by Debbie Mason
It might just work. But she wouldn’t give Ty the satisfaction of telling him so. She didn’t like being strong-armed by anyone. Not even a friend. Make that three friends. “I’m not seducing him. I’m asking him…to accompany me to the prom…as a friend. Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Jilly Bean. Just remember, soft and sweet,” he said, leading her to the sports bar.
Alicia Key’s “Girl on Fire” greeted them as he opened the door. Jill stood stock-still, momentarily frozen with nerves. Ty lightly shoved her inside. She didn’t need to look behind the long bar with its high-back black leather bar stools to know the man himself was there. She felt him, sensed his presence like she always did.
The room was crowded. Not surprising since it was a Friday night. There was a hockey game playing on the screen behind the bar. Several couples were on the wood-planked dance floor while two busty blondes sat to the left of the jukebox on a white bench enclosed by white-and-black-painted boards with an electronic clock affixed above. It was the penalty box for which the bar was named. Sawyer routinely put customers in there for causing trouble. Given the time on the clock, the women had obviously been given a major. She wondered if it was for excessive flirting with the owner.
Jill scratched her neck. She shouldn’t be here. As though Ty sensed she was about to make a run for it, he grabbed her hand and started singing along with Alicia Keys. Jill couldn’t help it; she started to laugh. She sensed someone’s eyes upon her and glanced at the bar. Sawyer was watching her while he mixed a drink. He cocked his head, a slow smile spreading across his face, deepening the dimple in his cheek, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. It was the first time he’d ever looked at her that way, and Jill’s heart almost jumped out of her chest.
Sawyer Anderson was flirting with her. The long hours she’d spent being made over suddenly felt worth it. But when he looked away to slide the drink to a customer, she gave her head a slight shake. Of course he wasn’t flirting with her. She must have misinterpreted the look… He glanced at her, nodding to the empty stool at the end of the bar. The heat that seconds ago had touched her cheeks spread.
“Oh. My. God. He’s totally hitting on you. Hurry up, go sit at the bar before someone takes your place. I’ll be right there. I just want to text Diva and tell her the news. Go make me proud,” Ty said, giving her another light shove.
Panicked, Jill grabbed his hand. “Text Chloe later. I need you with me.” Now that Sawyer appeared interested, she wasn’t sure what to do with him.
Chapter Six
Sawyer was mixing a martini when the lady in red walked into the bar. Women walked in and out of his bar all the time, but there was something about this one that held his attention. And it wasn’t her exceptional long legs in the red stilettos or the way the fabric of the dress she wore clung to her body and emphasized her curves. She seemed familiar.
But there’s no way he’d forget that face. She wasn’t a typical beauty. She was exotic-looking, stunning. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, a slight bump on the bridge of an aquiline nose, her lips full, her chin strong. He’d always had a thing for blondes, but she had him rethinking his preference. Her bold features were framed by long, raven-black hair.
Ty stood behind her, saying something that made her laugh. She had a great laugh. And once again Sawyer had a feeling he knew her. Maybe she was one of the hairstylist’s Hollywood friends—an actress or model. That would explain why she looked familiar.
As though she sensed him watching her, she lifted her startling blue gaze. It felt like he’d tossed back a shot of absinthe; his world tilted, a fire spreading inside. The reaction wasn’t one he’d experienced in a while. Lately he’d been going through the motions. Flirting enough to keep the ladies happy, but not enough to give them hope for more. He was tired of one-night stands and meaningless relationships. He was on the other side of thirty-six and ready to settle down. But he hadn’t met a woman who interested him. This one did.
His years behind the bar had made him something of an expert on people. He was good at sizing them up. If he had to take a guess, he’d say by the definition in her arms and legs, the lady in red was in great shape, confident in her ability to take care of herself. But maybe not so confident with the social scene. There was a wary tension in the way she held herself. He’d noticed it when she looked around the bar. He’d also seen the sharp intelligence in her eyes. She was nobody’s fool. Intrigued, he cocked his head and smiled at her. He wanted to know more.
She responded to his obvious interest with a startled blink, and her cheeks flushed. His smile widened at the hint of nerves. He was right. At least he hoped he was. He’d be disappointed if she ended up being like the women he met lately. Women like Tiffany who didn’t have a clue about the game he loved or were more interested in talking about themselves and their latest shopping expedition.
He slid the martini down the bar to his waiting customer, then glanced back at the lady in red. He raised a questioning eyebrow, nodding to the empty seat at the end of the bar. Sheer panic crossed her face, and she looked ready to bolt. Okay, that wasn’t a reaction he was accustomed to. And he was surprised by his own. At the level of disappointment he felt at the thought she planned to leave. When she grabbed Ty by the hand, half-dragging him toward the bar, Sawyer released a relieved breath. Seconds later he was holding back a laugh. He doubted he had to worry about her talking about fashion for the next hour. She walked in her high heels as though they were her mother’s.
The customer across from him held up his glass. “Another scotch on the rocks.”
“Sorry about that,” Sawyer said, turning to grab a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label off the glass shelf behind him. It wasn’t often that he didn’t anticipate a customer’s needs before they did. The lady in red was proving to be a distraction.
He was pouring the scotch when she plunked herself down on the stool. Sawyer glanced at her, smiled, and said, “Hi.”
She lifted her chin. “Hey, Sawyer.”
His jaw dropped. That was Jill’s voice coming from the lady in red’s mouth. A woman who intrigued him, a woman who he’d been fantasizing about sounded like his best friend’s baby sister. He was having an out-of-body experience.
“What the hell…”
Sawyer’s eyes jerked back to his customer. Jesus. He stopped pouring and grabbed the glass overflowing with scotch. “Sorry, buddy. Next one’s on the house.” Sawyer turned away and set the bottle on the counter, and then, without thinking, tossed the scotch in the sink. Great, his bottom line just took a forty-dollar hit.
He briefly closed his eyes and drew a calming breath through his nose. He’d never needed calming breaths before. He was easygoing, unflappable. At least he had been until the lady… He opened his eyes, looking at her in the mirrored glass. There was no way she was Jill.
“You have got to be kidding me. What a baby. McCann barely touched him,” she said, grabbing a handful of peanuts.
Sawyer swore under his breath. It was Jill. And he didn’t need Ty hissing her name and elbowing her to know that it was.
“You watching the same game I am, lady? Because McCann slashed him,” Black Label said.
“Oh, please. He was in the crease and bumped McCann. Let me guess, you’re a Dallas fan,” she said, making a face.
Sawyer shot her a shut-it look, wiping down the bar before handing Black Label his scotch. Then he moved to stand in front of Jill, unable to keep from staring.
Ty grinned. “She looks gorgeous, doesn’t she?”
Yeah, but that was beside the point. “What’s with the dress, wig, and colored contacts? Is there a costume party in town?”
“No, there’s not a costume party in town.” Ty glared at him, lifting a lock of her hair while Jill stared at the television screen. “These are extensions. Expensive ones, I might add. And why would she wear contacts? She has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”
Sawyer had known her si
nce she was five. If she had eyes the color of the ocean, he would know that, wouldn’t he? As if in answer, his gaze dropped to the creamy skin filling out the ruffled neckline of her dress, and then he thought of those long, shapely legs in the red stilettos. He’d done his best to ignore the changes the other day on the boardwalk, but now it was next to impossible. Jill had grown up, and he’d missed the memo.
He’d missed something else; her cheeks were red and she wouldn’t look at him. He knew women well enough to realize he hadn’t just embarrassed her, he’d hurt her feelings. It wasn’t her fault that he felt like an ass for flirting with her. “Shortstop”—she drew those startling blue eyes from the screen—“you look beautiful,” he said. “Do you have a big date?”
“Oh yes, she does. Or she will once—” Ty broke off, grimacing when she elbowed him in the ribs.
Sawyer wished he hadn’t asked. With Jill looking the way she did right now, it was difficult to think of her as his best friend’s sister. She was still the lady in red. The woman he’d wanted to get to know. He told himself what he’d told anyone who’d been interested in Jill over the years. Back off, buddy. She’s off limits. “What can I get you two to drink?”
“Two Divas,” Ty said, sliding into Black Label’s seat when the other man got up to leave.
Sawyer frowned. “Jill doesn’t drink.”
“Of course she does. Everyone drinks.”
Not Jill, and it wasn’t only because her mother had been an alcoholic. Jill didn’t like to lose control.
“You know, I am right here. I can speak for myself. I’ll take a soda, thanks,” she said without looking at him.
Guess he still had some making up to do. “I have something else I want you to try instead. You know the sports drink you sampled last month? I took your advice, and I’m going to take it to market. Tweaked it a bit, too.”
She perked up. “Yeah? What did you add, cinnamon or ginger?”
“I’ll let you tell me,” he said, taking a quick scan of the bar before heading for the refrigerator in the back room. He’d been going to ask her opinion anyway, and it had nothing to do with getting back in her good graces. If it wasn’t for Jill, he wouldn’t have investigated the idea of developing a sports drink in the first place.
When he returned with the container, she was behind the bar.
“Sorry, no more whiskey for you. You’re cut off,” Jill said to one of Sawyer’s regulars.
“Boyo, she’s cut four of us off. And she won’t serve Jimmy,” added Mr. Murray, another of his regulars and a Flaherty family friend.
“Because he doesn’t have any ID, and he looks like he’s twelve,” she defended herself.
“He’s twenty-three,” Sawyer said. “Now why don’t you sit down and sample the drink before you put me out of business.”
“Hey, I was protecting your license.” She stepped closer and went up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Mr. Murray’s gout’s acting up, and Jerry and whiskey aren’t a good combination. I got called to his place twice this week. That’s why I cut them off.”
With the feel of her chest pressed to his and the smell of her light floral scent, he was having a hard time staying focused. He cleared his throat. “And the other two?”
“The girls you put in the penalty box. They were dancing on a table.”
“Okay, good call.”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” she said, her brow furrowing as she looked toward the end of the bar where Ty sat. The hairstylist mouthed something to her, and her shoulders rose on a sigh. She wound her hair around her finger and gave Sawyer a wide smile.
Jill. This is Jill, he reminded himself. “Here.” He shoved the sports drink into her hand. “You, uh, should probably go sit down.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll do that.” She glanced once more at Ty and nodded, having a little trouble unwinding her hair from her finger. Once she did, she pushed out her chest and walked away, swinging her hips. She tripped on the rubber runner behind the bar. “Dammit,” she muttered. Placing her drink on the bar, she bent over and took off the stilettos.
Sawyer stared at her heart-shaped ass. Jill had been hiding more than her long legs and what appeared to be a nice pair of breasts. Someone cleared their throat. He looked over his shoulder to see Mr. Murray grinning at him. “I’ll take that drink now,” the older man said.
“You’re cut off, remember?”
“Jackson’s awfully protective of his baby sister, isn’t he? You two still best friends? I wonder how he’d feel—”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes at the old man and got him his drink, his watered-down drink. He set the glass on the bar. “If your gout starts acting up, you’ve got only yourself to blame.” He lowered his voice. “And I’m not interested in Jill. Not like that.”
“How come? Something wrong with your eyesight?”
“No, I—” He broke off at the sound of someone moaning at the other end of the bar. Afraid it was who he thought it was, he prepared himself before slowly turning his head. Brilliant blue eyes locked with his.
“Oh, Sawyer, this is soo good. It’s the perfect combo of spicy and sweet,” Jill said, her voice huskier than normal. Something had happened to her hair, too. She looked like she’d just been…
“What’s…” he cleared his throat “…going on with you?”
She fluttered her lashes and ran her fingernail along the deep V of her dress. “It’s the drink. It gave me a rush.” Ty said something to her. She pursed her lips, then waved her hand in front of her face. “I’m all tingly and hot. Really, really hot.”
“Forget the whiskey. I’ll take whatever she’s drinking,” Mr. Murray said.
Sawyer ignored him and stared at Jill. He didn’t know what she was playing at, and she was definitely playing at something. She gave him a flirty finger wave. Jesus, she was flirting with him. No, couldn’t be. It wasn’t her style. He glanced at Ty because it was his style. “All right, out with it. What are you two up to?”
Ty nudged her.
Jill scowled at Ty while scratching her neck and wriggling her shoulders. Just as Sawyer was about to prompt her again, she looked up at him from under her fake eyelashes. “I was wondering if…” She cleared her throat. “I was…” She trailed off when a fight broke out on the dance floor. She swiveled her bar stool and jumped off, about to head in that direction.
Ty grabbed her by the arm. “No, you promised!”
“I can’t just let them…” Jill began, wincing when a man stepped between the women to break them up and got kneed in the groin. She shook off Ty’s hand.
“Jill, I’ve got it. You—” Sawyer sighed. She was already halfway across the bar. He couldn’t help but smile when she barked an order at the two women now rolling around in the middle of the dance floor. She hauled them to their feet, flattening a palm on their foreheads to keep them apart as she read them their rights. Sawyer laughed at the cheerful expression on her face. No doubt about it, she loved her job. And that was the Jill he knew. The one he was comfortable dealing with.
Ty slid off his bar stool with a disappointed look on his face, reaching in his back pocket to pull out his wallet.
“Don’t worry about it, Ty. Jill covered both your drinks playing bouncer.”
Ty sighed and started to follow her out the door, then backtracked. “You know what? You should name a drink after her.” He opened his cell phone and handed it to Sawyer. A picture of Jill filled the screen. She was standing in front of her Jeep, the sun setting behind the Rockies in the distance. She held her gun in one hand, her badge in the other. “Hot Cop works, don’t you think?”
Yeah. A little too well.
Chapter Seven
Jill watched as her fairy godfather stomped out of the station with his wings in a twist. Suze wasn’t happy with her, either. Blonde One and Blonde Two were the only ones who hadn’t given her grief. They sat in the chairs in front of Jill’s desk, quietly sipping extra-strong coffee.
“Okay, your cab should be here a
ny minute. But I’m warning you, if this happens again, I’ll charge you with drunk and disorderly,” Jill told the women. They didn’t have any priors, and once she’d gotten them out of the bar, they’d apologized to her and each other for their behavior.
“We promise, it won’t happen again. Now that we know Sawyer’s not interested, we’ll go to the Garage or some other bar,” Blonde One said.
“Uh, my warning goes for any bar, not just the Penalty Box,” Jill said. “You shouldn’t be drinking to the point you lose control. It’s not safe.”
“Tonight was a one-off,” Blonde Two said, leaning across the desk. “We kinda had this plan. Sawyer’s like real protective of his female customers, you know. So we thought, let’s get wasted and he’ll have to bring us home.”
Jill stared at her.
Blonde One nodded. “And Brandi wasn’t there to toss us out on our heinies. But then you showed up.”
“Yeah. We were like huh, he’s interested in her,” Blonde Two said, then her eyes went wide. “Not like in a bad way or anything. You’re just not his usual type.”
When Suze’s head popped up from behind her computer screen, no doubt to listen in, Jill said, “Your cab’s probably here by now, ladies. Just leave your mugs—”
“Nope, not yet,” Suze said. “So Sawyer was interested in our girl here, was he?”
Blonde Two turned in her chair to face Suze. “Like mega. It was kinda depressing, you know? We heard blondes with big boobs did it for him, and then she walks in with dark hair and no boobs, and we’re like, what the hey?”
“What the hey, yourself. I have boobs.” Dammit, what was she doing? Suze laughed, and Blonde Two apologized. Jill was saved from making a bigger idiot of herself by a horn blasting outside. “There’s your ride, ladies. Time to go.” She stood up and removed the coffee mugs from their hands. Once she’d seen them safely into the cab, she came back into the station and said to Suze, “That was not helpful and totally inappropriate.”