Just Want Somebody to Love. Keri Ford
leaned around. “Friends don’t keep secrets like that.”
Tasha glanced to her. “For real. What the heck?”
Kara chuckled as she leaned in. “I haven’t thought about it since this afternoon. And I don’t know for sure, but I think that’s Bartender Brandon’s brother.”
Whitney straightened. Brandon had a brother? No. The man couldn’t have lived here this long with that kind of secret. If Whitney so much as stepped in a pot hole and turned her ankle, the whole town knew about it in under an hour. “Where did you hear that?”
“I saw Kent at the grocery store. He mentioned overhearing Maddy talking to Ashley about Brandon’s brother. He asked me if I’d heard anything.”
“You lost me at Maddy.” Two-face jerk.
Kara shrugged. “That’s just what Kent said, and since there’s a new guy who’s also behind the bar—where Brandon doesn’t let anyone—plus the rumor, equals that’s gotta be him.”
The blond God sat a drink on the bar, collected money from some kid on the other end, and walked their way with a grin made for melting things. Like her clothes. And maybe her knees too, but since she wasn’t using them at the moment, she couldn’t be sure.
He braced his hands apart on the bar and leaned toward them. “Hi, ladies. How we doing this evenin’?”
Tasha wasted no time and turned on her charm. “Better now.”
“Good.” He smiled at Kara, then at her, tossing her a wink to go with his cheeky grin like a side of fries.
A wink. Oh my Lord, cheap squirt cheese on an off-brand cracker. The chill that went through her, though? Man oh, man, all the bumps along her skin kicked up their heels and danced. She hoped he’d do it again.
He returned his gaze to Tasha. “Did I hear you say something non-alcoholic?”
She nodded. “Pineapple juice will be fine if you have it.”
“If we don’t, my brother’s losing his bar owner’s card.” He backed a step, and Whitney’s tongue weighed heavy in her mouth.
Nice. Very, very nice. Those broad shoulders tapered into a flat stomach. His thighs filled out his jeans. He pulled a can of pineapple juice out from under the bar, poured it over ice, and passed it off to Tasha. His hands were a pair of gripping, fucking kind of hands she’d like all over her.
The Bartender that fell from heaven looked at Kara. “You?”
“Dr. Pepper with a little of vanilla vodka. Not much.”
He pulled out a bottle, a glass, vodka, and got busy until a fizzy drink appeared on the bar. He pinned Whitney next and, my goodness, the man radiated hotness. “Best for last. What’ll it be?”
Excellent question. Sparks arced through her brain at rapid paces and were doing a darn good job at snapping up her thoughts. He just stared on, and she managed to scramble some words together. “Something with rum.”
“The lady wants some Captain in her?” Strong jaw, likable dimples, and eyes to drown in. He knew it too. “How do you want it?”
Hot, sweaty, and around back in five? Her brain fainted.
Items and names of things collapsed and left her with awesome clear thoughts of things he could do with his hands. Things that had nothing do with a drink. Such as, she’d love to see him make a pile of his clothes in her bedroom. Get his shirt, concealing the best parts of him, out of the way made priority one. The button on his jeans scored her second action. Fingertips under the band of his underwear, if he was even wearing underwear, ranked third. She found her gaze dipping where her thoughts circled, concerning the state of things behind his zipper. Tasha nudged her with her elbow and knocked her out of her trance.
Time and a place and neither fit this situation. She cleared her throat, still empty for an idea. “Surprise me.”
“Challenge accepted.” His eyes left hers, and he pulled bottles together so fast, she couldn’t keep up. He filled a tumbler with a variety for things, and a red drink was in front of her. “That should do you just fine.”
She sipped. The fire of the rum warmed her throat, but the tangy sweetness of cranberry cooled it down. “Well done.”
His grin never stopped. “I know.”
“How much do we owe you?”
He leaned a little closer. “I haven’t decided. You’ll have me back before you leave, though. I’ll let you know then.” And with that, he scooted to the other end of the bar.
Cocky. She liked it. Got her curious enough to lean over the bar for another look at him. Looked like she wasn’t the only curious one as he glanced her way and tossed another wink. It went through her better than the liquid heat in her glass that would have her tipsy by the smell. “Maybe we should have eaten something besides candy for supper.”
“Too late now,” said the pregnant one who didn’t have to worry about making a fool of herself. “With a bar full of people, you need to figure out how to start holding your liquor so you’ll be the last one to leave if you want a shot at that.”
Short people weren’t known for being good drinkers. She could verify that theory from experience, and she didn’t put on enough holiday weight to give the liquor more places to go. Whitney nursed her drink. “How long do you think all these people will be here?”
“It’s Saturday night.” Tasha leaned over. “How long did you two used to stay in here?”
“Uh.”
Kara scratched the side of her head. “Later than I want to think about.”
Whitney leaned around Tasha. “Did you hear how long he’ll be in town?”
“All I know is what I told you.”
That was not nearly enough information. She did a little adjusting of her shirt as he pulled a rag off his shoulder and wiped over the countertop before he returned. A man who cleaned? My goodness, if he got any better, she’d combust right here on this stool. The corner of his lips tipped up, and her internal temperature inched higher a few more degrees. “The three of you look to be plotting.”
Tasha already had her shirt tugged down while Kara steadily sucked on her drink. Whitney wasn’t leaving this up to either of them. “We were wondering how long you’d be in town.”
The corner of his lips pulled a little higher, and bam, there it was. Dimple. Can vaginas sigh? “Tomorrow. Maybe as far as Monday morning. If the three of you are plotting to kidnap me, tonight is your best option.”
“Tonight?” She tried wincing, but doubted she stopped the grin to pull it off. “That’s a tight timeline. Didn’t you just get here?”
“Just a quick trip this time.”
“That sounds like you might be back.” She found herself leaning closer, but not as close as she’d like. Curse this high bar. “We could plan it for your next visit. Can you give us a heads up to make it easier?”
“You want me to help plot my own kidnapping?”
“If you’re up to it.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. I’m not against three beautiful women taking me as their prisoner.”
More smiling. “What’s your name?”
His hands were clasped and rested just before hers on the bar. They looked just right to reach out and touch her. “Justin. Yours?”
“Whitney.”
A group of women at the far end of the bar laughed and erupted in cheers. Glasses hit the bar top. “Justin!” sounded out.
“Be right back,” he whispered.
“I’ll