to push your way through that crowd.
Lily hitched a brow as she watched him—looks like Thor and probably throws a mean cocktail—and wished she could see his face more clearly. An ember of interest started to smolder. Her nights might get a whole lot less lonely if she had a man like that around. As if she’d have the nerve to approach him. Cheesy pickup lines began to play in her head. Did they teach you to mix drinks in Adonis school, or are you naturally talented? She laughed at herself and turned back to the bingo game. Yeah, she was a little rusty.
The band started up again, taking over from the crappy music on the jukebox, and burst out a song about a man who loved his red Solo Cup. Macy and half the people in the bar, who were really just rednecks stuffed into Hawaiian outfits and fire department shirts, jumped from their seats and gave a cheer. Lily remained in her seat, watching the crowd. Truthfully, it was nice to get out of the house and forget about the pile of city permits and construction bids she had waiting on her desk. Her social life consisted of arguing with her business partner and father, Doug, during the day, and talking to her cat, Adam, at night.
Pretty pathetic for a twenty-seven-year-old.
Macy sat back down. She made eyes at Lily, cleared her throat and nodded toward the bar. The hot bartender was giving her another glance. He didn’t look away when she looked at him—seemed to almost be daring her with his eyes. She made out his crooked smile—sexy and sassy—aimed right at her, before he turned to talk to a customer.
“He’s pretty good-looking, huh?” Macy smiled knowingly and ran a hand down the back of Lily’s hair.
“Not bad.” Lily shrugged.
“Man, your hair rocks. It’s so smooth and black.” Macy continued to pet her.
Lily blew a stream of air over her fringe bangs. She’d just had them cut long enough to touch the tips of her eyelashes, and the blue-black color had been too awesome to resist. It went well with the crimson lip gloss she’d slicked on earlier. Nothing went with bitching black hair like red lipstick.
“If you keep petting me, he’s going to think we’re a couple.” Her eyes slid to the bar. Anxiety and sweet anticipation tickled her insides.
Macy smacked her lips. “If he’s like most men, and I’d bet money he is, he wouldn’t mind one bit.” She nudged Lily with her shoulder. “You’ve been eyeballing him since you got here.”
The bingo announcer called out another number. Lily’s face went hot. She sighed and picked at her fingernail. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to put Macy off or drum up the courage to catch the bartender’s eyes. “Kind of hard not to.”
Macy leaned on her elbows over the small round table until her nose touched the tip of Lily’s. “And?”
Lily placed one finger on the tip of Macy’s nose and pushed gently until her friend backed up. “And what?” Macy’s eyebrows rose excitedly. Lily shook her head. “And, no. I’m not going over there. Too much, too soon.”
The protest sounded lame even to her own ears. Was there a store where she could buy extra nerves to maybe—maybe—walk up to him? Lily knew her retro pinup style and tattoos gave most people the impression that she was a badass, but underneath the ink and lipstick, she was reserved. Cool, even, mostly to her disadvantage.
The stress she’d been under these past months didn’t help; in fact, they’d kept her from finding any real joy in life, or any reason to actively participate in it. No wonder she felt antsy and ready for something fun and amazing to happen. No wonder she also wanted to run out of the bar and head straight home. Part of her suddenly wished she and Macy were in another bar, one that wasn’t filled with reminders of why she’d been under so much stress and grief in the first place.
The announcer’s voice boomed through the mic. “B 12.”
Lily grabbed a chip; Macy smirked. “Look at him again. How can you say too much, too soon?”
He was facing the bar, giving Lily a perfect view of all six-plus feet of him looking fine in a dark T-shirt with Throwing Aces in white lettering across the front. The way the fabric stretched just a bit over his tight middle and settled into the dips and rise of his pecs whenever he turned or twisted was a gift to every woman in the room. Excitement shot low in her belly. Lily frowned at her body’s sudden reaction. That hadn’t happened in a while.
“Of all the women here tonight, he’s been eye locked on you, and you’re overthinking again. Remember what you said? Be present.” Macy gave a lazy eye roll and slumped her shoulders in dramatic exasperation. Her curls made a Shirley Temple bounce as she leaned back on her stool. “I have three words for you, Lily. Crazy. Cat. Lady. That’s what you’re turning into.”
Lily’s lips parted. She tried a little lightness, hoping to tame Macy’s enthusiasm before it turned into an atom bomb, as usual. “Adam is not a cat. He’s people.”
Macy managed to raise a brow and scowl at the same time. “Your Adam Levine fangirling is not a suitable replacement for a real man, Lily. Crazy cat ladies usually don’t have a man around, which is why they name their cats after celebrity men they’ll never have.”
Lily laughed. “I have one cat!”
Macy shrugged one petite shoulder and thrust out her lower lip as she fiddled with her bingo board. “That’s how it starts, Lily. That’s how it starts.”
Lily was about to throw in a snarky retort when someone bumped into her shoulder. She looked over as a tall man in a DFD T-shirt made a quick apology as he walked away. Lily shuddered. The man maneuvered through the crowd until he was out of sight. Firemen. The last time Lily had been surrounded by this many firemen, she’d been lying on the ground with soot burning her lungs and throat.
“Hey, you missed the number.” Macy leaned over and slid a chip onto Lily’s board, but Lily wasn’t paying attention. She eyed another fireman. Same shirt. Same memory. Anxiety clenched her gut with a painful grip. Dang, this wasn’t supposed to happen. There was no reason for this to be happening. She’d gone to therapy, and even though she refused to go into detail about that night, Lily had made progress. Just the fact that she’d finally left her house to go somewhere other than work or the grocery store was huge.
Macy’s voice dipped low. “I’m sorry, Lil. I shouldn’t have asked you to come to this tonight. I just thought...maybe some of the wind had run out of that storm, you know?”
Lily’s stomach went into free fall. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She was doing well—was reining in her anxiety like a champ, thank you.
“I mean,” Macy continued just audibly above the racket, “this fire department wasn’t even the one who...you know...that night.”
Lily knew that, but it didn’t take the bitterness away. It didn’t matter what fire department had been present the night her sister had burned to death and Lily had been nearly killed. Firefighters were firefighters—they all represented the crew that failed her so spectacularly. Combined with how unabashedly members of the Danbury crew flaunted their womanizing, it was hard for her to see firemen in the positive light everyone else seemed to. Knowing Macy, her friend would leave the moment Lily asked her to. But Macy was having a good time, and Lily didn’t want to ruin that. Macy was the only person who stood by her through thick and thin, and Lily owed her. Besides, this was silly. She could do this. They were men...just men. A guy didn’t have to be a fireman to be a womanizer—Rob had proved
