a hint if you hung it around her neck. Not his type for certain.
He didn’t know what he expected from Brevia, North Carolina. He looked around the bar’s interior, from the neon signs glowing on the walls to the slightly sticky sheen on the wood floor. The bar ran along the back of the far wall although few stools were occupied. Not the most popular place in town, so no wonder there was a for-sale sign in the window. Still, the lack of customers suited him just fine. The watering holes he usually frequented in D.C. may have been classier and more historic. But as far as Scott was concerned, liquor was liquor and it didn’t really matter who poured it or where.
He closed his eyes for a moment and wondered what had brought him to Brevia tonight. After the blowout he’d had with his brother, Sam, at their dad’s wedding a few weeks ago, he’d vowed never to step foot in this town again. If he admitted the truth, he had no place else to go. No friends, no one who cared whether he showed up or not. His dad and brother might be the exception to that, but they were both too mad at him for it to matter now.
He drained his glass again. He liked the way alcohol eventually numbed him enough so the dark thoughts hovering in the corners of his mind disappeared. Maybe it had led to some stupid decisions, but it also took the edge off a little. And Scott had a lot of edges that needed attention.
As a few more patrons wandered out, Scott’s waitress came over to the table. “It’s a slow night, honey,” she told him. “I’m heading home. I could give you a ride somewhere or you could stop by my place for a nightcap.”
She said it so matter-of-factly, Scott almost missed the invitation in her voice. He glanced up. “What’s your name?”
“Tina.”
He flashed the barest hint of a smile. “Tina, trust me. You can do way better than me on any given night. Even in a town like Brevia.”
“I’m willing to take my chances.” She surveyed him up and down. “I could wait years for a man who looks like you to walk into this place.”
He took her hand in his and ran his finger across the center of her palm. “You deserve more than the likes of me. Go home, Tina.” He pressed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “And thank you for the offer. It’s a hard one to pass up.”
She sighed. “Enjoy your night then.”
He watched her walk away, then shifted his gaze as he felt someone watching him. The pixie of a waitress stood next to a table, her mouth literally hanging open as she gaped at him as if he was the big, bad wolf. A rush of heat curled up his spine. Maybe he should have taken Tina up on her offer. He was clearly in need of releasing some kind of pent-up energy.
He straightened from the table where he sat and lifted his glass in mock salute, adding a slow wink for good measure.
The mouse snapped her rosebud lips together and spun around, sending another glass flying from the tray she balanced precariously in one hand.
Scott shook his head as the crash reverberated through the bar. That was her fifth for the night. A clumsy new waitress wouldn’t last long.
He moved to a seat at the bar and ordered another round.
To his surprise, the bartender shook his head. “You’ve had enough, buddy.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’m cutting you off.”
Scott knew for a fact—almost a fact—that he never appeared drunk even when he was. It had been his downfall too many times to count. People assumed the idiot things he did weren’t in direct relation to the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “What the hell? I’m not making a scene. It’s still early.”
“It’s 1:00 a.m.”
“That means I’ve got an hour left.”
“Not in my bar you don’t. I own this place and I’m saying you’re done here.”
“What’s the problem, man?”
The bar’s owner was in his late forties, a tall, balding man with a lean face. Scott wasn’t acting out of the ordinary, so couldn’t figure out what was the problem.
“The problem,” the bartender said as he leaned closer, “is that I saw you kissing my girlfriend’s hand a few minutes ago. Now get the hell out of my bar.”
Scott thought about the lovely Tina and cringed. “I had no idea she was your girlfriend. She invited me over for a drink and—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence as the bartender grabbed at the scruff of his collar. Without thinking, Scott slammed the man’s hand to the wooden counter, stopping just short of breaking it.
The bartender yelped in pain, then yanked his hand away.
“I told you,” Scott repeated quietly, “I didn’t know.”
“Luke, is everything okay here?”
Scott turned and saw the tiny waitress standing at his side. She was even smaller up close, her big eyes blinking at him from behind round glasses. As far as he could tell, she didn’t wear a speck of makeup, her pale skin clear without it other than a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her red hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail at the nape of her neck. She bounced on her toes, looking warily from Scott to Luke.
“Everything’s fine, Lexi,” the bartender said coolly. “This customer has had enough. He’s leaving.”
“So Lexi’s the bouncer?” Scott smiled at the mouse. “Are you going to throw me out?”
“You don’t seem drunk,” Lexi observed.
He knew the bartender was right even if he’d never own up to it. Scott wasn’t much of a gambler, but he’d perfected a poker face. Nothing good ever came from admitting he’d had too much to drink. Especially at a bar. “I’m not,” he answered, even though he knew it was a lie. “But I’d like to be.” He settled into his chair and gave her a broad smile.
A streak of pink crept up from the neckline of her Riley’s Bar T-shirt, coloring her neck and cheeks. A muscle in Scott’s abdomen tightened. He imagined her entire petite frame covered in those sweet freckles and flushed pink with desire. For him.
Whoa. Where had that come from? He blinked several times to clear his head.
“Do you have something in your eye?” the mouse asked. “I have eyedrops in my purse if you need them.”
So much for his charm with women. He was rusty these days. “No,” he answered.
“He don’t need anything,” Luke interrupted. “He’s on his way out.”
“No wonder your bar is so run-down.” Scott bit out a laugh. “If this is how you treat your customers...”
He saw Luke’s eyes narrow a fraction. “My customers don’t bad-mouth my bar. This establishment happens to be a local favorite.”
Scott made a show of looking around at the nearly empty stools and tables. “I can see how popular you are. Yes, indeed.” He glanced
