told Zee to keep an eye on things.”
“Zee thinks he’s drunk.”
That comment broke the tension, and they shared a good laugh. “You look out for him,” she said. Approval and something more gleamed in her eyes, making him uncomfortable beneath her knowing stare.
“Someone has to…he’s Bear’s father. The old guy lost his wife a few years back and he’s always looking for a little attention. It was nice of you to give it to him, by the way.” Not many people would give a lonely old man the time of day. Bear’s customers put up with the old coot for Bear’s sake and because like Mac, they’d known Zee and his friends forever. Samantha had done it for a stranger.
“How long had they been married?” she asked.
“Over fifty years.”
“Wow, that’s a long time.” A shudder shook her slight frame.
“Not for them. They really loved each other.” Mac wondered when he’d become the spokesperson for marriage. Not that he’d mind settling down one day; in fact, he’d like nothing more. He just never believed he’d find a woman sincere and honest enough to make the risk worthwhile. He glanced at Samantha. Until now?
Mac wanted the chance to find out.
“At least those years were filled with love,” she said.
He met her gaze. “Can’t see tying yourself to someone for any other reason. Might as well wrap a noose around your neck otherwise.”
She cleared her throat. “Would you mind changing the subject?”
“Why? Marriage makes you uncomfortable?” he asked lightly. If he had his way, he’d have plenty of time later to pry her secrets out of her. She obviously had many. “Don’t tell Zee or he’ll be giving you an earful about tradition, respect and good old-fashioned love.” The older man’s distinctive cackle filtered into the room.
She smiled, the wide grin knocking him senseless. There was no way he’d survive until closing with her hanging around, dodging his every move.
“He’s harmless…and sweet.” She shut the door behind her and walked inside, moving closer until he caught a whiff of the tangy soap she’d used during her shower. Though he missed the hint of peaches clinging to her skin, this scent worked on him, too.
She drew a deep breath. “Kind of like you,” she murmured, a nervous tremor touching her voice.
He lifted her chin with his finger. “Sweetheart, I’m the furthest thing from sweet you’ll find in these parts.” Cold, withdrawn, disinterested. Those were the nicer adjectives some of the women at The Resort used to describe the blunt manner in which he’d turned down their advances. But he’d learned the hard way, letting them down gently never worked.
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back until he hit the wall. Then with another tremulous breath, she leaned her body against his.
And then she kissed him. Hard and fast, as if she didn’t want to give herself a chance to change her mind. Which was fine with him. She’d made the first move, and Mac intended to make sure she didn’t regret it. Because with her soft mouth devouring his and her hands now pulling at his shirt and trailing up his chest, he definitely wanted more.
She didn’t give him a chance. Those fingers curled into fists and she shoved backward, separating them before he could act on impulse and take what he wanted. What she’d seemed to offer just seconds before.
Wide eyes, darkened by passion and a hint of insecurity, met his. “I don’t know what I was thinking, grabbing you like that.”
Her uncertainty touched him. “I don’t know what you were thinking, either, but did you hear me complaining?”
A slight smile took hold of her lips. “You mean you liked it?” she asked.
Reaching out, he grasped her forearm, gently pressing his fingers into her flesh. “You mean you couldn’t tell? My technique must be rusty.” He let his thumb run circles over her skin.
He took one step toward her, and when she didn’t back away, he locked them together once again. She tipped her head backward to meet his gaze.
“You can trust me, sweetheart.”
“I know.” Her wide smile reassured him, and he kissed her without holding back. She responded. Her tongue filled his mouth, while her soft sighs and little moans drove him mad. Apparently she’d needed reassurance, and having gotten it, she relaxed in his arms.
Her flimsy shirt already hung off one bare shoulder. Although not blatantly sexy, this soft, frilly thing aroused him beyond belief. Acting on impulse, he grabbed both the tank top strap along with the ruffled edge of the shirt and pulled both down far enough to let him taste one of her darkened nipples. Her moan of delight was unrestrained as she arched her back in wanton response, giving him complete access.
Mac had never embarrassed himself in front of a woman, but he damn near did so now. Another few seconds and he wouldn’t give a damn that a bar full of people waited outside that door. He’d scatter their clothes on the floor and bury himself inside her willing warmth. He needed to stop but wasn’t ready to let her go.
He had no choice. Her admitted hesitancy prevented him from going further. With more difficulty than he would have imagined, he raised his head. “Still think I’m harmless?” he asked, his breathing not at all steady.
“No, but you do taste sweet.” An embarrassed smile played over her lips. “I wasn’t sure how to approach you…but I’m glad I did.”
He’d been right. For all her attempts at seduction, she was very new at this kind of game. Which made him wonder what other secrets she kept. She’d already admitted to being a temporary runaway. And given the inexperience he sensed and the innocence she projected, he had to wonder why the urgency to come on to him at all? Every unanswered question made her all the more fascinating.
He met her gaze. Her violet eyes were still glazed with a combination of passion and disbelief. Mac understood. He’d never have believed they’d make such an explosive combination, either. He hadn’t thought this bundle of contradictions had it in her. He’d sensed her hesitancy and figured she’d bail out. Instead, she’d come to him. To Mac, the bartender.
If his instincts were on, this hot, blazing desire that flared between them was just as new to her as it was to…No. No. He shook his head. Desire wasn’t new to him. He’d wanted before. He’d just never come so close so fast.
He had the unnerving sense that one night with Samantha wouldn’t be enough to douse this high-charged inferno that blazed out of control. Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be. But until he understood what she was running from and why, he couldn’t take advantage…no matter how badly he wanted to.
With deliberate slowness, he picked her up and lowered her to the ground, making sure their bodies touched the entire time. Making sure she felt the hard ridge of his arousal. Her sharp inhale told him she had.
She’d pulled her still-damp hair into a braid that touched her shoulder. He toyed with the end. “It’s wet.”
“I
