Tiny Dancer(Divine Creek Ranch 13)(53)

Camilla snorted with laughter. “Come to the dark side. We have chocolate…and lube.”

“So recommend a good sex toy Web site to me, Camilla.”

Camilla was about to speak when her bartender radar went off. Patrick Owen sat right next to Lucy, who evidently hadn’t noticed that they’d gained an avid audience to their conversation. “Hi, Patrick, how are you this evening?” Lucy suddenly looked around as though searching for someone else and then sagged in relief. Beck O’Malley usually hung out at the long curving bar with Patrick but he was missing at the moment. Understanding dawned on Camilla.

“Pretty good, Camilla. How about a double Crown and water and a refill of whatever the lady is having. If she’s amenable, that is.”

Camilla glanced at Lucy for confirmation, giving her the don’t-be-a-chickenshit stare. This was a perfect chance for her to try out her newfound resolve. Lucy looked over at Patrick and then nodded at Camilla.

She heard Lucy’s soft “thank you” as she reached for the bottle behind the bar. Ben sidled up to her with his arms crossed over his chest. Her nipples peaked with awareness as his gaze flicked up and down her body. I thought I could fight my attraction to him? Was I crazy?

In a soft voice, he said, “Why is it that you’re even hotter in those tight jeans and boots than you were half naked dressed in short-shorts?”

“Aw, these old things? Maybe it’s because now you’re picturing me naked…accurately. Besides, it’s colder than a well-digger’s ass outside.” The first decent cold front of the year had blown in behind the storms, and she didn’t want to tempt fate.

The car dealership had been able to fix the problem that had caused her Camaro to break down and get it back to her that afternoon so she had transportation. When Ben and Quinten had made a move to pay for the repair, she’d put her foot down and taken care of the bill herself, which was only right. It was her problem. That was why she had an emergency fund.

“Quinten was betting me that you were talking about stripping to Lucy.”

“He’d have won that bet. I need to talk to y’all about using the dance floor during nonbusiness hours. I’ve been getting a lot of requests for striptease lessons lately.”

“Is our dance floor big enough?”

“A woman can strip in a much smaller space if she’s of a mind to,” she replied with a smirk and a snicker.

“Hell, don’t remind me. I won’t be able to walk upright.” She giggled when he repositioned himself after turning away from the sparse but happily occupied crowd at the bar. “As long as you’re not actually stripping naked, that’s fine with me. I’ll let Ethan know and see what he says.”

“Thank you, handsome.” She winked at him when he grinned at her and returned to what he’d been doing earlier.

Turning her attention to mixing Patrick’s drink, she glanced in the mirror and then smiled to herself. Lucy was carrying on a quiet conversation with him.

Camilla liked Patrick a lot. He was easy to get along with, never caused any trouble in the club, never drank to excess. Except for the night he’d discovered his wife, at the time, had been having an affair and had a baby with another man. On top of that, she’d plotted misdeeds against the women who ran Discretion Boutique in Morehead, and who were also Camilla’s friends. He’d gotten plastered that night. Since then, he’d kept himself out of trouble and mostly sat and talked with Beck O’Malley, who was absent that night.

Camilla sensed that Beck O’Malley was somehow a part of Lucy’s struggle with self-confidence. Beck was as sweet as they came, but the man had a gift for putting his foot in his mouth.

Camilla placed their drinks in front of them and left them to their conversation as she quickly washed the dirty glasses that had accumulated by the sink and refilled the frozen margarita machine. The slow pace of the evening gave her time to think about the events of the last couple of days, and she smiled. She’d always enjoyed working with Ben and Quinten because both men were so laid-back and solid. She could now look back at their occasional confrontations over the last few months and see that they’d been struggling with the attraction as much as she had. Seen through that light, their behavior, although unbearably Neanderthal at times, was understandable.

At least they weren’t as bad as Tyler had been at the Dollhouse before he’d been arrested and sent to prison. His jealousy made Ben and Quinten look like a couple of pussycats by comparison. All a man had to do, whether fellow employee or club patron, was accidentally touch her or brush against her and he became volatile.