Chase's Promise. Lois Faye Dyer

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Chase's Promise - Lois Faye Dyer Mills & Boon Silhouette

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Her body felt charged with awareness and she was relieved when they reached the booth so that she could slip out from under his arm and drop onto the bench. Instead of taking the bench opposite the scarred tabletop, Chase sat down beside her, his shoulder nudging hers. Quickly, she slid along the seat into the corner. He followed her.

      “What are you doing?” she hissed, taken aback at the press of his arm and the length of his thigh against hers.

      He bent his head, his lips brushing against her ear. “Marking you.”

      Incensed, Raine met his gaze. His blue eyes were impassive, watchful. Determined not to let him see he’d shaken her composure, she merely nodded. “Of course. I should have realized.”

      His mouth quirked and amusement lit his eyes for a brief moment. Then he looked away from her and lifted his hand to beckon the waitress.

      The strawberry blonde who answered his gesture carried an empty tray and wore skintight jeans, her curly mass of red-gold hair brushing the straps of her bright pink halter top.

      “Hi, honey, what can I get you?”

      “A couple of longnecks.” Chase’s voice was a lazy, sexy drawl.

      Raine realized with a start that he was smiling at the waitress. The smile changed his features from handsome to drop-dead sexy. The waitress clearly thought so, too. Her eyes lit and she bent forward slightly, allowing the neckline of her low-cut knit top to fall forward.

      “Is that all you need, honey?”

      Her suggestive question had Raine bristling. The surprising reaction was unexpected, unwelcome and annoying. Neither the waitress nor Chase appeared to remember she was present and the rudeness irked her.

      “For the moment.”

      The blonde gave him a knowing smile and sashayed her way back to the bar.

      “What was that all about?” Raine whispered.

      Chase turned his head to look at Raine. His expression held none of the seductive teasing he’d shown the waitress. “It’s about being nice to the employees. If Trey was in here on a Friday night, she wouldn’t have missed him.”

      “Assuming she was working that Friday.”

      Chase nodded. “A pretty safe assumption since Friday and Saturday nights are the busiest nights in a bar. There’s a good chance she worked the weekend shift, don’t you think?”

      “True.” Raine knew the Saloon’s employees worked at full staff on Friday and Saturday nights. “Good call,” she conceded reluctantly.

      The waitress came back with two frosty bottles of beer.

      “Here you go,” she said.

      Chase handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

      “Thanks.” She tucked the bill into the pocket of her skintight jeans.

      “There is something you might help with,” Chase said, returning her smile.

      “What’s that?” The pure speculation in her voice clearly said she was hoping for a more personal request.

      Chase reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out the photo of Trey. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. He was in here on a Friday night a couple of weeks ago.”

      The blonde took the photo, studied it, then held it out to Chase. “No, haven’t seen him.”

      “Are you sure? Take another look.”

      She stared at the photo once again, a frown growing between her brows. Then she shook her head. “Sorry, mister. I told the cops the same thing when they asked about him a week or so ago. I’ve never seen this guy before.”

      “Were you working that night?” Chase took the photo from her outstretched hand, tucking it back inside his jacket pocket.

      “I work every Friday night, Saturday, too. Tips are better on the weekend.”

      “Who else works weekends? Any chance one of the other waitresses waited on him and you didn’t see him?”

      The blonde laughed, a throaty chortle. “Mister, there’s no chance I’d have missed him.” She gestured at Chase’s jacket, where the photo lay hidden. “Most of our customers are regulars. Your friend is fine-looking—I’d definitely remember him if he’d come in. He wasn’t here on a Friday night. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever been in here, at least not when I’ve been working and I work six shifts a week.”

      “Then I guess I must have misunderstood—maybe he told me he was at another bar in Billings. Are there two bars in town with the same name?”

      “No.” She shook her head. “There’s only one Bull ’n’ Bash and God knows, one’s enough.” The bartender roared her name and she glanced over her shoulder. “Gotta get back to work. Let me know if you have any more…questions.” She winked at Chase, ignored Raine and strutted away across the room.

      Chase lifted his bottle and drank, his gaze sweeping the room and its occupants. Beside him, Raine swiveled her bottle in a slow circle on the tabletop, her fingers trembling.

      “He wasn’t here.” She felt numb with disappointment, only now realizing how desperately she’d been counting on Chase uncovering a lead tonight. “The police said they couldn’t find any evidence he’d been in Billings that night but I didn’t believe it. I was so sure he must have met the letter writer here and left with him.”

      “Before we check this place off our list, I’m going to show Trey’s picture to a few more people.” Chase slid out of the booth. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

      He strolled across the room and joined the group of men leaning against the wall to watch the pool shooters. Raine saw him exchange words with a cowboy on his left, then he showed him Trey’s photo.

      She took a sip of beer, swallowed and shuddered. She didn’t like beer and if she hadn’t been so intent on Chase and the response of the men now looking at Trey’s photo, she wouldn’t have lifted the bottle and drank.

      “It can’t taste that bad.” A cowboy slid into the booth opposite her, grinning as he nodded at the bottle in front of her. “But since it apparently does, how about letting me buy you something better. A shot of Jose Cuervo, maybe?”

      “Thanks, but no thanks.” Raine nearly groaned when she met Chase’s gaze across the room and registered the grim set of his mouth as he started toward her. “I have a personal rule against letting strange men buy me drinks.”

      “I’m not a strange man, honey. I could get downright friendly if you’re willing.”

      “She’s not.”

      Both Raine and the cowboy looked up. Raine’s stomach lurched. Though Chase didn’t move, he emanated a lethal threat that stole Raine’s breath.

      The young cowboy eased out of the booth, mumbled an apology and headed quickly over to the bar.

      “Let’s go.”

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