Debbi Rawlins - Come Closer, Cowboy

“Sorry.” Mallory hurried over, embarrassed to see the waitress busting ass filling mugs and pitchers, and scooping up glasses of ice. Mallory glanced at the first two drink tickets and grabbed bottles of tequila and rum from the shelf.

Dammit, she’d planned to ask for Ben’s help, though she wouldn’t now. Better he keep his guest busy and away from her.

She poured two shots, head bent, letting loose strands of hair hide part of her face before she slid a look down the bar.

Gunner wasn’t there.

Where the hell—?

“Move over.” His rough palm on her arm made her jump. “I’ll get the mixed drinks.”

“No, thanks,” she said, refusing to budge. “We’re fine.”

Elaine turned her awestruck look from Gunner to glare at Mallory. The message was clear—Accept his offer or I’ll kill you in your sleep.

“Fine.” Mallory barely got the word out before he’d put his hands on her hips and moved her over a foot.

He set the drink tickets in a row so he could easily read them, lined up glasses, for both cocktails and shots, dispensed ice cubes in one fluid motion, then went to work pouring and mixing.

As soon as Elaine left with her loaded tray, Mallory took over the tap. She told herself that standing near him was nothing. How many times had he helped her on busy nights at the Renegade? Fifty? Sixty times? Probably more.

Except, back then, they hadn’t had sex yet. She hadn’t known the hot, bone-melting feel of his mouth on hers, or experienced the sweet rough texture of his tongue as he licked a path to her breasts.

And then making her wait. And wait. Her tightened nipple aching so badly she’d thought she would go crazy before he finally sucked it into his mouth.

After that he’d kind of lost it, too, impatiently stripping off her panties then lowering his mouth...

Mallory shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She exchanged a filled mug for an empty one and pressed an ice cube to her throat. “It’s hot in here,” she muttered.

He gave her a faintly mocking smile.

“Shut up, Gunner. I mean it.”

Beer foamed over the mug’s rim and spilled onto her hand. It took two tries for her to shut off the tap. She swallowed a string of curses as she grabbed a clean rag and mopped up.

“Excuse me.” A pretty redhead was looking at Gunner. “What nights will the band play?”

“Ask the boss,” he said, nodding at Mallory.

“I haven’t found one yet, and the stage needs more work. But I’m hoping to have live music soon.”

“Thanks.” The redhead didn’t care. She’d only wanted an excuse to talk to Gunner.

It was a familiar scenario. Women were always drawn to him. Mallory hated that she cared.

“You have dartboards in the back, but I don’t see any darts.” Again, the woman addressed Gunner, then leaned over the bar for a look. “Do you have some back there?”

Mallory doubted she’d find them behind Gunner’s fly.

He kept pouring drinks but glanced at Mallory. “Sweetheart, where are the darts?”

She sucked in a breath. “Right here,” she said, and stooped to open a lower cabinet. He’d never called her that before, and she didn’t know what game he was playing. She straightened and handed over the box of darts. “Sorry about that.”

A look of disappointment on the other woman’s face cheered Mallory, making her twice the fool. If Gunner had intended to mislead the redhead, it was only because he wasn’t interested. Or he had his eye on someone else.

Mallory glanced around the room. Lots of pretty women had turned out, mostly in pairs or groups. And now some of them were starting to line up at the bar to get their drinks directly from Gunner. Great. Just great.

After she filled two pitchers, she walked over to Ben and Grace, who had settled in. They were busy talking to people but she felt bad she hadn’t even offered them a drink.

She waited for a break in the conversation and asked, “What can I get you guys?”

“Don’t worry about us,” Grace said, at the same time Ben said, “Beer.”

Grace leaned back and gave him a look.

“Hey, I was going to offer to help,” he said. “But it’s too crowded back there. At least Gunner seems to know what he’s doing.”

Mallory hesitated. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he was coming.”

“He wanted to surprise you.”

“Ah.” She knew what kind of beer Ben drank and got a bottle from the fridge. “Grace? Beer? Wine? I have both red and white, but they’re just okay.”

“Beer’s fine,” Grace said, and grabbed Ben’s bottle before he could.

He just grinned and stole a kiss.

Mallory couldn’t help smiling. They were the most adorable couple. Ben had changed. She didn’t know whether it was because of Grace or Blackfoot Falls, or maybe it was a combination of the two, but he seemed more relaxed, certainly happier.

Something made her turn her head. Gunner was watching her. She lost the sappy smile and got a second beer from the fridge. Before she twisted off the cap she said, “Grace, maybe you’d like Gunner to make you a mai tai?”

“A what?”

“Or some fancy blended drink.”

Ben laughed and took the bottle from Mallory. “Don’t piss off the help, especially when it’s free labor.”

Grace just smiled and gave her a curious look.

Mallory winced. She’d have to watch her tone. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”

Elaine was garnishing the drinks Gunner had made and grinning at something he said. Mallory spotted two tickets with beer orders and she slid in to man the tap.

“I can deliver these pitchers if you tell me which tables,” she told Elaine, who’d been moving nonstop.

“Nah, I should be back by the time you’re finished.” She hefted the loaded tray and nodded toward the stage. “The mug is for Mike. I’m pretty sure he’d rather you take it to him,” she said with a mischievous smile before heading for the back room.

Mallory sighed. What was it with Elaine and Sadie? Why were they trying to fix her up with him?

“Who’s Mike?”

She looked at Gunner. For a few wonderful, blessed moments, she’d forgotten he was there. “A guy who did some carpentry work for me.” Gunner turned his head and she saw that his hair was touching the collar of his blue polo shirt. He never let it go like that, not even when he was away working for long periods of time. But damn he looked good.

“The guy sitting alone to the left of the stage?” he asked, turning back to stare at her.

“What?”

“Is that Mike?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked for him. What do you care, anyway?” She noticed a couple sitting near Ben trying impatiently to get her attention. Damn. Her grand opening and she was going to chase everyone away.

She felt Gunner watching her as she went to get refills. Those mesmerizing gray eyes still got to her every time. When she’d first met him when she was sixteen, she hadn’t been that into boys yet, but she remembered thinking he was the hottest guy she’d ever seen. He’d been twenty-one at the time so of course he’d barely noticed her.

For weeks he’d come to the bar almost every day. Then he’d disappear for a month. She’d known it was partly his job that kept him away. But when a year had gone by without him making a single appearance, she’d figured that was it...she’d never see him again. And then out of the blue Gunner had started showing up, three or four times a week when he wasn’t away on location.

By then she’d turned twenty-one and was working full-time at the Renegade. A year later her dad had died unexpectedly. An aneurism, the doctor had said. No apparent cause. Mallory had figured all the hard living had caught up to him. Bitter that his stunt career had been cut short, he’d drank a lot, smoked anything that was rolled and screwed any woman who’d let him. He wasn’t so different from a lot of the stunt guys who’d helped keep the Renegade in business.