All the Right Moves(9)

He’d chosen the ideal stool at the end of the bar. Although if he moved over one she’d be in his line of sight at all times. At the moment he couldn’t see her lower half. Just as well. He wasn’t trolling. And even if he was, she wasn’t giving him an interested vibe.

She did intrigue him, though. He wasn’t accustomed to a woman trying to get rid of him, and now he was curious about the whole Q&A thing she had going on. Was she that knowledgeable? Or was it just a parlor trick? They sure hung on to her answers.

Using the back of her wrist to brush a curl off her flushed cheek, she looked up, her narrowed gaze panning the room. “All right, who ordered the piña colada?”

John glanced over his shoulder.

A hand slowly raised. With a wince, the last woman to come in said, “It’s me, Cassie. But if it’s too much trouble, that’s okay.”

“Oh, that’s right. You just got back from Hawaii.” Cassie thought for a moment, her lips pursed.

John stared too long at her lush mouth and had a reaction he wasn’t prepared for. He shifted positions on the wooden bar stool. What the hell was wrong with him?

Cassie bent over and pulled out cans of tomato and cranberry juice. “Sorry, Beth. I don’t have all the ingredients.”

“Never mind. Really. Make it my usual.”

Cassie straightened. “I’ll pick up the right mixes and you can have one the next time you come in.”

“Please, don’t worry about it. You have enough on your plate this month.”

Cassie just smiled and went back to pouring drinks. He’d bet the next time the woman ordered a piña colada she’d get it. As if it mattered what he’d bet. He didn’t know the bartender from the woman who delivered his laundry.

The door opened again, letting in heat, and two men wearing jeans and blue uniform shirts. Grease smeared their faces and arms. More of the dart-playing mechanics, evidently. This was the damnedest assortment of people. The only thing the different groups seemed to have in common was Cassie and not gambling.

She shook her head at the newcomers. “Really, guys? You couldn’t have washed up first?” She jerked a thumb toward the back. “Go use some soap.”

They grumbled, insisted they had tried to clean up, but did as she ordered.

John smiled, and for a second he caught her eye. She blinked, then looked down at the pitcher she was filling, and he polished off his beer.

“You want another?” she asked a minute later, grabbing a towel and drying her hands on her way over to him. “Or are you ready to settle up?”

“You really are trying to get rid of me.”

She raised her eyebrows. Her lips parted, closed, then she said, “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“Okay.” He leaned back, studying her face. She was good. She didn’t give anything away. “Go ahead...in your own words.”

Her abrupt laugh caught him off guard. “I was trying to be considerate. This place can get rough as the evening goes on.”

“So you don’t think I can take care of myself?”

She ran a gaze over his shoulders, did a thorough job of checking out his chest and then lingered on his belly. Maybe even a little lower. “You’d do all right.”

“Cassie,” someone yelled. “These pretzels are stale.”

“Well, Steve, you should’ve come yesterday when they weren’t.” She ignored the opportunity to break away and, in fact, didn’t even look at the guy complaining. Or at the others who laughed. Instead she’d moved back up to John’s face and stared as if she were trying to figure him out.

He slid the empty mug toward her. “You don’t strike me as someone who’d let things get out of control.”

“You’ve been here, what? All of thirty...forty minutes, and you know this about me?”

“I’m a good judge of character.”

“So am I.” With a faint enigmatic smile, she picked up the mug and started toward her station.

“You can use the same one,” he said, noticing a slight sway to her hips.

“Oh, I planned on it.” She didn’t look back, just flung the words out into the universe knowing they’d hit their mark.

He chuckled, but his amusement fled when the two guys she’d sent to wash up returned and took stools at the bar. Damn it. He didn’t want to share her. Not that he had a say. Already the waitress was back with more orders to fill. Cassie automatically popped open bottles of Corona and set them in front of the mechanics while she waited for the foam to settle on John’s draft.