Claire McEwen - His Last Rodeo

“You think you’re ready for the shaker?” She elbowed him like it was something naughty, trying to inject some humor into the lesson.

“I’m ready for anything,” he said with a wink that should not make her skin warm the way it did.

“Since you’re making three, use the biggest shaker and make them all at once.”

It was getting busier and louder in the bar. Tyler tipped his head close to hers to hear her. “How am I supposed to measure it all out?”

She pulled away to avoid his spicy scent, which ran soft fingers over her nerves. Rummaging in a drawer to her left, she grabbed a jigger and showed him the marks on it. “Pour into here to measure the alcohol first.”

He blinked at the small metal cup. “We’re not baking.”

“How else are you going to measure it? Have you practiced your pours?”

He looked confused.

“You have to practice pouring water from a liquor bottle before you can go by instinct.”

“I’ve got good instincts,” he protested.

“For bull riding, maybe,” she countered. “Make your drinks too strong and you’ll waste money and have those girls puking in the bathroom. Tomorrow I’ll show you how to practice. Tonight, use the jigger.”

He nodded. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks, Kit.”

She headed to the bar, surprised to see Tyler’s red-haired groupie with a drink in her hand. Maybe as Kit was getting older, customers were looking younger. Maybe she just wasn’t used to all these sweet young things in her bar. Tyler’s bar, she corrected herself.

She glanced back as Tyler carefully measured the vodka into the shaker. It was kind of cute, how seriously he was taking this.

What was she doing, thinking he was cute? She wasn’t even sure she liked him. He was cocky. He was overly confident. He wanted to change her bar. And he’d shown up on the busiest night to practice his nonexistent bartending skills. No, she didn’t like him much. Not even the tiniest bit.

Tyler had said she had a soft spot for the lost and lonely. Well, he was neither of those things, and she needed to keep that in mind when her heart went soft on her, like it was doing now.

* * *

TYLER’S BARTENDING CONFIDENCE was rising with every drink he made. So when Crater asked Kit for another pint of Guinness while she was busy with another order, Tyler offered to get it for him.

“No!” Kit and Crater both yelled at the same time. He must have looked surprised because Kit laughed. “Sorry about that,” she said through her giggles. “It’s just that pouring Guinness is tricky.”

“Only Kit pours my pints, usually.” Crater eyed Tyler suspiciously.

“We’ll do it together,” Kit assured him. “And if it’s no good, I’ll pour you another. Tyler needs the chance to learn.”

“Okay then,” Crater said, and turned to Stan. “Sure are a lot of changes happening around here.”

“Sure are.” Stan nodded sagely. “There sure are.”

A lot of changes? Tyler glanced at Kit in disbelief. The only change to the Dusty Saddle so far was that he was behind the bar. Kit’s eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. She loved her regulars but she clearly got the joke.

Kit motioned him over to the Guinness tap. “Okay, this is serious stuff. Are you paying attention?”

“Sure.” He was, but it was difficult, because she smelled good. He’d noticed it earlier, too. Some sort of sweet, spicy scent that interfered with coherent thought.

“Okay, so with Guinness, use the tulip pint glasses.” She pulled one from above the tap. “See how they have a big curve in the side?”

He took the glass and tilted it. “I see it.”

“Fill the glass to the bottom of that curve. Then turn the tap off.”

“Sounds doable.” He put the glass underneath the tap and went to pull it.

“Wait.” Kit covered his hand on the tap with hers. “Tilt the glass at a forty-five-degree angle.”

He liked how it looked, her small white hand with sexy wine-colored fingernails over his tanned knuckles. How was he supposed to focus?

“Okay, now we’re going to pull the tap forward, slowly. Guinness has to slide down the side of the glass. Otherwise it gets too foamy.”

He was stuck on the word slide and how her husky voice was low for only him to hear. He tried to ignore the feel of her hand on his, that scent surrounding him now, the heat of her as she stood so close to his side. He watched the way the dark liquid moved down the glass, breathed her in and...

“Enough.” She brought his hand back so they closed the tap. “Set the glass down right here. Gently.”

Together they lowered the Guinness. “Now just let it stand there.”

“This is quite a process.” Tyler stepped back, needing a little air, a little distance from her and her perfume and the way it made him want to wrap his arms around her lush curves. Which was totally inappropriate. They were at work, and she worked for him.

“It’s an art. A lot of bartending is. Whether it’s crafting a cocktail or making someone feel a little less alone for a while, it all takes practice and attention to details.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.