by Desiree Holt
“Puhleeze.” Holly rolled her eyes, even though Adara couldn’t see her. “How trashy can you get?”
“It’s far from trashy, chickadee, and rumor has it there’s a band on the weekend.” She paused. “Or at least a duo. Whatever. Anyway, I’m tired of my own company tonight, so get ready. I am not above breaking into your apartment and dragging you out however you look.”
Holly sighed. Adara was truly capable of doing just that. And maybe a night out was what she needed to get Mr. Hot Guy out of her mind.
“Okay, okay. I’ll go get ready. Just don’t expect me to be entertaining.”
“God forbid. See you in a few.”
Chapter 6
“I have no idea why I let you talk me into this,” Holly griped as she followed Adara toward the entrance of El Caliente. She waved a hand around the parking lot. “Look how jammed it is. We almost couldn’t find a place to squeeze in your car.”
“Told you it was popular,” Adara reminded her.
“You know how I hate mob scenes. Plus, all the guys will be drunk and grabby.”
“The thing I like about you,” Adara said as they inched between vehicles, “is your open and embracing feeling about things. Your joy at being with people.”
“Har har har. I’ll get a headache from the noise, some idiot will pinch my ass, I’ll throw a drink at him, there will be a big fight, and we’ll all go home wishing we’d stayed there in the first place.”
Adara burst out laughing. “Wow! What a description. I’m already having a good time and we haven’t even gotten inside yet. Way to go, you party animal.”
Holly made a rude sound and yanked open the heavy wooden door. Noise spilled out of the interior, a combination of multiple conversations and music. The decorations were festively Mexican, with brightly colored pictures, pieces of pottery sitting in wall niches, and a colorful stuffed parrot hanging from the ceiling at one end of the bar. The place was wall-to-wall people. Every high-top table was jammed, the surfaces covered with nachos and chips and drink glasses. People were elbow to elbow, all of them laughing and shouting to be heard over the din.
“We’ll never get a place to sit,” Holly complained. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“We have a place. Look. Over there.” She pointed to the far corner where three women were standing in protective mode around a table. Holly recognized them as nurses Adara worked with at the hospital. When they spotted Holly and Adara, they waved.
“Come on.” Adara took her arm. “You don’t want to waste those skinny jeans and that hot silk T-shirt.”
Holly let Adara drag her through the crowd to the table where the three women waited. There was hardly any space to move so she found herself holding her breath as she slid between bodies, trying not to touch anyone’s embarrassing parts. She could have sworn someone pinched her ass, but it was impossible to turn around and look. Finally they reached the table and she let out a breath.
“Aren’t they breaking the fire code or something?” She looked around the room, amazed to see even more people pushing their way in from the doorway.
“I hope not.” The woman whose name she remembered as Faith giggled. “I’d hate for them to close the place before the night even starts.”
“I’m sure they’ve got a handle on it,” Adara assured her. “I suppose we have to squeeze up to the bar to get a drink?”
Faith nodded. “If you want one sooner rather than later. They’ve got a couple of barmaids working the room, but it’s hard for them to get through, and there’s just too many people to take care of.”
Holly looked around. “How did this place get so hot so fast? I thought it just opened.”
“It did. But it seems there are a couple of guys who make it their business to check out new places and recommend them. Nothing they get paid for, just a hobby of theirs. They posted about this on Facebook. I hear it’s been jammed every night since.”
“Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, I really need a drink.” Holly looked at Adara. “I’ll get the first round. Name your poison.”
“Supposedly they’ve got killer margaritas. See if they have those large glasses. It’ll save trips to the bar.”
“Coming right up. If I’m not back in an hour, look and see if I’ve been trampled to death.”
Working her way to the bar wasn’t any easier than getting to the table had been. Again she sucked in her stomach as hard as she could and eased her way carefully between the tightly packed bodies. She did her best to avoid groping hands and wandering fingers, and finally she reached the bar that ran along one wall. It was as jammed as the rest of the place, but she managed to squeeze in between two people.
“Just leave me room to breathe,” the woman on her right said.
“Gotcha.” Holly blew out a breath. “Man, I thought they were giving the drinks away when I first walked in here.”
“Isn’t it crazy? This is the fourth time I’ve been here, and it’s been like this every time. Oh. Here’s the bartender. We’d better grab him while we can.”
Holly finally managed to get two large margaritas. She asked for them in highball glasses despite Adara’s request, figuring they’d be easier to handle that way. Then, sucking in her breath again and holding the drinks up to avoid spilling, if possible, she began to make her way back to the table. Of course, nothing was ever smooth-going.
“Hey, sweetness. Are you my appetizer for tonight?”
A tall, muscular man in a polo shirt and jeans stepped away from his friends to block her path.
Holly glared at him. “Not only am I not your appetizer, you’ll be needing some very important replacement parts if you don’t get out of my way.”
“Ooh!” He wiggled his fingers and widened his eyes. “Tough lady. I am so scared. Come on, let’s share those drinks.”
“Only if I dump them on your head.” Gripping the glasses tightly, she maneuvered around to hip check him at his crotch.
“Hey!” Anger suffused his face. “I was just being friendly.”
She pushed again, shoving him against his friends. “Get friendly with someone else.”
“Forget it, Fred,” his friend said. “We’ll find someone else. You don’t need this bitch.”
He glared at her for one long second before turning so his back was to her. Very carefully she continued to wiggle her way back to her table, where she handed Adara her drink. Holly downed a healthy slug of hers before putting the glass on the table.
“Damn, Adara. You didn’t tell me we were going to a meat market. You know how I feel about them.”
“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Honest, Holly, you need to loosen up a little and find someone to date besides those metrosexuals you come up with.”
“And I won’t find them here? Give me a break.” She took another swallow of her margarita. “But I do have to say this is probably the best damn margarita I’ve had in a long time.”
“Think of it as just a place to hang out with a lot of people,” Adara corrected. “No meat unless you want to. I know, I know,” she added when Holly opened her mouth. “You don’t want to. Aren’t you ready to get out of your dry spell yet?”
Holly just shook her head. They were having to shout to be heard, and she sure didn’t want her business broadcast all over El Caliente.
“Forget it.” She raised her voice enough so Adara could hear her. “You got me out of the house for a drink. I’m out of the house.” She pointed her glass at her friend. “I’m having a drink. Case closed.”
“We’ll see.”
She lifted her glass to take a sip and someone jostled her from behind. The liquid sloshed over the rim and dribbled onto the front of her blouse. Great. Just great. She looked down and saw the thin silk was plastered to her bra, the lace edging visible, not to mention her nipples and the upper swell of her breasts. Crap. She set her glass down, shook the excess liquid from her hand, and grabbed a couple of napkins from the pile ne
xt to a large basket of tortilla chips.
“Damn, damn, damn.” She blotted ineffectively at the fabric of her blouse. “Crap. I’ll bet this will stain.”
“Here.” Adara set her own drink down. “Let me see if I can do better.”
“No. Don’t bother.” She crumpled the napkins and tossed them on the crowded tabletop. “I’ll have to tunnel my way to the ladies’ room and put some water on it. Maybe I can take the blouse off and hold it under the hand dryer.”
Shit, shit, shit.
“I’ll come with.” Adara wiped her hands on the cocktail napkin. “I can help.”
Holly held up her hand. “I’m good. Just let me—” She shook her head. “I’ll take care of it.”
As she pushed her way through the crush of bodies, doing her best once more to avoid wandering hands and casual touches, she cursed herself for being stupid enough to give in to Adara. She should have stayed home where she was perfectly content, made popcorn, and watched a movie. No crowds, no noise, no spilled drinks. No grabby hands. Next time she’d know better than to answer her phone.
* * * *
“I have no idea why I let you talk me into this,” Chase grumbled, following John and Amy into the latest hot spot in town. “You know places like this are not my cup of tea.”
“Maybe it’s time you changed your flavor of tea, Chase,” Amy teased. “Everyone needs to have fun once in a while.”
“I have fun,” he protested, turning sideways to inch between two parked vehicles. “This is not fun. And I’ll bet inside I’ll have even less fun.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Maybe you might even get lucky.”
He wanted to tell her he never got lucky. Luck had turned its back on him where women were concerned.
So what the hell am I doing here tonight?
He used to love places like this when he was in the Academy. Of course, that was B. C.—Before Cheryl. Now they were just noise and the unpleasant crush of bodies. If he could have refused to come along without offending Amy, he would have done so. The last thing in the world he was in the mood for was a bar packed with noisy half-in-the-bag people out celebrating Friday night.
Big mistake not nipping it at tonight’s workout, when John brought it up. Chase was torn between being rude and dissing his friends. Oh, well, he’d thought, what could it hurt?
He should have known. When he yanked open the heavy wooden door and was assaulted by the heat and the sound, he wanted to turn and run back to his truck. Oh, wait, he didn’t have his truck. He’d been dumb enough to agree to ride with John and Amy. Maybe he could find a corner somewhere and get quietly drunk.
The scene was everything he’d expected—and dreaded. People laughing and shouting at each other to be heard, packed in so tightly there was hardly room to walk between or around them. Music blared from somewhere deep in the bar, but it was hard to tell if it was any good or not. For a moment Chase was seized with the need to turn and run as fast as he could, anywhere but here. But then John nudged him from behind and with great reluctance, he moved forward.
There were no tables or booths available anywhere. In fact there was hardly any standing room left at the high-top tables already occupied. He discovered the music was coming from the far corner of the room where two musicians were competing with the crowd’s noise to be heard. Apparently no one cared if they could hear or not, because the postage stamp dance floor was so full there was hardly any floor visible.
He needed a drink. Badly. Something to take the edge off his nerves that were already doing a jitterbug beneath his skin. Next time he’d tell John and Amy he was having a frontal lobotomy, which he might need before tonight was over, anyway.
“The others will never find us in here.” He had to raise his voice for John to hear him.
“Yeah, then we’ll spot them, checking out the women.”
“Always supposing we even find a place to plant ourselves.
“Here. Over here.” John grabbed his arm and nudged him toward one end of the bar, tugging Amy along with his free hand. “I think we can squeeze in there.
Squeeze was certainly the operative word. Somehow John managed to wedge them all in there, placing Amy in front of him and wrapping his body around her. Chase concentrated on waving down the bartender, who he was sure had roller skates on and four pairs of hands.
“Margaritas,” John yelled in his ear. “I heard they’re the best on planet Earth.”
Chase just nodded, and when he finally corralled the bartender, placed the order for three of the frosty cocktails. He was usually a conservative drinker, but when the glasses were set down in front of them, he grabbed his and took a healthy swallow. When he set his glass down, he hunched over it, protecting it from the people jostling him on either side. He was doing his best to ignore John and Amy, who were stuck together behind him. He’d just taken another swallow of his drink when a voice shouted in his ear.
“Hey, Chase, can you get a couple of those for us?”
He turned his head enough to see Len Mancini and his fiancée crowding against him. He nodded, tight-lipped, and turned his attention to snagging the bartender again. He’d get a second one for himself too while he was at it. He wasn’t driving tonight, so if he got uncharacteristically blitzed, John and Amy could tote him home and pour him into his place.
By the time he’d finished his second drink, the fourth member of their little clan, Teddy Fiore, had arrived, and was, as he said, “Thirsty and horny, and not necessarily in that order.” Chase signaled the bartender for their drinks and ordered a rare third one. He had managed to soften the edge of his irritation, the music and conversation didn’t seem quite so loud, and the tension was slowly beginning to ease from his body.
He nursed his third drink while John and Len tried to find room on the dance floor with their ladies, but they were back before Chase had taken more than two swallows.
“Insanity,” Len Mancini said. But neither he nor his fiancée seemed to mind, since he gave her a big smooch.
Teddy was leaning back against the bar in the few inches of space he managed to capture, visually trolling the crowd. Chase thought Teddy was one of the biggest horn dogs he’d ever met, but it wasn’t his business. He liked the guy, and he was both a good friend and a good Coastie, so he ignored everything else.
He was just about to take a sip of his third drink (probably his last, if he was smart) when he happened to glance to his left and his jaw nearly hit the floor. He blinked, twice, just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Nope, it was her. Holly Funchess. Miss Sass. Right there in this madhouse. And holy shit! Tonight her hair was down in soft waves falling to her shoulders, and the jeans and top she wore showed off a figure that he was sure every man in the place was drooling over.
He wondered what she was doing here. She didn’t look any too happy about her situation. Had she been dragged here by friends, too? She stood for a moment, frowning, looking around the room. Was she looking for her friends? Had they left without her? That would suck big time.
Then two things happened. He saw the exact moment she spotted him, her jaw dropping slightly, and a frown creasing her forehead. And a guy big enough to be an NFL linebacker squeezed over to her and tried to put his arm around her. She recoiled in shock and tried to move away, but there was no place for her to go. As Chase watched, the man tried to pull her into the crowd with him. When there was no room to move, his face reddened with frustration and his arm tightened around her. Holly pushed hard at him, but he was the immovable object. He watched her try to free herself, try to jab her elbow into him, but his grip on her was too strong.
Chase sighed. Okay, that was his cue, no matter how hard he told himself not to get involved. He set his drink down on the bar and began the tortuous job of inching through the crowd to get to where Holly and the man were standing. He kept his eyes on her the entire time, making sure the two of them never moved from that spot. People swore at him as he shoved between bo
dies, and some even punched his arm, but he kept going.
Finally he was there. When he saw how the man’s fingers dug into Holly’s upper arm, his temper spiked. Despite what had happened with his mother, his father had taught him always to respect women. Actions like this enraged him. He was glad now that he worked out so much and kept his body in top shape. Closing his fingers around the big man’s wrist, he pressed hard on the spot that he knew would send pain shooting up his arm.
“Hey!” the man shouted at him, his face turning red as the pressure forced his fingers to loosen their grip. “Leggo of me.”
Chase put his lips as close as he could get to the man’s ears. “Keep your damn hands to yourself and get away from my date.”
Whether it was the pressure on the nerve center of the wrist or shock at the words, the man let go instantly. Chase pulled Holly toward him and wrapped an arm around her. She stared at him in shock but went along with the play.
“Fucking bitch came on to me,” the man said.
“I saw the whole thing.” Chase took a step back, or as much as he could, bringing Holly with him. “It’s all on you, buddy. One hundred percent. Better cool it or I’ll have you thrown out.”
He eased through the edge of the crowd back into the short hallway that Holly had appeared from. It took several apologies as they inched their way through the press of bodies, but finally they reached the rear door and a few inches of clear space. He released Holly and took a step back.
“Thank you.” She rubbed her arms.
Chase could already see the reddened marks of fingerprints blossoming on her skin, and it made him want to go back and punch the guy’s face. “No problem.”
“He just came out of nowhere. What he said. I didn’t—”
“I know. I saw the whole thing.”
“You did?” Her eyes widened. “Well, thanks for coming to my rescue.”
There it was again, that hint of the South in her voice. He wondered where she was from? Not San Diego, for sure.