Take a Chance on Me(2)

She’d made it. The pressure on her feet eased to an insistent ache. She was safe. For the first time since her car had died, she allowed the fear to sink in. She wanted to lay her cheek on the cool laminate counter and weep in relief.

“What can I get for you, Princess?” a low, deep voice rumbled.

Maddie’s head shot up and a man blinked into focus. Her mouth dropped open. In front of her stood the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

Was she hallucinating? Was he a mirage?

She blinked again. Nope. Still there.

Unusual amber eyes, glimmering with amusement, stared at her from among strong, chiseled features.

She swallowed. Teeth snapping together, she tried to speak. She managed a little squeak before words failed her. A hot flush spread over her chest. Men like this should be illegal.

Unable to resist the temptation pulling her gaze lower, she let it fall. Just when she’d thought nothing could rival that face.

Shoulders, a mile wide, stretched the gray T-shirt clinging to his broad chest. The muscles in his arms flexed as he rested his hands on the counter. A tribal tattoo in black ink rippled across his left bicep. Oh, she liked those. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace the intricate scroll as moisture slid over her tongue.

For the love of God, she was salivating.

Stop staring. She shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. Not after today.

It was so, so wrong.

But she couldn’t look away.

Stop. She tried again, but it was impossible. He was a work of art.

“You okay there?” The smile curving his full mouth was pure sin.

That low, rumbling voice snapped her out of her stupor, and she squared her shoulders. “Yes, thank you.”

His gaze did some roaming of its own and stopped at her dress. One golden brow rose.

Before he could ask any questions, she said, “I’ll have three shots of whiskey and a glass of water.”

His lips quirked. “Three?”

“Yes, please.” With a sharp nod, she ran a finger along the dull, black surface of the bar. “You can line them up right here.”


When he continued to stare at her as if she might be an escaped mental patient, she reached into her small bag and pulled out her only cash. She waved the fifty in front of his face. “I assume this will cover it.”

“If I give you the shots, are you going to get sick all over that pretty dress?” He leaned over the counter, and his scent wafted in her direction.

She sucked in a breath. He smelled good, like spice, soap, and danger. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? She was so going to hell.

She pushed the money toward him. “I’ll be fine. I’m Irish. We can handle our liquor.”

“All right, then.” The bartender chuckled, and Maddie’s stomach did a strange little dip.

He wandered off, and Maddie released a pent-up breath, trying not to stare at the way his ass filled out his faded jeans. Never mind the flex of powerful thighs, the lean hips, or the—

Snap out of it.

What was wrong with her? She had bigger things to worry about. Her car was dead. She had no clothes. She’d made a huge mess of her life. And she was spending the only money she had on booze.

She couldn’t afford to add impure thoughts to her rapidly growing list of sins. She needed to pull it together. She’d drink her shots, figure out a plan, and be on her way.

To where? She hadn’t a clue.

The future stretched before her like a blank, empty slate. Fear and panic bubbled to the surface. She’d never been on her own. She wasn’t sure how to go about it. It was sad, considering she was twenty-eight, but true.

A new thought worked its way through her muddled brain, breaking over her like the dawn of a new day: she was free. Free in a way she hadn’t been in too many years to count. She could do whatever she wanted. There was no one looking over her shoulder, no one watching her with worried eyes. Maybe she’d have a chance to breathe and remember the girl she’d been before her life had gone to hell.

Before she could think too much about it, the gorgeous bartender returned. He lined up three shot glasses and tilted the bottle with a flick of his wrist. In one fluid pour, the smoky amber liquid filled each glass to the rim. “Bottoms up.”

She picked up the small glass and downed it in one gulp. The alcohol burned as it slid down her throat and hit her stomach, warming her in an instant. She reached for the next shot and downed it, too. Muscles that had been tight for years loosened, and her shoulders returned to where they belonged, instead of hovering at her ears.

The alcohol rushed through her veins at Mach ten, and too late she remembered that she hadn’t eaten. Not her brightest idea.

Oh well, that was the theme of the day.

The bartender stood over her, his watchful gaze burning a hole into her. She didn’t need to look up to sense his questions. She took a sip of water and tried not to fidget.

In record speed, the whiskey did its work, with her brain going a little fuzzy and the world turning a little brighter. With each passing moment, her situation seemed less dire. She could do this. It would be an adventure.

And what adventure was complete without eye candy?

Said eye candy still hovered over her, making her skin prickle with awareness. Unable to resist the pull of him, she gave up.

It didn’t hurt to look, did it? Raising her head, she met his amused eyes and smiled.