierce brown eyes, she snatched her hand off his arm and glanced around the bar. “Oh, look, there’s Kody.” Her smile was radiant with relief. Maybe she’d go practice her wiles on him for a while before throwing herself head-long into the big league. Not that Kody struck her as particularly minor league, but at least he didn’t have the same effect on her that Coop did.

  As she turned to go, Coop reached out a hand to detain her. “Do your job before you go flirt with your boyfriend,” he ordered.

  “My boyfr…?” Veronica swallowed her initial impulse to jerk her arm free and snarl back at him. Instead, she raised her gaze from his grip on her arm to his narrowed eyes and gave him a little smile she sincerely hoped made her look like the last of the red-hot mamas…or at least mysterious. But when Coop abruptly released her arm and stepped back, his face wiped free of all expression, she had a sinking feeling she’d appeared constipated instead. Not exactly the look she was shooting for. Snatching up her tray, she stalked away. What the hell was she doing playing these asinine games, anyway? She’d had better sense back in junior high school.

  She headed straight for Kody’s table. They’d hit it off during the two days he’d spent putting in the air purification system. He was handsome, fit, and easy to talk to, and she felt comfortable with him, a restful change after time spent in Coop’s company.

  “Hey, there,” she said, dropping a coaster on his table. “Have you been served yet?” Sandy, the other barmaid, had staked out the pool table side of the room as her territory and only ventured into what she considered Veronica’s if Veronica wasn’t yet on duty.

  He looked up, and his lean cheeks creased with his smile. “No, but then I just got here.”

  “Me, too. What can I get you?” When he ordered a domestic draft she made a note of it, then shifted her tray to a more comfortable position. “You know, I was just thinking how nice it is not to be hit with a wall of smoke the instant I walk through the door. Not to mention that I no longer stink to high heaven when I go home at night. That system you put in was worth every penny.” Which reminded her, she still had to talk to Coop about being reimbursed for it—but not right this minute. She’d give him a little room first to recover from whatever bug had bit his butt. Shooting Kody another smile, she thanked God for laid-back men. “I’ve got a few more orders to take, then I’ll be back with your beer.”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked at her from beneath half-mast eyelids. “Looking forward to it.”

  She didn’t know if it was her own good mood or what, but there seemed to be a nicer class of clientele in here tonight. Several people actually went out of their way to tell her how sorry they’d been to hear about Crystal, which she found both kind and friendly. Her memories of the bar during her college years consisted mainly of dealing with the drunks who’d pawed her and given her a bad time, but for all she knew there’d always been a mix of perfectly nice neighborhood people. It was possible they hadn’t stuck in her mind because she’d been young, and fielding personal remarks about her lack of curves and dodging wandering hands that grabbed for them anyway had a nasty way of overshadowing all else.

  Whatever the reason, it felt as though she smiled and chatted with more patrons in the short time she spent collecting orders than she’d done in all her previous nights combined.

  She danced up to the bar. A stool was available and she climbed up on it, having learned to take every opportunity to get off her feet. When Coop came down from the other end where he’d been making change for a patron, she gave him her most dazzling smile. “I need one Bud, a vodka collins and a Cutty on the rocks, a pitcher of Heineken and four glasses, a Manhattan, a diet Pepsi, and a tequila sunrise.” “Turn It Loose” was playing on the jukebox, and she joined the Judds with an enthusiastic “mo-woe-woan” in the chorus, tapping her foot in time with the music.

  “You’re awful damn cheery,” Coop said sourly as he assembled the drinks for her order. “You got a hot date later on with the refrigerator man, or something?”

  She quit singing to stare at him. “Kody knows about refrigeration, too?”

  Coop hitched a shoulder.

  “Oh, this is too good.” She touched her fingertips to his wrist when he slid the tray across the bar. “Thanks.” Hopping off the stool, she reached for her order. “Hey, I just realized something. We’re twinsies tonight—our sweaters are nearly the exact same shade of red.”

  His gaze went straight to her meager cleavage where it rose above the low scoop of her shell, then traveled leisurely up her chest, her throat, her face, to finally meet her eyes. “Oh, yeah. We’re a regular Boobsie and Bobsie.”

  Veronica felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she looked him straight in the eye and raised one eyebrow, a trick that used to infuriate Crystal. “Boobsie and Bobsie, huh? So which one would that make you?” Without awaiting an answer, she picked up the tray and walked away.

  Saving Kody’s beer for last, she delivered her three other tables. The women in the group at the second table commented favorably on the lack of smoke in the bar, and when she explained about the new purification system, it started a brief, friendly conversation. Excusing herself a few moments later, she tucked a generous tip into her cash box, collected several new orders, then walked over to Kody’s table.

  Setting his beer down in front of him, she said without preamble, “Coop tells me you know something about refrigeration. Is he right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now, this is what I call fortuitous timing.” She flashed him a smile. “Do you plan to be here for a while? That is, if I call a friend to come right over, would you talk with her? She’s on the decorating committee for the Winter Festival and we’ve just spent the afternoon wracking our brains trying to figure out a way to keep ice sculptures from melting—or if it’s economically feasible to even try to make them last for the entire three days.”

  Kody leaned back in his seat and looked up at her. “I plan to stick around for a while, but I probably can’t give your friend more than a couple of general ideas off the top of my head. I’d have to put some thought into the logistics of such a project.”

  “Works for me.” She pushed upright. “I’ll go call her right now.”

  Marissa nearly didn’t answer the phone when it rang. For the first evening in ages, both kids were gone at the same time and she had the house entirely to herself. With a sigh, however, she paused the VCR and picked up the wireless receiver she’d left within reach. It could be about Riley or Dessa, and she’d forgotten to turn on the answering machine to vet her calls. “Hello?”

  Veronica’s excited voice demanded that she find a sitter for Riley and get her rear down to the Tonk. Marissa was about to decline when her friend added, “I’ve got a guy down here who knows something about refrigeration, Riss.”

  “No kidding?” She sat upright. This could be the answer to some of the questions they’d raised during their brainstorming session this afternoon. “Riley’s spending the night with Jeremy Witmore. I’ll be right down.”

  She’d grabbed her coat and was headed for the garage when she caught sight of herself in the utility room mirror and stopped cold. She was going out in public, for heaven’s sake—she could do better than this. She about-faced and ran upstairs to exchange her comfy sweatsuit for a pair of Levi’s and a hand-knit novelty sweater. Then she swiftly unbraided her hair and dragged a brush through it, dashed on some mascara, and rubbed a touch of blush into her cheekbones. She applied her lipstick on her way to the car, and less than ten minutes later was pushing through the Tonk’s front door.

  She spotted Ronnie at the bar and walked over to join her. Just as she approached, a man got up from the stool next to her friend, tossed a couple of bills on the bar, and walked away, nodding to her as they passed.

  “Now, that’s what I call excellent timing,” she said as she slid onto the seat he’d just vacated.

  “Marissa!” Veronica leaned over to give her
a one-armed hug. Settling back on her stool, she looked her over. “Wow, you look great. I love your hair.”

  “You’re looking mighty hot yourself. Red lipstick, Ronnie? What’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing special. I just had a sudden urge for a little change.” She raised her voice. “Barkeep! Bring my friend here a drink, will you?” A crooked smile quirking up one corner of her mouth, she dug her elbow into Marissa’s side.

  Coop sauntered down from the opposite end of the bar. He picked up the cash on the bar, then wiped down the area with a clean towel. “Evening, Marissa.” He gave her an appreciative look. “You’re looking particularly pretty tonight. How are you?”

  “After a compliment like that, I feel particularly fine, thank you very much. How about you? Tonight’s crowd not working you too hard?”

  “Nah, I’m doing all right.” He slid a paper coaster onto the bar in front of her. “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a glass of the house white.”

  “One Chardonnay for the pretty lady, coming right up.” He turned and headed for the middle of the bar.

  “‘For the pretty lady.’” Marissa grinned at Ronnie. “Isn’t he just the sweetest?”

  “That’s the word I would’ve chosen to describe him, all right.” Veronica’s brow developed a tiny pucker as she looked down to where he was selecting a wine glass. “Just sweeter ’n’ a lemon drop.”

  “I suspect you’re humoring me, but he is. And would you look at the size of those hands?” Marissa observed him dreamily. “Do you suppose everything’s proportionate?” She turned back to Veronica and grinned. “There’s a thought, huh? I bet he could reach a girl’s G spot.”

  Ronnie squirmed on her stool for an instant, crossing and recrossing her legs. Marissa watched her prop her chin in her hand and silently stare at the hands under discussion, high color blazing in her cheeks as she watched them efficiently assemble three drinks at once. “I don’t think I have a G spot,” she finally said, turning her head to give Marissa a wry look. “I used to, but it must have atrophied from lack of use.”

  “Oh, boy, I hear that. In fact, I’ll see your hard luck story and raise it with the small town card. At least if an opportunity arises for you, the entire world and its brother doesn’t have to know about it. Even if I could find a guy to scratch my itch, everyone up on the Bluff would probably be talking about it before the last moan had faded.”

  Veronica laughed. “Okay, you win. Your sex life is even more pitiful than mine.”

  “And isn’t that depressing.”

  “Isn’t it, though? And since I have no desire to lose the best mood I’ve been in since I barely remember when, I’m going to change the subject. I wish you could’ve seen the girls tonight, Mare. They did the dress-up thing and, God, they were cute. Do you remember when we used to do that?” Veronica scooped her hair behind her ear and gave Marissa a smile. “You know, I’ve never felt any particular urge to procreate, but there was something about the continuity of seeing Lizzy and your daughter doing the kind of things you and I once did that really got to me. I took a bunch of pictures, so I’ll have some copies made for you when I get them developed.”

  A glass of wine was placed in front of Marissa, but when she looked up to thank Cooper, his attention was elsewhere. His gaze was all over Ronnie, and Marissa straightened smartly in her seat. Hello! What was this? A smile curled her lips, for the way Ronnie had squirmed at the mention of Coop’s hands suddenly took on a whole new meaning.

  Well, well, well. With only the slightest twinge, she relinquished her vague fantasy of starting something with him. The moment Coop collected money for her drink and left to answer a summons at the other end of the bar, however, she turned to demand what was going on. But Ronnie slid from the stool and picked up the tray of drinks Coop had delivered along with Marissa’s wine. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to Kody before I serve these.”

  Marissa followed her. She had a dozen questions buzzing in her brain, but before she could form even one, Veronica stopped at a table. “Rissa,” she said, “this is Kody. Kody, I’d like you to meet my friend Marissa.”

  And Marissa took one look at the man lounging back in his chair, with his long legs stretched out under the little table, and every thought in her head vaporized.

  9

  WHEN COOP CAME OUT OF THE STORAGE ROOM A short while later and saw Sandy standing by the bar rubbing the small of her back, he headed straight for her. “Finally got a minute of down time, huh?” he said as he ducked under the pass-through. He regarded her genially when she started fussing with her cash box. “Take a break, Sandy—I don’t expect you to be busy every minute. You want a club soda?”

  “Thanks; that’d be great.” Looking pleased that he’d noticed her drink of choice, she climbed onto a vacant stool. She sat in a way that emphasized her generous breasts and checked him out from beneath her lashes.

  He poured club soda over ice and handed her the glass. “I was just in the back room looking for more vodka,” he said conversationally. “Now, I never knew Crystal, obviously, but I gotta tell you, organized she wasn’t.”

  Sandy snorted. “No foolin’. Things have been in a lot better shape since you’ve taken over.”

  Coop shrugged. “I’m not really in charge. It’s Veronica’s place.”

  “Sure, but she’s smart enough to let you run it. Be grateful she’s not as big a flake as her sister. Crystal spent most of her time in here flirting. She was much better at talking up men than taking care of business.”

  “I heard you talking about her the other night.” Coop propped his arms on the bar and leaned toward her, giving her an easy smile. “Not the brightest bulb, I take it?”

  “Hardly.”

  “So, do you think somebody was helping her play Eddie?”

  “I actually asked her, but she wouldn’t say yes or no. She just gave me one a them—whataya call ’ems—coy smiles and said that was for her to know.”

  It would’ve all depended on how she’d played it, Coop mused when the waitress returned to work a few minutes later. The only thing Crystal had truly needed in order to get almost anything she wanted from his brother was Lizzy. But if she’d been pulling some elaborate con instead of using her daughter as a bargaining chip—well, from everything he’d ever heard about her, she hadn’t been bright enough to do that on her own. So he had to figure out who might have been helping her. If she’d been seeing anyone, Sandy hadn’t heard about it. Still, it gave him a direction to pursue, and that made him smile.

  But watching Veronica’s butt wiggle in time with the Dixie Chicks as she swiped down the last of her tables at closing time a short while later thrust him right back in the same lousy mood he’d been in all evening.

  Big surprise. He’d given a great deal of thought to this crazy attraction she held for him, and with the methodical precision he’d been renowned for in Company C he’d decided to take a giant step back from it. Distancing himself was a good, solid decision, and it’d held together just fine, too—until she’d come waltzing in here tonight wearing a pair of sprayed-on jeans and that snug, almost too-thin-to-be-considered-a-sweater-set that molded the most beguiling little tits he’d ever laid eyes on. To add insult to injury, the scoop-necked shell afforded him here-and-gone glimpses of a cleavage so sweet and delicate, the mere thought of it, even now when it was safely out of sight, had him reaching down to discreetly adjust himself.

  He dragged his gaze away from the swing of her round little rump and stared blindly at the tally in his hand. Damn. He didn’t get it. Usually he went for breasts that were big enough to overflow his hands. Those little cupcakes of Ronnie’s would barely even snuggle into his palms, let alone give his fingers something to hang on to. Yet he wanted to see them, feel them, so bad he could practically taste it.

  Licking his lips, he scowled. Because tasting her was something else he wanted to do.

  “Did I cash my box out wrong or something?” Sandy�
��s anxious voice broke into his thoughts, and Coop realized he’d been looking at but not paying the slightest attention to her reconciled tab.

  “No, it’s fine,” he assured her. For all he knew, she very well could have, but she hadn’t turned in an incorrect tally yet. And if by some odd quirk of fate she had this time, he’d cover the difference himself. He just wanted this frigging night to be over.

  “You looked mad there for a minute.”

  “I was thinking about something else.” Like how he’d better get his brain the fuck out of his fly. He forced an anemic imitation of his usual easy smile. “Why don’t you go ahead and take off?”

  He realized his mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth. Sandy’s departure would leave him alone with Ronnie, but before he could retract his offer, she’d already flashed him a brilliant smile.

  “Thanks!” In a flurry of material, Sandy yanked off her apron and grabbed her coat and purse. The next thing Coop knew, the door was all but smacking her in the butt as it swung closed behind her.

  He drew a breath deep into his lungs, then blew it out and stonily kept his attention away from Veronica as she finished setting chairs upside down onto the tables in her section. He could hear her singing along with the jukebox, though, and gritted his teeth. Christ Almighty. It wasn’t bad enough she’d gone and dressed all sexy on him, she suddenly had to turn into Miss Personality, too? Where was her usual Princess Standoffish impersonation when a guy could really use it? And what was with the singing? She didn’t carry a tune worth jack.

  He knew her animation with the customers, and probably the cheerful singing, had something to do with watching Lizzy and Dessa play dress-up before she’d come to work, because he’d overheard part of her conversation with Marissa. He tried not to think about it, though, because something about Veronica’s wistfulness when she’d talked about the girls had grabbed him by the gut.