Too late, I realize my mistake. I haven’t even talked to Lucy about the calls I’ve been getting, but with my emotions at the boiling point, my mind just slipped. Luke, the big macho protector that he’s always been, isn’t going to be happy without hearing what got me driving over to Hazel’s on a Tuesday night either.
I sigh. “I promise, I’ll fill you in later, but please, Luke, let me just forget about it all for a little while?”
He nods, but I can tell he isn’t happy about giving in. One big, thickly muscled arm waves toward the door in a sweeping gesture for me to proceed. And even though he seems to be caving, I know a long talk will be coming. I just need to make sure I’ve had enough to drink so that I’m too intoxicated to deal with that chat tonight.
The heavy wall of smoke slams into me as we enter the bar. I always thought it was funny that Luke would go outside to have a cigarette when walking into Hazel’s is probably the equivalent of smoking an entire pack of cigarettes in just one go. Most nonsmokers find the scent repugnant, but not me. I’ve always loved the smell of smoke—any kind of smoke—even if that is weird as hell.
An old Alan Jackson song booms through the air as we walk through the crowded bar. I feel the earlier tension slide off my body with each step and I know I made the right call in coming here. Luke grabs my arms, stopping me before I almost walk into a big, burly man, and pulls me to his side, securing me in place with an arm over my shoulders. I look up at him, smiling when I see his handsome face scowling down at me.
“What?” I mouth up at him, my smile growing.
He just shakes his head, continuing to guide me through the crowded room until we’re at the very end of the U-shaped bar, closest to his office. He taps the shoulder of a man sitting down and, without a word, waves his hand in some sort of code that must say, Get the hell up, because the young cowboy doesn’t even pause, sliding off the stool and disappearing into a darkened corner.
“You, sit.” Luke pushes me toward the empty stool and crosses his arms with a glare at the men closest to the seat he demanded I take.
“You could say please, you know,” I mumble under my breath, but I still follow his order.
“Could, but I won’t.”
“No surprise there, Lukie.”
He bends down until his nose is touching mine. “Watch the ‘Lukies’ in here, Carrie.”
“Whatever. How about a drink, Mr. Bartender?”
“Not joking, sweetheart. Don’t want the men in here to think you’re fair game.”
“Look around, Luke. No one is worried about me.” I don’t know if that’s actually true, but seeing as I’ve never been the type to turn a bar full of men’s attention my way, I’m fairly confident in my assessment.
“Blind as a damn bat,” he mutters loud enough for me to hear clearly over the noise, not backing away.
I open my mouth to give him a smart-ass retort but stop when I hear a deep, rumbling laugh to my side. I look over, not seeing much apart from the dark cowboy hat next to me. Its owner’s face is concealed by shadows as he looks down at the golden-colored liquor in his glass. I can see a stubbled, very strong jaw though—the deliciously strong kind that’s angled in such a way you could swear on a stack of Bibles on Sunday morning that someone carved it straight out of stone.
“Just please, stay here and out of trouble. You need to use the little girls’ room, do it in my office. I can’t run this place if I’m constantly worried about you.”
“Got her, Luke,” the stranger next to me mumbles loud enough to be heard over the music, still not looking up from his glass.
Luke flicks his gaze in my neighbor’s direction, and even though there’s no way he can see the man’s face, he nods before pulling his attention away and back on me. “Be good, sweetheart.”
He turns and stomps away.
“I’m always good!” I yell at his back, making the man next to me chuckle in such a low-pitched, manly way I almost feel like calling it a chuckle would be a sin. “What? I am,” I defend.
“Sure you are, sugar.” His deep, velvety smooth voice causes a wave of awareness to wash over me.
“Not that it matters, since I don’t know you and all, but I’ll have you know I’m the very definition of good. I wouldn’t know how to be bad if it bit me in the butt.”
He turns his head toward me. I’m unable to see his face, which is still hidden by the shadows, but I can feel his eyes on me. Their scrutiny is almost like a physical caress. “That so?” he rumbles after another few pounding heartbeats of silent study.