“No, no devil worshipping here. Just trying out a new look. Guess you don’t like it?” I arched a blonde brow in her direction and leaned back against the counter.
“Your natural color is so beautiful. Why do you keep changing it?”
Thankfully before I could come up with an excuse—every time she asked that, I came up with a new one, never the true answer—the front door swung open. A burst of cold, damp air blew through the stuffy bar, alerting everyone to the newcomer.
A man I’d never seen before stepped inside, shaking out his black coat as he closed the door behind him. Dressed in nice-looking slacks and a button-down shirt, he moved through the cluster of tables, past the pool table, and sat down on a barstool down the bar from where Janice and I stood gaping.
Okay, I was gaping. Janice was slurping to suck the final drops of her drink.
“Who’s that?” I whispered as I pushed off the back counter. Elbow on the bar, I rested my chin on my knuckles, blatantly staring at the stranger as he shrugged off his coat and laid it on the empty barstool to his right. When he was situated, he scanned the length of the bar until his gaze landed on me.
I held back the gasp of surprise when those ice blue eyes locked with mine. All the walls I’d built over the years crumbled, the restrained emotions I hid daily from others on full display with a single look from this mystery man. He held me in a trance, never glancing away as he seemed to read every memory, detail, and emotion from where he sat several feet away.
Janice’s voice was hollow and sounded far away even though only the bar separated us. He wasn’t the normal cult junkie who stopped in every now and again looking for details on what happened across the highway. No, this man was different in more ways than his casual good looks and piercing stare.
“I’ll be right back,” I muttered to the still talking Janice. My soles squeaked with each step. At the sink, I dunked my hands into the tepid water and retrieved a new bar towel.
I twisted the coarse rag in my hands as I continued my approach, moving slow to take in as much about him as I could. A sad smile lifted the corners of his lips, a sadness I understood. It was mixed with loneliness and maybe a hint of exhaustion, three emotions I knew all too well. That same gaze stared back at me in my own reflection daily.
Yet even with the sad smile, he was striking with his lean, scruffy cheeks, strong nose, and full lips. With the dim lighting and the almost buzz cut of his hair, it was impossible to determine the color. Add his good looks to the confident air about him and that all-seeing stare, and I was at a loss for words.
My lower belly twisted and tingled when I stopped in front of him. Beads of perspiration that weren’t there before he entered the bar dotted the back of my neck and turned my hands clammy.
Maybe someone turned on the heat?
I chanced a glance at the thermostat that was on my side of the bar, behind a plastic box that was secured with a lock.
Okay, maybe someone didn’t turn up the heat. But then what would cause this sudden hot flash and dry throat?
“Hi,” the man said as he interlaced his fingers and placed them palms-down on top of the bar.
“Hello.” The coarse weave of the rag scraped between my fingers as I nervously wove it between them beneath the bar.
Nerves had my gaze bouncing from him to the few other locals scattered throughout the small dive bar. Everyone had paused what they were doing, their attention on the man in front of me. One of Farmer Ben’s sons was still bent over the pool table, cue ready to strike a ball, frozen in place as he watched our interaction. His playing partner, one of Brett’s friends, had his eyes narrowed on the newcomer while he spoke into the phone glued to his ear.
“What do you want?” I asked, nervously wiping along the bar.
Like a switch was flipped, that sad smile changed, now full of humor like he was in on some inside joke I was left out of.
“You might want to work on your greeting skills.”
Pausing my wiping, I brought my other hand up to rest on my hip as I leaned against the dark wood of the bar. “Excuse me?”
“Your greeting. It needs work.” I arched a brow. Even though I should’ve been annoyed with his words, they were light with humor, holding zero animosity or anger. He gave me a quick once-over that left me feeling exposed. “You’re very hostile.” His damn smile grew when I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did I offend you…?”
I watched as his gaze dipped lower, this time more slowly, like he was memorizing every inch of my neck and chest. When his eyes stayed glued to my full chest, I subconsciously hunched my shoulders to make my large breasts seem smaller.
Panic flashed behind his eyes, which were now a bit frantic. “No, sorry. I wasn’t looking there, at your—” He waved a hand at my chest, which made me even more self-conscious. “—that. Shit. Sorry, I was looking for your name tag, but you’re not wearing one.”
“Because everyone knows who I am,” I responded, relaxing a fraction at his explanation.
“Benefits of a small town, I guess.”
I shrugged. “Benefit or detriment. Depends on the day, I guess.”
“Clever.” He sighed and slid both hands along the bar, spreading his arms out wide. “I’m in desperate need of a drink. Can we blame my earlier behavior on exhaustion? Hell, I might be sleepwalking right now.”
I dipped my chin with a small smile. “Wish I looked that good exhausted,” I muttered under my breath as I tossed the bar towel into the dirty rag bucket. Inhaling deeply, I steeled my spine and rolled my shoulders back to stand at my full five-foot-five height. Even with him sitting, he towered over me from his spot across the bar. But for some reason it didn’t intimidate me. No, instead it made me… sick?
Sick wasn’t the right word. Nervous, but a good nervous that made my stomach go all twisted. Or I was getting sick. That had to be the explanation. I’d never had as much as a single heart race or flash of excitement from a man. The flu or a cold was much more likely an explanation for my sudden onslaught of symptoms.
“Not a problem,” I said, wearing the fake smile I reserved for nosy outsiders. “What can I get you?” His lips parted, ready to give his order, when I held up a hand to stop him. “I will warn you that I don’t mix drinks unless it has two ingredients, such as vodka tonic or rum and cola, and even then I’ve been told they’re not great. Your best bet is a beer, or I make a killer white wine spritzer per my friend Janice.” I inclined my head down the bar where Janice sat clearly listening in.
She raised her empty glass and nodded. “And I’ll take a refill of that drink when you can.”
I nodded before turning back to the man with an expectant look.
“Beer. Budweiser in a bottle if you have it.”
I nodded and slipped the opener from my back pocket. The heavy metal twirled easily around my index finger as I made my way to the cooler.
“So you’re a bartender who doesn’t know how to make drinks?”
I snorted at his comment and immediately froze at the unconscious slip. Heart racing from the sudden bolt of panic, I stood as still as possible and closed my eyes. Grounding myself to the here and now, I focused all my senses on what surrounded me. The clatter of the pool balls, the low mumbled voices, the smell of bleach and yeast flooded through me as I absorbed the world around me. I was in the bar, not behind those gates with him. No one was here to punish me for that little slip. No one here cared if I snorted or laughed without permission.