All the Right Moves(7)

“I have plenty of that. What kind?”

“Whatever’s on tap.”

“You sure? We have the imported stuff.”

“Tap is fine. What about food?”

She picked up the scotch, frowning at him. Okay, now he was just messing with her. “What about it?”

“Uh...” His eyebrows went up and there was no missing the amusement in his brown eyes. “Do you serve any?”

Was he crazy? If they did, would he eat in a place like this? “We have pretzels for sure, maybe some peanuts. On the house, but that’s it.”

She moved back to her station. As much as she hated to admit it, looking directly into his eyes sparked something inside her that was unsettling. It wasn’t as if she thought the sensation meant anything. He wasn’t just an eleven out of ten, he seemed nice, and she kind of wished he wasn’t. It was so much easier to ignore the ones who were full of themselves.

Cassie found the pretzels right away because she’d put out bowls earlier for the guys in the back. Sadly, she had only three clean mugs left. Sighing, she grabbed one and stuck it under the spout, started a slow stream of beer, then stretched over to the sink and turned on the hot water.

What the hell was taking Lisa so long? Cassie would need her help before the hospital changed shifts and customers piled in. The beer foamed over the mug, and she tipped it to get rid of some of the head. She’d already given him rotgut scotch. She didn’t want to replace it with froth.

She stopped to add dish detergent to the water, then carried his pretzels and beer to him. “If you still want a tab I’ll start one. I’m not charging you for the scotch.”

“Yes, you are.” His dark brows dipped. “You warned me. Fair is fair.”

She set down the draft, and he touched her hand, though she didn’t think he meant to. But she would’ve missed the cocktail napkin if he hadn’t moved it to accommodate her. The skin around her knuckles was dry and unattractive from washing too many glasses without gloves, and she hated that she noticed. What she did like was that he insisted on paying for the scotch. Even her regulars tried to mooch free beer.

“So? A tab?” She slid the pretzels toward him, keeping her gaze on the tables.

“Yep.”

“All righty, then.” Turning to get her pad at the other end, she dragged her palms down the front of her jeans.

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you have going on back there besides pool?”

She hesitated, hoping he didn’t decide to go poking around. Spider and his gang wouldn’t cause trouble. They might make an off-color remark, but only in fun. It was Tommy she didn’t trust. “Intrigue. Desperate deeds. Things that would shock you to your soul.”

“Really?”

“Or as we like to call it, darts. And barely enough room for the gang of mechanics that took it over an hour ago. Sorry.”

“Damn. I was primed for danger.” The corners of his mouth twitched as if he knew she was trying to discourage him.

“Boy, have you picked the wrong bar.” She smiled, knowing she wouldn’t see him again.

“What’s your name?”

“Cassie.” She noticed how his long tanned fingers fit all the way around the mug. He had nice hands, clean, trimmed nails. “The waitress is Lisa if you want another beer and can’t get my attention.”

“You’ll get that busy?”

“Oh, yeah. Any minute now.”

He glanced around the mostly empty room. “I’m John,” he said as she headed back to her station. “For my tab.”

She nodded without looking back. His smoky baritone was enough to fire up her nerve endings. She wondered if he’d given her his real name, or if it was one he used for pizza deliveries. John seemed too plain for a man who looked like him. She’d expected something more dashing, maybe an unusual family name.

She wrote down his beer, stashed the slip with the other two tabs beside the register and looked up just as Lisa returned from the back. She shook her head, the usual signal for “don’t ask.”

Then Cassie heard the door open, followed by a burst of voices and laughter. It was the hospital gang. Sighing, she closed her textbook and put it away, not looking forward to getting off work then spending the rest of the night studying.

* * *

JOHN HEARD THE VOICES, felt a blast of desert air at his back and turned. At first he’d thought someone had held the door open too long, but people kept coming inside the cool dim bar. The majority wore scrubs, a few still had their hospital IDs hanging from around their necks. Two guys went straight to Cassie while the others claimed three tables in the corner near the No Trespassing sign that hung on the wood-paneled wall.