Country Roads(37)

As he rumbled along the main street, he saw the Traveller Inn, and a different sort of restlessness seized him. He swung into the parking lot and leaped out of the car, taking the front steps two at a time.

“Is Ms. Castillo in her room?” he asked the receptionist.

“Let me call up and see.” The receptionist reached for her phone.

“It’s all right. I’ll just go find out for myself.” He pivoted on his heel and headed for the stairs.

Rapping on Julia’s door, he stood still to listen for movement and was relieved when footsteps creaked across the old floor-boards.

“Paul!” She stood in jeans and a fancy printed T-shirt, her feet bare, her hair a red cloud around her shoulders. She had some smudgy black marks on her face. “Is something wrong?” she asked. “You look…strange.”

He grimaced comically in an attempt to wipe away whatever expression she found disturbing. “I just need a drink. Care to join me?”

Her face lit up. “Sure. Let me clean up. I’ve got charcoal all over me.”

“Is that what this is?” He stepped in and threaded his fingers into her hair as he rubbed his thumb over a blotch on her cheek. Gratification whipped through him as her eyes went wide and incandescent at his touch. “I think I made it worse,” he said, giving her cheek a little brush.

She reached up to touch the smudge, her eyes locked on his. He had to twine his fingers together behind his back to keep from seizing her by the shoulders and backing her onto the couch so he could crush his body against hers.

“Scoot!” he said to keep himself from scaring the bejesus out of her. “I’m thirsty as an opossum in the Sahara Desert.”

She cast him a dubious look. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”

“That’s because I just made it up.”

Laughing, she backed up. “Should I change my clothes?”

He took the opportunity to do a slow scan of the hip-hugging jeans and figure-outlining T-shirt. She flushed and shifted slightly under his gaze, so he lifted his eyes to her face. “Nope, you meet every rule of the Black Bear’s dress code. Except for the lack of shoes.”

“You enjoyed doing that.”

“Damn straight.” He felt about ten times better already.



A blast of Willie Nelson hit Julia as she walked ahead of Paul into the Black Bear. Neon beer signs cast a rainbow of colors over the packed-in denizens of the dimly lit bar area. Then Willie was nearly drowned out by the chorus of greetings shouted at her escort.

Paul smiled, nodded, and exchanged gibes, putting a hand at the small of her back to move them through the crowd and toward a larger room filled with booths and tables.

As they broke free of the bar crowd, a waitress walked up to them. “Hey, Paul, honey, you want the usual?”

“You know it, Debbie.” He dipped his head so his mouth was beside Julia’s ear. “What’s your tipple?”

“Er, Budweiser?” It was the only beer she could think of, since she usually drank wine. This didn’t look like a chardonnay kind of place.

“Give her a Sam Adams.” His breath brushed her ear again. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“There’s a two-top in the back room with a Reserved sign on it,” the waitress said. “It’s all yours.”

He saluted his thanks with a touch of his fingers to his forehead and steered Julia between the tables. The press of his palm against her waist made her feel claimed, the possessive gesture sending a shimmer of nerves dancing up her spine. Several people invited them to join their parties, but Paul slid past them with a wave and a joke.

He guided her through a wide arch to a small round table tucked into a corner. He held her chair and then pulled his around to sit close beside her, so their backs were to the room.

“Sorry to crowd you,” he said, “but I don’t want to make you shout across the table.”

“I’m not complaining.” In fact, she was contemplating the heat generated by his thigh brushing against hers as he shifted in his chair. “Do they save a table for you every Friday night?”

“No, Debbie just has sympathy for my plight.”

“What plight?”

“The curse of having everyone in town feel free to interrupt my conversation with a gorgeous, fascinating woman.”

She wasn’t used to being flirted with. A little ball of nervousness whirled in her chest. “So where is this extraordinary woman you keep referring to?”

He threw back his head and laughed. Then he draped his arm over the back of her chair and brought his mouth beside her ear again. “She’s sitting right beside me, making me wish like hell we were alone instead of in a noisy bar.”