Country Roads(38)

“Hey, Paul, I brought you doubles in case I don’t get back here anytime soon.” The waitress plunked down two frosted mugs and four bottles of Sam Adams.

“You’re a treasure, Deb,” Paul said, shifting away from Julia so she could breathe again. For a long moment his words and touch had sucked all the oxygen out of her lungs.

Using the neck of a beer bottle to tilt one of the mugs, Paul allowed the cold brew to pour down the inside of the glass without foaming. As the mug filled, he adjusted the angle until the base sat on the table and the liquid stopped just below the lip.

“You’ve got good hands,” she said.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t feed a man a line like that.”

Julia felt a blush creep up her cheeks so she grabbed the mug and took a generous gulp. The crisp tang of the ice-cold beer sliding over her tongue made her close her eyes to savor it.

As she opened them, she glanced sideways. Paul was looking at her, his silvery eyes blazing hot in the dimness of the bar. When their gazes met, he turned away and took a long swig of beer directly from his bottle.

“Taggart, you son of a gun, you owe me a rematch.” A barrel-chested man in a plaid flannel shirt and a John Deere baseball cap yanked a chair over to their table, turned it backward, and straddled it. He held a beer bottle in one hand as he rested his crossed arms on the chair’s back.

Paul cursed under his breath, and his arm tightened around her back. “Dave, can’t you see I have a guest?”

“Evening, ma’am,” Dave said, nodding to her pleasantly. “I’m Dave Herndon.”

His total lack of concern at Paul’s obvious displeasure made her stifle a giggle. She held out her hand. “I’m Julia Castillo.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He pumped her hand. When he let go, he shook his own hand slightly. “May I just say that you have a very powerful handshake?”

She smiled.

“Dave,” Paul tried again, “Julia and I are having a private conversation.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come to the Bear.” Dave grinned through his scruff of blond beard. “You know I’ve been waiting for a rematch. Since you haven’t been here in weeks, I couldn’t let the opportunity slip by.”

“Well, that may be how you treat your dates, but I’m not leaving Julia alone while I play foosball with a hooligan like you,” Paul said. “In fact, that pretty much explains why you don’t have any dates.”

Dave took a swig of beer. “Good try, but you’re not going to get rid of me with insults.” He looked at Julia. “Ma’am, did you know that Paul here is the state champeen of foosball and made it all the way to the quarterfinals of nationals?”

She shook her head. Paul’s fingers played an irritated tattoo on the back of her chair.

“You ever seen him play?”

An imp of mischief made her say, “No, but I’d like to.”

“The pretty lady wants you to play too.” Dave pushed his hat farther back with the lip of his beer bottle.

“All right, you’ve got yourself a rematch,” Paul said, tightening his arm around Julia and pulling her upright as he stood.

“Not so fast,” Dave said, still sitting. “You said you’d play with a handicap next time, to make it a challenge.”

She felt Paul’s sigh as his rib cage expanded against hers. “Fine, I won’t use the three rod.”

“I got a better idea.” He looked at Julia. “Ma’am, have you ever played foosball?”

She shook her head, wondering why he cared.

Dave’s eyes lit up with sly amusement. “Then she’s on your goalie rod.”

“Done,” Paul said.

“What? That’s not fair,” she protested, jerking her gaze up to his face. “I don’t even know what a goalie rod looks like!”

“You don’t have to do anything but stand there with your hand on the handle,” Paul said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, ain’t you?” Dave pushed up from his chair.

“Against you? I could win blindfolded with one hand tied behind my back.”

She could feel tension vibrating through Paul’s body, and his smile had an edge, as though he were anticipating the battle. The easy, polished veneer she’d become accustomed to seemed to melt, and she could glimpse the flash of steel underneath. She might be out of her depth with this man.

He kept his arm around her as he followed Dave into a large room crammed with people competing against each other at various games. Clanging, flashing pinball machines lined one wall, while hissing air hockey platforms commanded the other side. The center of the room was given over to the slam and whack of foosball.