Colters' Daughter (Colters' Legacy #3)(2)

“I’m beginning to think you have anger management issues, Callie,” Paul Woodrow drawled as he leaned against the bar next to her.

Callie scowled at the part-time bartender. Nice of him to show up now. If he’d been to work on time, she wouldn’t have been here when Max came in.

“I didn’t throw him through the window.”

Paul chuckled. “Good thing. Dillon wouldn’t be happy if he had to replace more glass.”

She shook her aching hand and turned to the side to collect herself. She was more shaken by Max’s appearance than she’d like to admit. Seeing him again after so long had been a complete shock. Why would he turn up now? He didn’t even grovel. He’d practically ordered her to talk to him. As if.

Max didn’t yell orders. He never raised his voice. He didn’t have to. She’d been more than happy to do anything he wanted. She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut. Yeah, she’d been more than happy to accommodate him, and all it had gotten her was a healthy dose of stupid.

She opened her eyes to see Paul eyeing her curiously as he made drinks. She frowned and turned away. A few months before, right after she’d slunk home to crawl under a rock, she’d thrown a smart-ass college kid through the front window of the bar.

The upside was that people were reluctant to start shit when she was tending bar. The downside was that now her family watched her even closer for signs she was going to start barking at the moon or frothing at the mouth.

“You okay, Callie?” Carl asked sharply.

She glanced up. “Yeah. No big deal. I took care of it.”

“Want me to call Dillon?”

She shook her head and frowned. “I took care of it. No reason to bug Dillon. I’m perfectly capable of running the bar. The last thing I need is him or Seth hovering over me when I’m trying to work.”

Carl grunted. “Having the sheriff around isn’t a bad thing.”

“Oh come on.” She snorted. “Nothing happens around here. Ever since Seth took over as sheriff, it’s been boring as hell. Tonight was as much excitement as Clyde’s seen since I threw the dude through the window. Everyone will thank me for breaking up the monotony.”

“So who was he?”

Callie’s lips tightened. “No one important.”

For several long minutes, she stared at the door where Max had departed. Why had he come? Why now? She’d wasted far too much time moping over him. Chalk it up to age and lack of experience on her part, but it wasn’t a mistake she planned to make again.

Max Wilder could drag himself back off to Italy or Greece or wherever the hell it was he ditched her. She was embarrassed to remember just how long she waited for him to come back before she got a clue and realized he’d dumped her.

“You heading out now, Callie? I can take it from here,” Paul said.

“Yeah, I know you can,” she muttered. “It’s busy, though. I’ll hang around in case there are any more problems.”

She didn’t particularly want to be here, but she didn’t want to walk out that door and chance Max being there, waiting for her. It was one thing to take him on inside a crowded bar. Face to face? Not that he would hurt her. But he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer when he wanted something. Callie wasn’t sure what he wanted, exactly, and she’d be an idiot to find out.

By the time she closed up at two a.m., she was exhausted and didn’t have it in her to drive up the mountain to her parents’ cabin. Nor did she want to go crash on her brothers’ couch. They’d all be asleep.

Callie chuckled. It amazed her that her mother had managed to hook up with three men. Lily, her sister-in-law, had done the same with Callie’s brothers, and here Callie couldn’t even manage a relationship with one man.

She was sure the townspeople, and hell, maybe even her own family, wondered if she harbored the desire to marry more than one man. There was probably a betting pool somewhere on how many men she would end up with.

She loved her fathers and her brothers dearly, but she had no idea how her mom and Lily managed it. Having more than one man in the house would drive her out of her mind. Too much testosterone. Too many moody males to contend with. Too many egos. Too much posturing, bickering and all-around aggravation.

Her mom and Lily were happy though, so Callie was all for it. For them. As long as she wasn’t expected to keep with the bizarre tradition.

She trudged back to Dillon’s office after turning off the lights. He had a couch that he sometimes slept on—well, that was before Lily came into the picture. Nowadays he rushed home every afternoon to spend time with his new wife. One or two nights a week, he came in to work the bar to give Callie a night off, but the truth was, nights off just gave her more time to think stupid shit. If she stayed busy, she didn’t think up acceptable reasons why Max dumped her cold in a foreign country.

She fished a bottle of water out of the minifridge by Dillon’s desk and then settled on the couch. She didn’t even bother to undress. She propped her feet up on the end, drained the bottle of water and then leaned back to close her eyes.

And all she could see was that moment where she looked up and saw Max standing just across the bar from her looking as sexy as ever.

She’d been utterly fascinated by him from the day she met him. He was older, a bit stern, but he had just enough rough edges to his polished look to make her drool. He was strong and confident, and oh but confidence on a man was super sexy.