Coming In From the Cold(13)

"You know he wants you, right?"

Willow uncapped the Beck's and the Corona and looked up. "What?"

"Travis," Callie said. "He likes you. A lot."

Willow frowned, adding a wedge of lime to the Corona's bottleneck. The  Bud was on tap, so she grabbed a pint glass off the rack and dispensed  it with a flourish. "I don't see that."

"Then you're blind."

Willow set all the drinks on a tray and then leaned on the bar in front  of Callie. "In other news, I had a small bit of luck last week."

"You mean, other than getting lucky?"

Willow put a finger to her lips. "Don't make me regret telling you about  that, Callie. It's not a story I'd share with anyone else."

"We can't have drivers of Jeeps everywhere propositioning you."

"Right."

"Oh, Willow," Callie sighed. "I'm just jealous. I'm single for the first  time in three years, and life at the hospital is all drudgery."                       
       
           



       

Willow reached across the bar and rubbed her arm. "I'm so sorry."

"Wait, I'm so busy whining I forgot to hear your lucky news."

"I rented out the apartment."

"Hurray!" Her friend applauded. "That's great. How?"

Willow shrugged. "I was going to make a new sign, but I got the call  first. My new tenant is some kind of coach working at the mountain until  spring. He was very apologetic that he only needed four months. And I'm  jumping for joy, of course, just to have someone for that long."

"Is he hot?"

Willow smiled. "I'm happy to introduce you. He looks to be about sixty-five years old, but with a nice, friendly face."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Figures. But still, I'm so glad for you. That's a big relief, isn't it?"

"It will keep the bill collectors at bay. Maybe he can recommend another tenant by the time he goes."

Annie came into the bar again, with another of her illegible order  slips. Willow hopped down to look at it before she could leave. "Does  this say a White Russian? A Dirty Martini … and what's this last one?"

"A Shirley Temple."

"Right." Willow looked around, wondering why there weren't any cherries  alongside the lemon and lime wedges that Travis had left for her. Where  were the cherries? Willow squatted down to inspect the shelves below the  bar. Travis had all manner of ingredients down here-Worcestershire  sauce, different sorts of olives in jars. "My kingdom for a jar of  cherries," she grumbled. "Who knew I could be undone by a Shirley  Temple?"

"Wills?" Callie called her. "You have another customer."

"Just a sec … " Willow put the olives back onto the shelf and stood up  quickly. There was now a man seated a couple of seats away from Callie.

Holy hell.

It was Dane. And he was every bit as surprised as she was, his bright  blue eyes opening wide. Willow froze for a moment, her heart stuttering.  She took a half step back, bumping into the beer cooler. Grabbing a tap  to steady herself she accidentally dispensed a short stream of ale  before righting herself. Her face began to flush to a deep red.

"Hi," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Hi." She stared at him.

"You're not Travis," he said.

"Right." She cleared her throat. "I'm just covering for him so he can see his kid's peewee hockey game."

Their staring match was interrupted by one of the lifties. "Hey, hottie! Get down here a minute."

Willow wiped her hands on her apron. "And no good deed goes unpunished," she said. "Excuse me."

"I'm thirsty." The lifty waved her over. "Another Guinness, honey?"

"Coming right up," Willow sighed. At the taps, she began pulling a  Guinness into a pint glass, tipping it carefully to avoid a head. "What  can I get you?" she asked Dane over her shoulder.

"Um," he said. "I'd love a cheeseburger," he said.

"Food … " she said. "Tricky. Give me a minute." She took the Guinness down  to the asshole at the end. Then she leaned over the bar to call into  the next room. "Hey, Annie!"

A moment later the waitress appeared. "Where are my drinks?" she said by way of a greeting.

"Almost there," Willow promised. "Do you happen to know where Travis keeps the maraschino cherries?"

"Did you check the fridge?" she asked.

Willow felt herself flush again. Where was her brain? "As a matter of fact, I did not."

Annie snorted.

Willow leaned down for the bar refrigerator. "I thought they were  indestructible," she said under her breath. "I think they found some at  Pompeii. I'll have your cocktails in two shakes," she grabbed the cold  jar of cherries. "Could you take a food order for this gentleman,  please?" She nodded at Dane, as if he were a complete stranger. If he  wanted to pretend their night together never happened, then that's what  she'd do, too.

Annie lumbered over to him, jutting her boobs into his face. "The usual? Cheddar burger medium rare, onion rings and a Corona?"

"Great," Dane said, leaning back an inch or two.

To Willow, Annie said, "If I'm taking his food order, I'm going to put the beer under my number, too."

"Knock yourself out," she replied without looking up.

When Annie left, Callie spoke up. "I wonder if she delivers the food on those things, too?"

Willow heard Dane snort from behind the sports section.                       
       
           



       

She made a Shirley Temple, putting two cherries into the glass. "The kid will thank you for that," Callie said.

"Right?" Willow asked, trying to keep her cool. "That's the whole point  of ordering a Shirley Temple. The cherry. So, why not an extra?" She put  the drinks on a tray, then carried them down the empty expanse of bar.  "It can be my signature drink. The Shirley Temple, with an extra  cherry." Now she was babbling.

When Willow put the tray of drinks back down, the lifty nearest to her  clamped a hand down on her wrist, trapping her there. "I'll take your  cherry, honey," he said, leering up at her.

Her breath caught. Was there no end to this evening's humiliations? The  asshole did not release his grip. As she stared the lifty down, there  was a movement down the bar. From the corner of her eye, Willow saw Dane  set down his newspaper and slowly push back his stool.

"It's a bad idea," Willow said, her voice steady, and her eyes narrowing  at the dope across from her, "to be crude to the woman who controls  your supply of beer."

Even as Dane moved closer to their little standoff, the lifty released her arm.

Feeling that she had something to prove, Willow didn't leap back just yet. "Now what do you say?" she pressed.

"Um, sorry? Can I have a refill?"

"I didn't hear the magic word," she said.

"Please?"

"That's better," she said, heading for the taps.

Silently, Dane reversed course, heading in the direction of the men's room.

Breathe, Willow, she told herself. Her heart was beating double time,  and not because of the jerk who'd grabbed her arm. The sight of Dane had  flustered her to the core. In the first place, he was about ten times  as sexy as she remembered. It had been hard not to stare as he shrugged a  red ski-team jacket off broad shoulders. And three or four days' growth  of whiskers on his cut, masculine jaw made her want to reach over and  measure the roughness with her fingers. She'd noticed him watching her,  his intelligent eyes taking her in. The proximity was enough to drive  her crazy.

For two weeks she'd been thinking about him. Sometimes she would  remember the exact moment he'd first kissed her in the Jeep, and  wherever she was-in the checkout line of the grocery store or sitting at  the desk at her temp job-her eyes would go wide with disbelief. Images  of him came to her unbidden. She'd picture his muscular chest hovering  over her in bed and instantly go all squishy inside.

She hadn't missed the fact that he'd been prepared to yank the drunk off  of her, either. He would do that for her. Yet he didn't want to see her  again.

Why?

Willow shook her head. She poured two Buds for the lifties and tried not  to be excited about seeing him tonight. I'm not boyfriend material,  he'd said. But he'd said it before their amazing time together. And  everything that happened after had been so electric.

Hope was a mean thing.

Callie waved Willow over. "The guy who ordered the burger-oh, my lord." She fanned herself. "Did you get a good look at him?"

Willow rubbed her forehead with both hands. "Why?" She had told Callie about the whole encounter-but she'd never said his name.