and gave him a steady look. “There are at least ten bars in this town. Yet you pick Magic Jax.”
“So?”
She shrugged. “Don’t expect me to believe it’s coincidental. You wanted to see the place where Daisy worked.”
“Karen. And interesting that you didn’t mention you work here, too.”
“It’s temporary.” Her dark eyes continued to boldly meet his. “Are you going to ask when you can meet your niece?”
He grimaced. “You don’t know that she’s my niece. You only think she is.”
“Little lady, are we gonna get our cocktails anytime soon, or—”
She looked at the old guy wearing a ten-gallon hat who’d just interrupted them. “Squire Clay, I’ve warned you before. If you call me ‘little lady’ again, I’m not gonna let you off for speeding the next time I stop you.”
The auburn-haired woman with Ten Gallon hid a snicker.
“You want your drinks right this second, go on over and get ’em from Marty,” she told him.
Ten Gallon looked a little abashed. “Sorry, Ali,” he muttered.
Seeming satisfied, Officer Templeton looked back at Grant. “It’s a pretty good hunch,” she continued as if there’d been no interruption at all. “If you’re willing to provide a DNA sample, we could know for sure.”
His DNA wouldn’t prove squat, though he had no intention of telling her that. Particularly now that they’d become the focus of everyone inside the bar. The town had a whopping population of 5,000. Maybe. It was small, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance he’d be recognized. And the last thing he wanted was a rabid CCT Rules fan showing up on his doorstep.
He’d had too much of that already. It was one of the reasons he’d taken refuge at the ranch that his biological grandparents had once owned. He’d picked it up for a song when it was auctioned off years ago, but he hadn’t seriously entertained doing much of anything with it—especially living there himself.
At the time, he’d just taken perverse pleasure in being able to buy up the place where he’d never been welcomed while they’d been alive.
Now, it was in such bad disrepair that to stay there even temporarily, he’d been forced to make it habitable.
He wondered if Karen had stayed there, unbeknownst to him. If she was responsible for any of the graffiti or the holes in the walls.
He pushed away the thought and focused on the officer. “Ali. What’s it short for?”
She hesitated, obviously caught off guard. “Alicia, but nobody ever calls me that.” He’d been edging closer to the door, but she’d edged right along with him. “So, about that—”
Her first name hadn’t been on the business card she’d left for him. “Ali fits you better than Alicia.”
She gave him a look from beneath her just-from-bed sexy bangs. “Stop changing the subject, Mr. Cooper.”
“Start talking about something else, then. Better yet—” he gestured toward the bar and Marty “—start doing the job for Jaxie that you conveniently didn’t mention before.”
“I told you. It’s temporary.”
“I don’t care if it is or isn’t. But it makes me wonder what other details you’ve left out.”
She looked annoyed. “Mr. Cooper—”
“G’night, Officer Ali.” He pushed open the door and headed out into the night.
* * *
Ali stifled a curse as she watched Grant Cooper flip up the collar of his coat before he strode across the street.
Then the door to Magic Jax swung closed, cutting off the sight of him as well as the flow of cold air.
That didn’t stop her from feeling shivery, though.
“Ali, all your orders are backing up.”
She smiled at the other cocktail waitress working that night. It wasn’t Charlene’s fault that Ali was more interested in chasing after Grant Cooper for information about his sister than she was delivering drinks. “Sorry about that, Charlene.” She couldn’t push Grant out of her mind, but she could at least do what she was being paid to do. She hurried over to the bar and began loading up a tray. “Marty, you work most nights, right?”
The bartender didn’t stop polishing glasses with his towel. “Most.”
“Has he been in here before? Grant Cooper?”
“That’s the guy you were just talking to?” Marty shrugged. “He’s been in a couple times.”
“Recently?”
“Yeah, I guess. The last few weeks, anyway.”
“He ask any questions?”
Marty smiled wryly. “Yeah, what’ve we got on tap.”
“About something other than beer?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Why? What’s the story?”
“No story. I was just curious.”
“You’re never just curious, little... Ali,” Squire interjected, stopping next to the bar and handing her a twenty. Not too long ago, she’d learned that the prosperous rancher from Weaver was sort of her relative. “Gloria and I are headin’ out now.”
Ali held up the twenty-dollar bill between two fingers. “What’s this?”
“Bribery. For next time you pull me over for speeding.”
“I’ve got a better idea, Squire.” She plucked the hat off his gray head and tucked the twenty into the hatband. “Just stop speeding.”
He guffawed and clapped her on the back with one of his big, rough hands. “You’re a good girl, Ali, even if you got that uppity shrew for a granny. Ya oughta be finding a husband like that sis of yours has now.”
She shook her head. “Nobody left who’s worth marrying, Squire, since you’ve been hitched to Gloria all these years.”
Standing near the doorway, Gloria sniffed loudly. “You’re welcome to the old coot, Ali,” she called. “You just say the word.”
“Eh, she needs a young buck like that fella she was just talkin’ to.” Squire winked at her as he headed toward his wife and the exit. “Someone who can keep up with her.”
Ali chuckled as was expected of her, and picked up the heavy tray.
But the truth was, she was thirty years old. She’d been dating since she was sixteen, and in all that time, she’d never met a man she’d been inclined to marry. And even though
