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A Brevia Beginning
Michelle Major
The higher your walls…Lexi Preston has gone from the courtroom to the barroom–as the world's worst waitress at Brevia's hot spot Riley's Bar. Lexi's back in town to right old wrongs, not to fall in love–but she's finding it awfully hard to avoid her impossibly gorgeous new boss.The harder you fallFormer U.S. marshal Scott Callahan is still grieving his partner's death–and recovering from one drunken night when he bought himself a bar. Scott just can't deal with the way Lexi makes him feel. The ravishing redhead might get his heart racing, but she couldn't take an order if her life depended on it! Will Scott resist Lexi and all she has to offer, or will he find the love he's always craved?


“I’d threaten you with a sexual harassment lawsuit but you flirt with everyone at the bar except me. Why is that?”
“You’re the one pressed up against me.” He shifted, somehow drawing her closer without pulling her to him. “Who’s doing the harassing?”
He was right, but she could sense that his need matched her own. In the quiet intimacy of her apartment, it made her bold enough to ask, “Does this feel like harassment, Scott?”
“This feels like heaven,” he whispered. “But I didn’t come here for this. I’m no good for you.”
“That’s the point. I’m looking for a wild adventure and developing a new fondness for things that aren’t good for me.”
He took her arms and lifted them around his neck. Her head tilted and he brushed his lips against hers. Finally. It felt like she’d been waiting for this kiss her entire life.
And it was worth it.
A Brevia Beginning
Michelle Major


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio, but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com (http://www.michellemajor.com).


To my grandmother, Ruth Keller,
for believing in me and my writing
from the time I was a little girl. I love you, Gram.
Contents
Chapter One (#u3874338c-319f-577f-a384-c6f31ce7d0d8)
Chapter Two (#u77564628-9b23-5f83-a14d-e26f9a79b31f)
Chapter Three (#uf680a132-38bc-502e-a039-71d2653aa77c)
Chapter Four (#u4b78af0a-36d3-54cd-a750-1a9484b91e9a)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
The street was deserted in the early-morning hours. Sunlight slanted over the roofs of the brick buildings as Lexi Preston huddled on the front stoop of a dark storefront. She rested her head in her hands and watched the wind swirl a small pile of autumn leaves. The air held a chill, but it felt good after being stuck in her car for the last day and a half.
Almost six months had passed since she’d set foot in Brevia, North Carolina. She couldn’t imagine the reception she’d receive, but was desperate enough not to care. Her eyes drifted shut—just for a minute, she told herself—but she must have fallen asleep. When she blinked them open again it was to the bright sun shining and someone nudging a foot against hers. She scrambled to her feet, embarrassed to be caught so off guard.
“What the hell do you want?” Julia Callahan’s voice cut through the quiet.
Lexi backed away a few steps. Yes, she was desperate, but Julia had every reason to hate her. Still, she whispered, “I need your help. I have nowhere else to go.”
Julia’s delicate eyebrows rose. Lexi wished she had the ability to communicate so much without speaking. She could almost feel the anger radiating from the other woman. But Julia’s furrowed brow and pinched lips did nothing to detract from her beauty. She was thin, blonde and several inches taller than Lexi. The epitome of the Southern prom queen grown up. Lexi knew there was more to her than that. After all, she’d spent months researching every detail of Julia Callahan’s life.
“You tried to take my son away from me.” Julia shook her head. “Why would I have any inclination to help you?”
“I made sure you kept him in the end,” Lexi said, adjusting her round glasses. “Don’t forget I was the one who gave you the information that made the Johnsons rescind their custody suit.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Julia answered. “It doesn’t explain why you’re on the doorstep of my salon. Or what kind of help you need.”
Lexi crossed her arms over her chest as her stomach began to roll. She should have stopped for breakfast on the way into town. “They found out it was me,” she continued. “Dennis and Maria Johnson fired my father’s firm as their corporate attorneys. Several of their friends followed. We lost over half our business.”
Her voice faltered as memories of her father’s rage and disappointment assaulted her. She cleared her throat. “In response, my dad made a big show of humiliating me in front of the entire firm. Then he officially fired and practically disowned me.”
Lexi had worked for her father’s firm since she graduated from law school six years ago. Following in his footsteps, doing whatever he expected, had been her overriding goal in life. She still lived in the apartment he’d paid for since college. Her eviction notice had come two days ago.
She drew a steadying breath. “He said he regretted the day I’d come into his life. That I’m nothing more than...”
“Your father is an ass.” Julia’s clear assessment almost made Lexi smile.
“True,” she agreed, blinking against the sudden moisture in her eyes. “But he’s all I have. Or had.”
“What about other family?”
“I was adopted when I was six. I was in the foster-care system and barely remember my biological mother. My dad never married. He was an only child and my grandparents died years ago.”
“Friends?”
“I have work acquaintances, country-club cliques and clients. I’m not very good at making friends.”
“It’s probably hard to be a backstabbing, underhanded, slimy lawyer and a good friend at the same time.”
Although the words hurt, Lexi couldn’t help but hear the truth in them. “I guess.”
“Sheesh. That was a joke.” Julia stepped past her and turned a key in the front door. “Lighten up, Lex.”
Lexi followed her into the empty salon, the emotional roller coaster of the past week finally sending her off the rails. “Are you kidding?” she yelled. “I just told you that my life is destroyed because I saved you and your son. I have nothing. No job. No home. No friends. No family. And you want me to lighten up?”
Julia flipped on a bank of lights and turned. “Actually, I want you to tell me how I’m supposed to help. Other than playing the tiniest violin in the world in your honor. I appreciate what you did for me. But we both know you put me through hell trying to give custody of Charlie to my ex-boyfriend’s family. That doesn’t exactly make us long-lost besties.”
“I want a fresh start.”
“So make one.”
“It’s not that easy. As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m twenty-seven years old and my father has controlled every aspect of my life. Hell, he even handpicked a personal shopper to make sure I always projected the right image. The image he chose for me. Since the moment I came to live with him, I’ve wanted to make him happy, make him believe I was worthy of his love and the money he spent on me.”
She ran her hands through her hair and began to pace between the rows of styling chairs. “I’d never done anything without his approval until I gave you that file. I don’t regret it. You’re a great mother and I feel awful about my part in the custody suit.”
“You should,” Julia agreed.
Lexi sighed. “If I could take it all back, I would. I know it was wrong. But helping you cost my father a lot. I thought he’d understand and forgive me.”
“He still might.”
“I don’t know if I want him to. At least not on his terms. I don’t want to be the same kind of attorney my dad is. I don’t even know if I still want to be a lawyer. I need time to breathe. To figure out my next move. To make a choice in life for me, not because it’s what’s expected.” She paused and took a breath. “I thought maybe you could understand that.”
Julia studied her for a few moments. “Maybe I can.”
Lexi swallowed her embarrassment and continued, “If I stay in Brevia for a few weeks, I could figure out my options. I don’t want my father to find me. I don’t think he’s going to forgive me, but I do expect him to come looking. He likes the control and he’s not going to give that up so easily.”
She patted her purse. “I have five hundred dollars in cash. I don’t want to use credit cards or anything to help him track me. Not yet.”
“You’re kind of freaking me out. Is he dangerous?”
Lexi ran her hand along the edge of a shelf of styling products. “Not physically. But I’m not strong enough yet to stand on my own. Who knows if I’ll ever be. But I want to try. I liked Brevia when I was here. I admire you, Julia. Your fierceness and determination. I know you have no reason to help me, but I’m asking you to, anyway.”
“And you couldn’t have called on your way?”
“I’m sorry,” Lexi said quickly. “I wasn’t thinking. I just got in my car and started driving. This was the only place I could think of to go. But if you—”
Julia held up a hand. “This is probably more of my typical bad judgment, but I’ll help you.”
Lexi felt her knees go weak with relief. Julia Callahan was her first, last and only hope. She knew her father well enough to know he was punishing her. That when he felt as if she’d been gone long enough to learn her lesson, he’d pull her back. In the past, Lexi would have been scrambling to find a way to return to his good graces. Something had changed in her when she’d chosen her act of rebellion. From the start, she’d known he’d find out, and she’d understood there would be hell to pay. She also believed it couldn’t be worse than the hell she called a life.
“Thank you,” she whispered with a shaky breath. “I promise I won’t be an imposition on your life. I could answer phones or sweep up hair—whatever you need.”
“A job?” Julia looked confused. “I thought you needed moral support. You’re an attorney, for Pete’s sake. Why do you want to sweep the floors of a hair salon?”
“I’m licensed in North Carolina to practice, but if I register with the state’s bar association, my father will find me. I told you, I need time.”
“I’m going to make coffee. I need the caffeine.” The stylist looked over her shoulder at Lexi. “Have you had breakfast? We keep a stash of granola bars in the break room.”
Lexi followed her to the back of the building. “A granola bar would be great. And I really will help out with anything you need.”
Julia poured grounds into the coffee filter and filled the machine with water. She turned back to Lexi, shaking her head. “We start renovations next week on the salon’s expansion. I can’t hire anyone right now.”
“I get it. I appreciate the moral support. I guess.”
“No wonder your father can manipulate you so easily. Your emotions are written all over your face. You need to work on a tough exterior if you want to do okay on your own. Fake it till you make it, right? I thought lawyers were supposed to be excellent bluffers.”
Lexi slid into one of the folding chairs at the small table. “I’m not much of a bluffer. That’s why I was usually behind the scenes. I’m good at details and digging up dirt.”
“Yes, I remember,” Julia answered drily.
“Do you know anyone who’s hiring in Brevia? Just temporarily.”
A slow smile spread across Julia’s porcelain features. “Now that you mention it, I do know about an available job. One of the waitresses at the local bar had twins last night. They came about a month early and were practically born in the back of Sam’s police cruiser.”
“Are you thinking I’d make a good nanny?”
“I wouldn’t wish that job even on you. I’m thinking you’d make a perfect cocktail waitress.”
“I don’t drink,” Lexi said quickly.
“You have to serve the drinks. Not guzzle them yourself.”
Lexi unwrapped the granola bar Julia handed to her, her empty stomach grumbling in anticipation. “I don’t like those types of places.”
“I don’t like exercise,” the other woman countered, “but I still run five days a week.”
Lexi closed her eyes for a moment. Julia’s quick wit and no-nonsense attitude were what she’d initially found so fascinating. Almost a year ago, Lexi and her father had been hired by their longtime clients Dennis and Maria Johnson to investigate Julia’s life so they could try to take custody of her young son away from her. The boy’s biological father was the Johnsons’ son, Jeff.
Lexi knew if you threw enough money at a problem, it likely went away. But Julia had kept fighting. Sure, she had her problems, but Lexi had never seen someone stand up to people with so much power. Julia might have been faking her confidence some of the time, but it had made Lexi realize she didn’t have to be her father’s puppet forever.
Even if she owed him everything, didn’t she still deserve to make choices in her own life? To live life on her terms? She had to at least try.
“Could the work last six weeks?”
“I think so. Amy is going to have her hands full, but I know she doesn’t want to lose her job. She works at night, so she’ll be able to manage around the babies once she gets back on her feet.”
“It sounds good, although I don’t have any experience as a waitress.”
“Are you a quick learner?”
Lexi swallowed. “I made it through law school at the head of my class. I’m not sure how that applies to waitressing, but it’s all I’ve got.”
Julia watched her for another moment. “Are you sure you want to do this? It would be easier to go groveling to Daddy and beg him to give you back your cushy little life.”
Lexi stood. “I want a real life.”
“I know how that feels. I’ve got a place you can stay while you’re in town. Let me text my receptionist to come in early, then we can get you settled.” Julia took out her phone and began punching the keypad. “No offense, but you could use a shower and change of clothes.”
Lexi looked down at her wrinkled pants and the stain of coffee on her collared button-down. “I stayed at a cheap motel off the interstate last night,” she admitted. “The bathroom creeped me out too much to use this morning.”
“Clearly.” Julia finished her text, then grabbed a set of keys from a hook behind the door. “Are you ready?”
“As much as I appreciate your help, I can’t possibly impose and stay at your house,” Lexi argued.
“No doubt. You can have my apartment. With everything happening so quickly, I’m still on the lease. I’ve been subletting it to Sam’s dad, but Joe and my mom got married a few weeks ago. The place is empty.”
“Two family weddings in one year. Congrats, by the way.”
Julia smiled. “Thanks. It’s been a whirlwind but I’m happy.”
“Your relationship with Sam really started as a fake arrangement to help with the custody case?”
“It did, but then it became so much more.”
Lexi thought for a moment, then said, “I guess you could say that I’m partially responsible. Without the custody fight, who knows if or when you two would have gotten around to figuring out you’re perfect for each other.”
Julia laughed out loud. “Don’t push your luck. I said I’d help you. I’ll make sure you get the job, and sublet my apartment to you. I’ve got another three months on the lease. But as far as figuring out your life and growing a spine when it comes to your father, that’s all you.”
Lexi wondered if she’d ever be able to loosen her father’s hold. In the past she hadn’t realized how bad she wanted that. Now she did, and if this was her only chance to make it happen, she wasn’t going to blow it.
She nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “I’m going to give it my best shot.”
* * *
Scott Callahan heard the crash as he took another deep swallow from his glass of whiskey. He glanced toward the back of the bar as he jiggled the glass, determined to loosen every bit of liquor that clung to the melting ice.
“Sounds like she broke another one,” he said to the waitress who brought him a third round. His instructions upon his first order were clear: as soon as his glass was empty, he was ready for another. No questions asked and there’d be a hefty tip at the end of the night. When Scott drank, he did it fast and he did it alone.
In his case, misery did not love company.
“New girl,” the waitress answered. “The absolute worst I’ve ever seen.” She put the fresh glass on the table and picked up his empty. “Julia vouched for her, but it’s like she’s never even held a tray. Luke is desperate for the help. Hell, he’s desperate for a lot of things. But I don’t know if we have enough glasses in the back to keep her around much longer.”
Scott leaned back in his chair. “You said Julia vouched for her.” He nodded toward the red-faced pixie who came around the back of the bar. “That little mouse is friends with Julia—uh, Morgan?”
“Julia Callahan now,” the waitress corrected. “She married the town’s police chief a few months back.”
Scott nodded. “I’m happy for her. Do they make a good match?”
“Perfect.” The woman’s voice turned wistful. “Sam Callahan was the biggest catch this side of the county line. I never really pegged him for a family man. But he dotes on Julia’s boy. It’s true love.”
“Good for them,” Scott mumbled, not wanting to reveal his connection to Sam. He wrapped his fingers around the cool glass once more.
“How do you know Julia?”
He schooled his features into an emotionless mask. “Her hair salon.”
“I haven’t seen you in here before. You new to town?”
“Just passing through,” he said and took a sip. “Thanks for the fresh drink.”
“Sure.” Realizing the conversation was over, the waitress walked away.
Scott had been in enough bars in his time to know that a good waitress could sense when a customer wanted to chat and when to leave him alone. He was glad he’d sat in the section he had. The little mouse waitress, cute as she was, didn’t seem like someone who’d take a hint if you hung it around her neck. Not his type for certain.
He didn’t know what he expected from Brevia, North Carolina. He looked around the bar’s interior, from the neon signs glowing on the walls to the slightly sticky sheen on the wood floor. The bar ran along the back of the far wall although few stools were occupied. Not the most popular place in town, so no wonder there was a for-sale sign in the window. Still, the lack of customers suited him just fine. The watering holes he usually frequented in D.C. may have been classier and more historic. But as far as Scott was concerned, liquor was liquor and it didn’t really matter who poured it or where.
He closed his eyes for a moment and wondered what had brought him to Brevia tonight. After the blowout he’d had with his brother, Sam, at their dad’s wedding a few weeks ago, he’d vowed never to step foot in this town again. If he admitted the truth, he had no place else to go. No friends, no one who cared whether he showed up or not. His dad and brother might be the exception to that, but they were both too mad at him for it to matter now.
He drained his glass again. He liked the way alcohol eventually numbed him enough so the dark thoughts hovering in the corners of his mind disappeared. Maybe it had led to some stupid decisions, but it also took the edge off a little. And Scott had a lot of edges that needed attention.
As a few more patrons wandered out, Scott’s waitress came over to the table. “It’s a slow night, honey,” she told him. “I’m heading home. I could give you a ride somewhere or you could stop by my place for a nightcap.”
She said it so matter-of-factly, Scott almost missed the invitation in her voice. He glanced up. “What’s your name?”
“Tina.”
He flashed the barest hint of a smile. “Tina, trust me. You can do way better than me on any given night. Even in a town like Brevia.”
“I’m willing to take my chances.” She surveyed him up and down. “I could wait years for a man who looks like you to walk into this place.”
He took her hand in his and ran his finger across the center of her palm. “You deserve more than the likes of me. Go home, Tina.” He pressed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “And thank you for the offer. It’s a hard one to pass up.”
She sighed. “Enjoy your night then.”
He watched her walk away, then shifted his gaze as he felt someone watching him. The pixie of a waitress stood next to a table, her mouth literally hanging open as she gaped at him as if he was the big, bad wolf. A rush of heat curled up his spine. Maybe he should have taken Tina up on her offer. He was clearly in need of releasing some kind of pent-up energy.
He straightened from the table where he sat and lifted his glass in mock salute, adding a slow wink for good measure.
The mouse snapped her rosebud lips together and spun around, sending another glass flying from the tray she balanced precariously in one hand.
Scott shook his head as the crash reverberated through the bar. That was her fifth for the night. A clumsy new waitress wouldn’t last long.
He moved to a seat at the bar and ordered another round.
To his surprise, the bartender shook his head. “You’ve had enough, buddy.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’m cutting you off.”
Scott knew for a fact—almost a fact—that he never appeared drunk even when he was. It had been his downfall too many times to count. People assumed the idiot things he did weren’t in direct relation to the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “What the hell? I’m not making a scene. It’s still early.”
“It’s 1:00 a.m.”
“That means I’ve got an hour left.”
“Not in my bar you don’t. I own this place and I’m saying you’re done here.”
“What’s the problem, man?”
The bar’s owner was in his late forties, a tall, balding man with a lean face. Scott wasn’t acting out of the ordinary, so couldn’t figure out what was the problem.
“The problem,” the bartender said as he leaned closer, “is that I saw you kissing my girlfriend’s hand a few minutes ago. Now get the hell out of my bar.”
Scott thought about the lovely Tina and cringed. “I had no idea she was your girlfriend. She invited me over for a drink and—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence as the bartender grabbed at the scruff of his collar. Without thinking, Scott slammed the man’s hand to the wooden counter, stopping just short of breaking it.
The bartender yelped in pain, then yanked his hand away.
“I told you,” Scott repeated quietly, “I didn’t know.”
“Luke, is everything okay here?”
Scott turned and saw the tiny waitress standing at his side. She was even smaller up close, her big eyes blinking at him from behind round glasses. As far as he could tell, she didn’t wear a speck of makeup, her pale skin clear without it other than a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her red hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail at the nape of her neck. She bounced on her toes, looking warily from Scott to Luke.
“Everything’s fine, Lexi,” the bartender said coolly. “This customer has had enough. He’s leaving.”
“So Lexi’s the bouncer?” Scott smiled at the mouse. “Are you going to throw me out?”
“You don’t seem drunk,” Lexi observed.
He knew the bartender was right even if he’d never own up to it. Scott wasn’t much of a gambler, but he’d perfected a poker face. Nothing good ever came from admitting he’d had too much to drink. Especially at a bar. “I’m not,” he answered, even though he knew it was a lie. “But I’d like to be.” He settled into his chair and gave her a broad smile.
A streak of pink crept up from the neckline of her Riley’s Bar T-shirt, coloring her neck and cheeks. A muscle in Scott’s abdomen tightened. He imagined her entire petite frame covered in those sweet freckles and flushed pink with desire. For him.
Whoa. Where had that come from? He blinked several times to clear his head.
“Do you have something in your eye?” the mouse asked. “I have eyedrops in my purse if you need them.”
So much for his charm with women. He was rusty these days. “No,” he answered.
“He don’t need anything,” Luke interrupted. “He’s on his way out.”
“No wonder your bar is so run-down.” Scott bit out a laugh. “If this is how you treat your customers...”
He saw Luke’s eyes narrow a fraction. “My customers don’t bad-mouth my bar. This establishment happens to be a local favorite.”
Scott made a show of looking around at the nearly empty stools and tables. “I can see how popular you are. Yes, indeed.” He glanced at the waitress, who gave a small shake of her head before dropping her gaze to the ground.
Somehow the disappointment he read in her eyes ground its way under his skin, making his irritation at being kicked out swell to full-fledged anger. He didn’t know why it mattered, but suddenly Scott was determined not to let the bartender win this argument. Nobody in this one-horse town was going to get the best of him.
“I’m not leaving until I get another drink.” He crossed his arms over his chest and dared the other man to deny him.
“Maybe you should just give him one more,” Lexi suggested softly.
“No way.” Luke reached for the phone hanging next to the liquor bottles. “This loser is finished, one way or another.” He pointed the receiver in Scott’s direction. “I’ll give the police a call. Tell them I’ve got a live one making a disturbance down here, and let them haul you away.”
The last thing Scott needed was his brother finding him in a town bar tonight unannounced, let alone making trouble. Scott wanted to talk to Sam, but on his terms and in his own time frame.
Sam had moved to North Carolina several years ago and was definitely protective of his new hometown. Scott told himself he’d stopped caring about his brother’s opinion years ago, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go toe-to-toe with him tonight. He knew it would be easier to cut his losses and walk out now, but he couldn’t do it. Not with Lexi and Luke staring at him. Backing down wasn’t Scott’s style, even when it was in his best interest.
His gaze flicked to the front door, then back to the bartender. “I noticed a for-sale sign in the window,” he said casually.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “You in the market for a bar?”
“Someone could do a lot with this space. Make it more than some two-bit townie hangout.”
“Is that so?” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you make me an offer, city boy?”
“Why don’t you get me a drink and maybe I will.”
A slow smile curved the corner of the bar owner’s lips. He turned and grabbed a bottle off the shelf.
Lexi tugged on Scott’s sleeve. “It’s none of my business, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to discuss a possible business transaction now. You might want to wait until the morning.”
“I think this is the perfect time,” Scott said and leaned closer to her, picking up the faint scent of vanilla. How appropriate for a woman who looked so innocent. “And you’re right, it’s none of your business.”
The bartender placed a drink in front of Scott and clinked his own glass against it.
“Be that as it may,” Lexi said, tugging again, “in order for a deal to hold up, there is the matter of due consideration. That won’t apply if one or the other party is proved to be under the influence of drugs or alcohol.”
Scott shrugged out of her grasp. “Honey, are you a waitress or a lawyer? Because you handle those big words a lot better than you do a tray of glasses.”
“That’s right.” Luke’s eyes lit up. “Julia said you were an attorney when she got me to hire you. Said you worked your way through law school waiting tables.”
“She did?” Lexi had worked her way through law school clerking at her father’s firm. She hadn’t waited on anything other than an airplane before tonight. Still, she nodded. “I did. I am. An attorney, that is. I’m currently taking a break.”
Scott eyed her. “As a cocktail waitress?”
Her lips thinned, which was a shame because he’d noticed they were full and bow-shaped. “For now.”
Scott couldn’t resist leaning closer again. “You might be the walking definition of the term ‘don’t quit your day job.’”
“You’re a jerk,” she whispered.
“Yes, I am.”
Luke clapped his hands together. “This is perfect.” He took a step back and flipped on and off the light switch next to the bar. “We’re closing early, y’all,” he shouted to the lone couple in a booth toward the back. “Clear out now.”
Ignoring the groans of protest, he pointed to Lexi. “You can write up an offer for the pretty boy. Better yet, there’s an old typewriter on my desk in the back. Grab it and you can make the contract.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think—”
“I’m not asking you to think,” Luke barked. “You’ve broken a half-dozen glasses tonight. If you want to keep this job, get the damn typewriter.”
She threw a pointed glance at Scott. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Looking into her bright eyes, the only thing he could think of was that he wanted to kiss her senseless. But he sure as hell had a longer list of things he didn’t want.
He didn’t want the botched arrest at the U.S. Marshals Service that had taken his partner’s life and put Scott on forced administrative leave. He didn’t want the resignation letter burning a hole in his back pocket. He didn’t want to go back to his empty condo in D.C. and stare at the yellow walls for days on end. He didn’t want to feel so helpless and alone.
“Don’t tell me you’re all talk?” Luke slapped a wet towel onto the bar as he spoke. “I should have guessed you’d be willing to spout out big words but not follow up with any action. If you aren’t serious, get the hell out of my bar. I’ve got better things to do than waste my time with this.”
Scott spoke to the bar owner without taking his eyes from Lexi. “I’m all about action.” He picked up his glass and drained it again. “Lexi, would you please get Luke’s typewriter? We need to talk dollars for a few minutes. See how badly your good old boy really wants to sell.”
Chapter Two
Scott felt someone poking at him, but couldn’t force his eyes to open. “Go away,” he mumbled.
A shower of ice-cold water hit his face. He sat up, sputtering and rubbing his hands across his eyes. Water dripped from his hair and chin.
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”
“I’m going to kill you,” he said with a hiss of angry air, then looked around. He was on a worn leather couch in a small office, the shelves surrounding him dusty and lined with kitchen equipment. “Where am I?”
Sam handed him a towel. “You passed out. Luke Trujillo called me at three in the morning, laughing his butt off. He said he offered you a ride, but you insisted you wanted to spend the night in your bar. When did you get back into town?”
“Last night.”
“You didn’t call. Does Dad know you’re here?”
“Not yet.” Scott covered his eyes with the towel, under the guise of drying off his hair. “I didn’t call because our last family get-together didn’t exactly end on good terms.”
Memories of the previous evening came back to him in full force. When he was certain he had his features schooled to a blank mask, he lowered the towel. “But I’m a big boy, Sam. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Are you kidding?” His brother paced back and forth across the worn rug between the couch and an oversize oak desk on the far wall. “You didn’t know where you were a minute ago.”
“I was disoriented. It happens.”
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“It was a misunderstanding. The guy was being a jerk about serving me, so I gave him a song and dance about wanting to buy this place.”
Sam grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and shoved it toward Scott. “This isn’t a song and dance. It’s a contract for purchase and sale. You gave him a down-payment check for fifty grand. Luke has wanted to sell for over a year now. To hear him tell it, the place is a money pit. He’s got family in Florida. Hell, he’s probably already packing his bags.”
As Scott read the words on the paper, his head pounded even harder. The contract had his signature on the bottom, along with Luke Trujillo’s and one other. In neat, compact writing was the name Lexi Preston scrawled above the word Witness on the last line.
The pixie waitress-attorney from last night. Clear green eyes and the shimmer of red hair stole across his mind. Wanting to impress her. Wanting to keep drinking. His two main objectives from late last night. Now, in the harsh light of morning, he realized how stupid and impulsive he’d been.
Again.
Most of the trouble—and there was a lot of it—Scott had in life was a result of being impulsive. He led with his emotions, anger being the top of that list. Normally, he wouldn’t let himself slow down enough to care about the consequences. But the botched arrest two months ago, a direct result of his poor judgment, had put him on the sidelines of his own life. It drove him crazy, although he wouldn’t have that discussion with Sam.
“I know you’re still getting a paycheck and Dad says you’ve done well on investments, but it’s a lot of cash, Scott. What are you going to do when you go back to the Marshal Service? I don’t want to see you throw your money away like this.”
Sam was the by-the-book brother, the one who’d always done the right thing. The responsible Callahan. At least, that was how it had been after their mother died. But a lot of years had passed since then. Scott was a grown-up now and he wasn’t about to admit that he’d messed up yet again.
“I bought a bar. So what?” He threw the towel onto the floor by the couch and combed his hands through his hair. “I can afford it.”
“That’s not the point,” his brother argued.
“Sam, I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, but you’re going to have to trust me on this.” He walked past his brother and down the short hall to the bar’s main room. He couldn’t let Sam see how in over his head he felt. He’d done a lot of stupid things in his life, but last night might take the cake. What had felt warm and inviting then now just looked in need of a good scrubbing. The wood floors were scratched and dull and the tables mismatched, several sporting a layer of grime years thick. The place definitely had more charm in the half dark.
“I don’t have much of a reason to trust you, and I definitely don’t trust Lexi Preston.”
Scott spun around, then winced as the abrupt movement made his head hurt more. “What about Lexi?” he asked, not willing to address the issue of trust between him and Sam this early in the morning.
“She represented the family who tried to take away Charlie from Julia.”
“I don’t understand.” Scott had immediately fallen for Julia’s toddler son. He didn’t know Julia well, but it was clear she was a natural mother. “I thought the ex-boyfriend’s family was from Ohio. What’s the attorney doing in Brevia? Julia got full custody.”
Julia had been embroiled in the custody case when she and Sam were first together. Being with Julia had stopped Sam from taking a job Scott had helped arrange for him with the U.S. Marshals. It had been Scott’s big attempt to repair his relationship with his brother, and it had felt like one more rejection when Sam had chosen Julia instead. Scott hadn’t quite forgiven her for that, but it hadn’t prevented him from forming a quick affection for the boy.
Sam shook his head, frustration evident in the tense line of his shoulders. “I don’t understand, either. She got to town yesterday with some sob story about how she needs a fresh start. Julia may talk tough but she’s a total softy at heart. She helped Lexi get the job and is renting the woman her old apartment.”
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Scott asked, his mind suddenly on sharp alert. Julia was family now. He protected family, even if his methods were sometimes unorthodox.
Sam shook his head. “I want that woman to stay away from all of us. I don’t like the fact that she was involved in this mess with you.”
Scott bristled at Sam’s condescending tone. “I told you, I can take care of myself. I don’t know if she has ulterior motives coming to town, but Lexi Preston didn’t influence my decision to buy this bar.”
“She let you enter into a contract when you were drunk.”
“Who said I was drunk last night? Maybe I bought this place as an investment. It’s an historic building and—”
“You’re not fooling me. I know the Marshals incident messed with your head. I know you’ve been drinking more than normal and your normal is pretty damn much.” Sam took a step closer. “I think you need help.”
Blood roared through Scott’s head. He hadn’t been back in Brevia twenty-four hours and Sam was already starting another referendum on how messed up he was. He couldn’t afford to debate whether it was true. Not yet.
“Get out.” He spoke the words slowly, without any of the emotion swirling through his gut.
“Scott, listen—”
“No, Sam, you listen.” Scott began straightening chairs around the various tables, needing something—anything—to do with his hands. Needing to take some action. “The incident didn’t mess with my head. It killed a good man. Maybe I use alcohol to dull the memories of that more than I should. But I’m not out of control. I walked away when it was clear that part of the internal investigation meant me smearing my dead partner’s reputation. I don’t know right now if I’ll go back. So I bought this place. It’s an investment. Not one that you would make, but it’s my money and my life. Back off. Go home to Julia and Charlie. I don’t need you here.”
The sound of the chairs scraping against the wood floor gave welcome relief to the silence that stretched between the brothers. Finally, Scott stopped and looked over. “I mean it. I’m fine.”
Sam gave a curt nod. “I’m here, Scott. When you do need me, I’m here.” He turned and walked out of the bar into the bright morning.
As the door swung shut behind him, Scott turned a chair around and sank into it, massaging his forehead with two fingers.
What the hell was he going to do now?
* * *
Lexi tried to ignore the pounding on the apartment door. As she stared, arms folded tightly across her chest, the noise grew. Had her father had a change of heart already, prepared to forgive her supposed lapse in judgment if she came home and continued to do his bidding? It was late morning and she’d already unpacked her few belongings and made a run to the local grocery for essential supplies. As silly as it seemed, she’d just gotten a taste of freedom and didn’t want to give it up so soon.
She also didn’t want her neighbors to worry or, worse, call Julia or Sam. Taking a fortifying gulp of air, she turned the knob and opened the door.
Oh.
Oh, dear.
Scott Callahan loomed in the doorway, irritation and a healthy five-o’clock shadow etched on his handsome face. He was still wearing the same casual sweater and wrinkled jeans from the night before. She looked for the resemblance to Julia’s husband, Sam, figuring it was too much of a coincidence to have two Callahans in the same small town.
She’d been shocked when he’d told her his name as she was putting together the contract for sale last night. Although Scott’s hair was dark, the two men shared the same brilliant blue eyes, strong jaw and towering height that made them both intimidating and undeniably male.
She took an involuntary step back, hating the blush creeping up her cheeks. Why did this man rattle her so much?
That was easy enough to answer. Just the sight of him made her long-dormant imagination kick into high gear. His hair just grazed his collar, his blue eyes made brighter by the contrast to long lashes that any woman would envy. He was beautiful, the kind of handsome that would attract female attention wherever he went.
Men who looked like Scott Callahan didn’t notice Lexi, and last night he’d certainly noticed her. At least it had felt that way. He’d leaned in and his eyes had caught on her mouth as if he wanted to kiss her. She’d imagined what that kiss would feel like as she lay in her bed in the wee morning hours, watching dawn through the curtains in her bedroom. She could almost taste his lips on hers even now.
Now.
She blinked and cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted one long arm to rest on the door frame, muscles bunching under his sweater. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. He seemed a lot less irritated than he had a few moments earlier. “What’s your story, Lexi Preston? You look shy and talk like an academic, but you’ve got a wild side. I can tell.”
She hugged her arms more tightly around herself. “You can tell no such thing.”
“I can tell you want me to kiss you.”
She sputtered, “I do not.”
“Liar.” He took a lazy step toward her. “But that’s not going to happen. Yet.”
Lexi was shocked by the ripple of disappointment that rolled through her. “What do you want?” she repeated. “I’m guessing this isn’t an official employee meeting.”
He pulled a sheet of paper out of his back pocket. “I want to know why you let me sign this damn contract.”
“You told me to write it up. I didn’t let you do anything. In fact, I advised you not to sign it.”
“I was drunk.”
She cocked her head to one side and studied him. The rumpled clothes, the hint of bruising under his eyes. “You said you weren’t.”
“I hide it well.”
No wonder he’d been flirting with her. It was the alcohol, not attraction. Of course. A guy as hot as Scott would definitely need beer goggles to flirt with her. “I warned you about due consideration. You assured me you were in full control of your faculties and able to make a rational decision.”
“I want out.” He came all the way into the apartment, filling it with his large, muscular body and...sheesh, she had a one-track mind.
“The bank has to draw up the final contract. Maybe you won’t be approved for the loan.”
“I can guarantee I’ll be approved, so I want out now.”
A whistle sounded from behind her. “It’s not that easy.” She turned on her heel and padded to the kitchen, pulling two cups from the cabinet. She dropped a tea bag in each and poured the hot water. Turning back, she handed one to Scott. He eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Green tea. It helps me think.” She took a small sip. “Explain to Luke Trujillo that you were inebriated last night. The contract won’t hold up if you signed it under the influence. I’m sure Tina will vouch for how many drinks you had over a normal limit.”
“That’s the problem. No one can know I was drunk.”
“Why not?”
He brought the mug to his mouth, sniffed and made a face. “You’re kidding with this, right? Where’s the coffee?”
“I don’t drink coffee. Green tea is full of antioxidants.”
“You’re an attorney and a health nut? That’s some combination.”
“My father says... Never mind.” She took another drink. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just tea.” She studied him intently. “Why do you want to hide that you were drunk?”
“I’m not a baby,” he said and took a huge gulp of tea. “That’s disgusting.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
“You’re such a lawyer.” He shook his head and reached around her to place the mug on the counter. “My brother’s already given me grief about last night. I don’t need him on my back for anything else.”
“Are the two of you close?”
“Not a bit.”
She raised the cup to her lips again, then lowered it as her mind raced. “If you’re not close, why do you—”
“It’s complicated.”
Lexi could just imagine. She’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, but Scott Callahan was already the most intriguing man she’d ever met. At first glance he was all alpha-male bravado, but she sensed something more. His eyes had a haunted look that wasn’t related to a hangover, but might have everything to do with a bone-deep loneliness. The kind of lonely people felt if they thought no one in the world truly loved them. As if they had no home.
The kind of lonely Lexi often saw reflected in her own eyes.
She had nothing in common with this man, but she wanted to reach out to him. She yearned to understand what made someone who appeared so sure of himself at the same time give off waves of uncertainty.
She wanted to really know him.
As if he could read her intention, his eyes turned cold. “Never mind. I’ll figure something out.” His voice cut through her thoughts. “Luke gave me a fair price and I’ve got the time and money to deal with it. Maybe I’ll redo the whole thing and sell it for a hefty profit.” His words were sure but his tone still held a hint of uncertainty.
“If you didn’t want to own a bar, why did you buy it?”
“I don’t know.” He ran his hand through his almost-black hair. “I’m known for being impulsive. It’s my trademark.”
There must be more to the story, but as much as she wanted to know, it wasn’t any of her business. Yet. “I never do anything impulsive.”
“That’s not how I heard it.” He glanced over her shoulder at the tray of half-full glasses sitting on the kitchen table. “Here you are, a fancy-pants corporate attorney, renting my sister-in-law’s apartment, practicing to be a bar waitress in this sleepy Southern town. Are you telling me this is some sort of master plan?”
She almost smiled. “I guess you’re right. I’ve been pretty impulsive in the last couple of days.”
He shook his head. “That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I’m going to take it as one, anyway.” She placed her mug on the counter. When she turned back, Scott had stepped closer. Too close. Close enough that she could smell toothpaste on his breath and the musky scent of last night’s cologne on his shirt.
“If you want to get impulsive, I can help.” He reached his hand up and trailed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. “I’m an expert at impulsive.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” she whispered, hating that he broke straight through to her earlier longing.
“I can’t figure out what kind of girl you are.” His mouth turned up at the corner. “But I know you’re the worst waitress I’ve ever seen.” He straightened, dropping his hand. “I’m the boss now. So you’d better practice all day with those glasses. Because you helped get me into this mess and I’m not going to let you cost me more money every night. Luke may have owed Julia a favor, but I don’t owe anyone anything.”
Lexi sucked in a breath. “Are you threatening to fire me?”
“It’s no threat,” Scott told her. “I’m sure you’ve got a corner office waiting for you somewhere. I don’t care why you’re slumming it in a bar. But it’s mine now. I don’t play favorites. Show up a half hour early for your shift tonight. We’re having an employee meeting.”
He turned and headed for her door.
“This is because you’re mad that I wrote the contract. You want to blame me. It’s not fair.”
He held up one hand and ticked off several points. “I’m mad that I signed the contract. I blame myself for that, but I don’t appreciate you being a part of that moment. And if you haven’t realized it before, life isn’t ever fair. Deal with it.”
Without looking back, he strode from her apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.
Chapter Three
By five o’clock that night, Scott’s headache was way beyond a hangover. He’d driven down to Charlotte to pick up some updated electronics the bar needed right away, along with a few extra clothes until he had time to get to his condo in D.C. for his stuff. He’d noticed a bathroom and shower off the office in back, where he’d bunk until he could figure out what to do with his new investment.
Damn. His plan hadn’t included staying in Brevia for more than a few days, and definitely not in this run-down bar. He didn’t know why he’d come in the first place, other than wandering around D.C. and watching ESPN in his place had been driving him crazy.
He and Sam hadn’t been close in years, and he knew his brother still didn’t trust him after Scott’s part in breaking up Sam’s first engagement. He pressed two fingers to the side of his head as the pain of regret mingled with the dull pounding inside his brain.
He’d thought they were going to put the past behind them when Sam was planning to take the job with the Marshals, but the relationship with Julia had ended that. Scott had been mad as hell. He’d stuck his neck out to get Sam the job. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he’d craved a second chance at a relationship with his brother.
He knew Sam didn’t want him here. Maybe that had been part of the motivation for making this stupid deal. He’d always had a talent for getting under his brother’s skin.
Hefting another box of beer bottles into the large refrigerator in the back room of the bar, he spun on his heel as someone cleared his throat behind him.
Scott slammed the refrigerator door and faced a craggy-looking man whose thin blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He looked to be in his mid-forties and wore faded jeans and an army-green canvas jacket over a white T-shirt.
“You ain’t Luke,” the man told him.
“Great observation.” Scott eyed the stranger, clearly ex-military by the way he held himself. “I’m Scott Callahan, the new owner of this place.”
“New owner?” The man’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t hear nothing about a new owner.”
“It’s a recent development.” He’d also met earlier with Luke, who’d been thrilled to hand over his keys. He’d offered to stick around for a few weeks to help, but Scott had declined. From what he’d seen this morning going through the bar’s accounts and ledgers, Luke hadn’t known much about running a business. Scott had certainly spent enough time in bars. He figured he could pick up most of what he needed to know from the staff. As long as he kept the beer cold and the liquor flowing, how hard could it be?
“You can’t be any worse than Luke. That guy could barely tap a keg when he got here.”
“I’ve tapped plenty of kegs in my day,” Scott assured him. “I didn’t catch your name.”
The two of them stared at each other for several moments. Finally, the man said, “I’m Jon Riley.”
“As in Riley’s Bar?” Scott tried not to look surprised.
Joe nodded. “My dad opened this place almost twenty years ago. Luke took over when Dad passed a few years back.”
“I’m sorry. You work here?”
“Unfortunately.” When Scott didn’t reply, Jon continued, “I’ve worked in restaurants most of my life. Trained as a chef up in New York. But I got hurt over in Iraq and, well...ended up back here.”
Scott had noticed the full kitchen, although from the looks of it, nothing had been cooked there for years. “Riley’s doesn’t serve food.”
“Used to when my dad had it.” Jon shrugged. “Now I wash glasses, clean up, handyman stuff. Whatever needs doing. You gonna change things around?”
“I’ve owned the place for less than twenty-four hours. My head is still swimming.” And pounding.
“That didn’t answer the question.”
“You’ve still got a job if you want one.”
“I do.” Jon stuck out his bony hand and Scott shook it. “Nice to meet you, boss.”
“You, too, Jon.”
“I got one more question for you.” Jon nodded toward the unused kitchen space. “My apartment’s only an efficiency. I can’t cook anything worth eating. I clock in here at six-thirty most nights. Would you mind if I brought in some supplies and made myself dinner before I started? I’ll keep it clean.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?”
“Nope.” His gaze dropped to the ground. “Luke didn’t want to deal with it or have customers smelling my meals, but—”
“I don’t care what you do in the kitchen. I’m not using it. We’re having a staff meeting in a few minutes. Be great if you could be there.”
“Thanks.” Jon shrugged out of his coat. “I’m going to get started moving last night’s empties.”
Scott nodded, feeling overwhelmed by the task in front of him. He liked the fact that he was moving, at least. It gave him less time to think about what he couldn’t do. Like his real job.
He heard voices at the front of the building. He glanced out to see four women, including Lexi, come through the entrance. He’d contacted the five waitresses and two male bartenders from the employee records he’d found in the desk. One of the women had just had a baby, which explained Lexi’s hire. Both of the guys had come in right after lunch to go over things. Scott had asked the waitresses to meet just before they opened tonight. He had no idea what he was going to say to them. Should he give a football-huddle pep talk or beg for help? He’d never been an employer. Never had to worry about anyone on the job but himself. That was about to change. He had his first employee meeting to run.
“Hello, ladies,” he called with more confidence than he felt. “How is everyone doing tonight?”
All four women stopped and stared at him. He recognized Tina from last night, her gaze still an open invitation. Lexi looked wary, making eye contact with everything except him. The other two women he didn’t recognize. He’d left messages for both of them earlier, so he didn’t know what they thought of the change in ownership.
He stepped forward. “I’m Scott Callahan, the new owner of Riley’s Bar.”
“I’m Misty,” the first woman told him. She was older for a bar waitress—early fifties if he had to guess. Her jet-black hair curled on top and was held back by a shiny clip. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. It was hard to imagine her hefting a tray of glasses. But that remained to be seen.
“I appreciate all of you coming in.”
Tina gave him a slow smile. “I didn’t know you were going to buy the place.”
Scott returned her smile. “I didn’t know Luke was your boyfriend when you invited me for a drink.”
She shrugged. “We’re on a break.”
“I’m single.” The fourth waitress piped up. “My name’s Erin.” The young woman sidled up to him. “I’ve been here awhile, so I can help you with anything you need.” She wrapped her long fingers around his wrist. “Anything.”
He heard Lexi snort as he unhooked his wrist and stepped away from Erin. He felt like more of a fraud as he tried to think of what they’d want a new boss to say. “I’m going to do my best to make Riley’s Bar the spot for nightlife. I think there are a lot of opportunities for improvement.”
“You can say that again,” Misty agreed.
“First and foremost, we need to take care of our customers—both current and potential. I’m going to be making some changes that will help with that.”
“What kind of changes?”
“Making this place look a little better for one thing. Nightly specials, more events to get locals and visitors in the door. It’s your job to keep them happy once they’re here. I want good customer service. Be attentive but not overbearing.”
“Do we let them hit on us?” All the women but Lexi giggled. She looked horrified.
“Only if you want them to.” He smiled. “But I’d prefer you kept your time here professional.”
The three experienced waitresses nodded, while Lexi continued to look straight ahead. She seemed as nervous as a deer at a shooting range.
“What about tips?” Tina asked. “Luke used to take part of what we got because he made the drinks.”
“He skimmed your tips?” Scott didn’t know why this surprised him. He’d checked the liquor on the shelves earlier and found several bottles watered down. Apparently, Luke hadn’t been cutting corners only on the alcohol.
“He said it was his fair share,” Misty offered.
“What’s fair is that you keep the money you make.” Scott stepped behind the counter. “Most nights I’m going to be handling the bar. Max and Jasper, the other bartenders, will fill in as needed.”
“You know how to mix a decent Tom Collins?” Misty asked.
Scott nodded. “I can mix almost anything.” He had spent time as a bartender when he’d been younger and had picked up a thing or two from his favorite haunts in D.C.
They watched him as if they expected more. He’d called them in here, but now had no pearls of wisdom to dispense. Basically, he’d wanted to see what he was working with. Other than Lexi, they all looked competent and at home in the bar.
He pulled shot glasses down from a shelf and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He needed something to take the edge off. Just one. He turned to the man standing in the doorway. “We’re going to have a round to welcome the new owner. Join us?”
Jon Riley shook his head. “No, boss. I’m five years sober.”
Scott’s hand paused in pouring. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine,” Jon said quietly and disappeared through the door.
“I don’t want one, either,” Lexi told him when he pushed four of the small glasses forward.
“You on the wagon, too?” Tina asked.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to drink while working.”
Scott felt a hot burst of irritation skim along his spine. He didn’t need to be judged by his little mouse of a waitress. “It’s a special occasion,” he told her. “Maybe if you relax, you won’t have so much trouble keeping the glasses on the tray instead of the floor.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.” With a huff, she followed Jon.
“Anyone else got a problem?”
In response, the remaining waitresses each picked up a shot glass. They toasted and downed the whiskey. It burned his throat, but after a moment the familiar warmth uncurled in his stomach.
“Thanks, boss,” Misty told him and headed toward the back behind Lexi.
The other two women left the glasses on the bar and after a bit of small talk, meandered out the front door. Lexi and Misty were the two working tonight.
When he was alone again, Scott cleaned up the glasses and wiped down the top of the bar. He stared for a moment at the whiskey Lexi hadn’t drunk. It seemed a shame to waste perfectly good alcohol, so he quickly downed it before putting the glass in the stack to be washed.
He turned to see Lexi watching him from the side of the bar. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” she asked quietly.
“Sweetheart, none of this is a good idea.” He returned the bottle of Jack to the shelf. “Luckily, I’m not much one for caring. If it feels right, I go for it.”
“And drinking on the job feels right to you?” She took a step closer. “It seems to me that’s what got you this bar in the first place.” She pulled the apron in her hands over her head and reached behind her back to tie it, causing her breasts to push against the soft material of her light pink T-shirt.
Scott sucked in a breath. Hell, the T-shirt wasn’t even formfitting and its conservative crew-neck collar practically covered half her throat. Misty was wearing a low-cut, skintight number that barely held in her ample chest. But it hadn’t had any effect on him. Unlike Lexi’s buttoned-up outfit.
He walked around the edge of the bar and took her arm, spinning her away from him.
“What are you doing?” she said with a gasp.
“Helping you,” he answered and tied her apron strings together. “It seems to me the reason I’m in this mess is because of you and your contract.”
“You wanted to buy the bar,” she argued.
“I wanted to pick a fight with Luke,” he countered, resting his hands on her hips, unable to resist circling his thumbs against the place where her shirt hem met the fabric of her black dress slacks. Attorney clothes, clearly made of expensive material. Not the sort of pants someone wore to serve drinks.
Which reminded him that Lexi wasn’t the sort of woman who should be waitressing in a bar. “If it wasn’t for your ever-helpful legal skills, we would have exchanged some big talk and called it a night. Now I’ve got a business I don’t want in a town I don’t want to live in.”
She went perfectly still, whether because of his words or his touch, Scott didn’t know. But her voice was breathless when she spoke. “Maybe you should have stopped to think before you agreed to anything. Maybe if your ego wasn’t so big you would have left when he told you to go.”
Ouch. Scott didn’t want to admit how close to home that hit. The phrase if you’d stopped to think could have saved him so many different times in his life.
“I never do,” he said quietly. “Stop. Or think.”
Because then he might remember how lonely he always felt, how afraid he was of needing someone and being left alone, the way both his parents had done when he was a kid.
“You should try it sometime,” she said, her voice just a whisper.
“What’s done is done.” He pulled her closer to him and whispered against her ear, “It’s easier to do what people expected of me—which isn’t much.”
* * *
Lexi felt her heart squeeze tight. It was so quiet in the bar at the moment. She was surrounded by Scott, the warmth of his chest against her back and his spicy, soapy scent mingling with the tangy smell of liquor on his breath.
That was what did it, brought her back to her right mind. The alcohol was the only explanation for why he seemed to want to touch her as much as she wanted to be touched by him.
She drove her elbow back, surprised at how quickly he moved to block the shot. “You’re messing with me—”
She stopped when the front door opened and half a dozen men walked through. One called out, “There’s an under-new-management sign in the window. What’s that about?”
Another gave a long whistle. “Hey, there’s a flat screen now. Is that new?”
“I’ll be watching you tonight,” Scott whispered to her. “Just remember that.”
Her mouth went dry as he turned away.
“Put it up today, boys,” he answered. “Got cable set up, too. Have a seat and we’ll find a game to watch.”
A round of cheers went up and the men came over to shake Scott’s hand. They moved toward a table, but he pointed to the other side of the room. “You’re going to have a better view over there, fellows.”
He’d moved them from her section to Misty’s, but only smiled as Lexi glared at him.
She spilled one glass the entire night, a huge improvement from her first shift. She didn’t have the natural gift of gab that Misty did, flirting and making small talk with the customers. But Lexi did her best to keep up, making sure she got every order right and moving as quickly as her legs could carry her.
She was getting used to the noise and the smell of the bar, the customers who got more boisterous as the night wore on. Lexi didn’t have a lot of experience with boisterous. Her father’s idea of out of control was playing opera music instead of something mellower during dinner. Even in college, Lexi had stayed away from bars, worried there was something in her, some sort of predisposition for addiction, like her biological mother had had.
Her dad had told her in great detail about how she would have to overcome the deficiencies in her gene pool throughout her life. He’d made her believe that if she got too close to the wild life that had killed her mother, she might end up down that same dark path. She had only a few snippets of memory of her birth mom. The scent of her musky perfume and being left alone in their small apartment for long periods of time. But she was curious about “the other side of life,” as her dad called it.
Being in Riley’s Bar, serving customers, was a revelation to Lexi. She didn’t really have a desire to drink, but the energy from the people around her made her feel more alive than she ever had.
Scott took a shot with another customer. She didn’t know how much he’d had tonight and it wasn’t any of her business. He didn’t seem wasted, although he hadn’t last night, either. She still knew he was trouble. He tempted her to be different than the person she’d worked so hard to become. The way he made her feel could be dangerous to her very soul. She wanted an adventure, but how far was she willing to go to get a real one?
The bar emptied soon after the football game was over, which she figured was normal. She took off her apron and hung it in the back hall, counting the money from the front pocket. She’d made twenty dollars in tips. Not a lot, but the cash meant more to her than any paycheck she’d ever received from her father’s firm.
“You did better tonight.”
She turned to see Jon Riley in the doorway that led to the unused kitchen. “I practiced carrying drinks around all day,” she said with a grin.
“It worked.” He returned her smile. “You’re not a natural but you’ll get there.”
“My mom was a waitress her whole life,” Lexi said, then wondered why she’d shared that.
“There’s worse ways to make a living.”
She thought about her father and the underhanded legal deals he’d gotten into the habit of arranging to keep his firm on top. Maybe that was a type of addiction in its own right. She’d never made a connection between her adoptive father and her biological mother, and the thought made her skin crawl the tiniest bit.
“She was an alcoholic,” Lexi blurted. “Lost custody of me when I was six. Working in bars killed her.”
Jon shook his head. “The booze killed her. You’re not like that.”
“How do you know?” Lexi asked, suddenly needing reassurance from this virtual stranger.
“I’ve been down that road,” he said simply. “I can recognize a person battling demons. Sometimes it’s easier to drown yourself than work on what’s really wrong.”
She heard Misty’s laughter ring out from the front of the bar, followed by the deep tone of Scott’s voice.
Jon jerked his head toward the sound. “That boy has a war waging inside him. He’s got a good heart but he’s going to have to do some digging to find it again.”
“Can someone like him be helped?”
The man shrugged. “Maybe. But they’ve got to want it. And you’ve got to risk that if they don’t, you’re gonna be real hurt trying for ’em.”
She thought again about her mother, wondered what her demons had been and if anyone had tried to help her.
The door to the front of the bar swung open and Misty’s head popped through. “Scott poured an extra glass of wine. Want to join me for a drink?”
Lexi turned her head. “I think...” She paused and glanced back over her shoulder. Jon had disappeared into the kitchen again. “I’m going to head home now.”
Misty shrugged. “Your call. Nice work tonight. Scott thinks you’re too slow but I could see you busting your hump the whole time.”
Lexi felt color rise to her cheeks. Scott thought she was too slow. She’d been worrying about how to help him, and he’d been talking trash about her. She swallowed against the embarrassment rising in her throat. “Have a good night, Misty,” she said. Grabbing her purse from the hook, she headed for the back door.
She wrapped her arms around herself against the cool night air. Fall temperatures were dipping, even here in the South. She hurried to her car, and once back in her apartment, slipped off her shoes. Her feet ached, her shoulders were sore. Most of her body hurt from using muscles she’d never dealt with before. She wore heels as an attorney but never spent hours standing.
Even though it was late, she ran a bath and slipped into the warm water, letting it soak away some of her aches and pains. She liked to be clean. That was one thing she did remember from the time before Robert Preston had adopted her. She’d spent a lot of time dirty.
The bathtub in Julia’s apartment might not be large or fancy like the deep soaker she’d left behind, but it did the trick. By the time she put on her soft cotton pajamas, she felt relaxed again.
She’d padded to the kitchen for a glass of water before bed when she heard the soft knock on the door. This time she didn’t worry that it might be her father. From the way her stomach dipped, she knew who was waiting on the other side.
Chapter Four
“It’s late, Scott.” She hated that her voice sounded breathless. “What do you want?”
“I need a place to sleep.”
His tone held none of its usual teasing or cocky certainty. But she kept the door open only a crack, not yet willing to let him in. “I thought you were staying at the bar.”
“Too damn quiet after everyone leaves. Too empty. And it smells like a bar.”
She smiled a little. “You smell like a bar.”
“I could use a shower.” He lifted a black duffel bag into view. “I brought a change of clothes.”
She shook her head. “You should stay with Sam and Julia.”
“They’re a family. I don’t belong there.”
“You don’t belong here.”
He shrugged. “I don’t belong anywhere.” Lexi knew it was the first wholly honest thing he’d said since they’d met. The smallest bit of vulnerability flashed in his eyes and she was a goner.
Jon Riley’s words about being hurt echoed in her head, but she pushed them away as she reached out and took Scott’s hand. Pulling him to her, she brushed a wayward lock of hair away from his forehead. Her finger traced the side of his face, much the same way he’d done the last time he touched her. Did it have the same effect? His heated gaze gave her hope that it did.
He looked as if he wanted to devour her, but didn’t make a move. He only watched as she explored his skin with her hands, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
“Misty said you think I’m too slow,” she told him softly, the words stinging her pride as she repeated them.
“The customers don’t seem to mind,” he answered. “You made good tips tonight.”
“So you’re not going to fire me?” She tried to make her voice sound teasing.
“Not yet,” he answered.
“I’d threaten you with a sexual-harassment lawsuit but you flirt with everyone at the bar except me. Why is that?”
“You’re the one pressed up against me.” He shifted, somehow drawing her closer without pulling her to him. “Who’s doing the harassing?”
He was right, but she could sense that his need matched her own. In the quiet intimacy of her apartment, it made her bold enough to ask, “Does this feel like harassment, Scott?”
“This feels like heaven,” he whispered. “But I didn’t come here for this. I’m no good for you.”
“That’s the point. I’m looking for a wild adventure and developing a new fondness for things that aren’t good for me.”
He took her arms and lifted them around his neck. Her head tilted and he brushed his lips against hers. Finally. It seemed as if she’d been waiting for this kiss her entire life.
And it was worth it.
His mouth felt delicious, the pressure sending sparks of desire along every inch of her skin. She lost herself in the sensations, reeling from the onslaught of need he aroused in her.
His strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her more tightly against him until she could tell how much he wanted her. She wanted him with the same need, like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. She was quickly tipping out of control and the unfamiliarity of that made her push away.
Lexi Preston never lost control. She knew the dark and dangerous path where that might lead.
“You’re right,” she said around a gulp of air. “I’m slow.” She covered her still-tingling lips with her fingers for a moment and stared at the floor. “I’m not one of your usual barflies.”
“I never thought you were.”
She pulled her shirt hem down where it had bunched around her waist. “You can stay here tonight.” She still didn’t meet his gaze. “On the couch. There’s no furniture in the second bedroom right now. Use the shower, whatever you need. I’m going to bed.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight. “Alone.”
Before he could answer, she turned and retreated to the bedroom.
* * *
Scott watched her go, willing his heart to slow and his body to settle down.
What the hell was he doing in Lexi’s apartment?
He’d told her the truth—he’d come here to sleep. After the last stragglers had gone home, he’d sat alone at the empty bar with a glass of Jack Daniel’s in his hand, ready to blot out the memories that flooded him when he closed his eyes. But he couldn’t lift the drink to his lips.
Sam was right—he’d been doing more self-medicating with alcohol than he should lately. Since his partner had been killed, it was the only thing that numbed the pain and the thoughts that raced around his brain. He’d always enjoyed a good buzz, but he’d never needed it the way he did now.
He’d already lost control in so many areas of his life. How much was he willing to give up? He’d poured out the glass of whiskey and paced the length of the building. There was nothing more depressing than an empty bar after closing, when the lack of body heat and voices made it feel like a sad, lonely shell of broken dreams.
A lot like his life.
He’d gotten in his truck and driven here. Sure, he could have called Tina or even Misty and found a warm welcome and a warmer bed. Instead he’d craved the lightness he felt radiating from Lexi. She was the purest person he’d met in a long time, someone good and innocent and everything he hadn’t been in years.
He didn’t understand his need for her. He’d never been attracted to the buttoned-up type before. But her strawberry hair, big luminous eyes and creamy skin made him want to fold her into him and not let go.
Except he knew he’d destroy the goodness in her. That was what he did to the people he needed. As much as he might want her, he’d keep his distance. He’d stay on the couch, stay away from her bed. As self-destructive as he could be, he still had a deep need to protect the people around him. Too bad he was the person Lexi needed protection against the most.
* * *
Scott slept better on the overstuffed couch than he had in years. He woke, showered and dressed, feeling halfway human again.
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Lexi still hadn’t made an appearance. He knocked softly on her bedroom door. “I know you’re awake. I hear you moving around. You can come out—I won’t bite.”
He heard something bang behind the closed door.
“I bet you have to go to the bathroom pretty bad by now.”
The door opened and Lexi appeared, fully dressed in jeans and a shapeless T-shirt that nonetheless gave him a little thrill. She tried hard to hide her petite figure and he couldn’t understand why.
“Why are you still here?” she asked warily.
“It’s cheery.”
“There isn’t a lick of decoration in the place,” she said and nudged him out of the way, slamming the bathroom door behind her.
He chuckled and moved back toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “It’s a hell of a lot cheerier than the bar.”
He opened several cabinet doors. “There’s got to be coffee here somewhere,” he said as she came into the kitchen behind him.
“I told you I don’t drink coffee. Tea is your only choice.”
He made a choking sound.
“There’s a bakery around the corner.” She rolled her eyes. “Have at it.”
“I have a better idea,” he told her. “Let’s grab breakfast. That diner in town is always crowded.”
Her eyebrows shot to the top of her head. “I’m not having breakfast with you.”
“Why not? All you’ve got is yogurt and fruit here. That’s not going to do it for me.”
“What does it for you isn’t my concern.” She put her hands on her small hips. “I let you stay here.”
“Consider it a thank-you, then.” He winked. “We’ll discuss our future living arrangements. The couch is great but I’m going to need to get a bed.”
She shook her head. “This is my apartment.”
“Actually,” he said slowly, “it’s my sister-in-law’s apartment. I have more rights to it than you.”
Lexi’s mouth dropped open and he found himself wanting to kiss it shut. “She’s renting it to me.”
“I don’t like staying at the bar. I’m family.” He grabbed her purse from the back of the chair and handed it to her. “My brother doesn’t trust you after what you and your father tried to do.”
She sucked in a breath.
“Don’t make me use the family card.”
“I’m ordering everything on the menu,” she mumbled and headed out the door.
They drove in silence the few minutes to the restaurant. Scott could feel her frustration. He knew Julia didn’t think much of him, and the truth was, his sister-in-law might very well rather rent her apartment to Lexi than him. He wasn’t letting on, though.
He didn’t want to stay at the bar. Although he would never admit it out loud, he didn’t want to be by himself right now. He’d been living alone since he’d left home at eighteen. By nature, he was a loner. Even with girlfriends, he’d never been much of a stay-the-night snuggler. But he’d felt a strange sort of comfort knowing Lexi was sleeping down the hall last night. He had about a decade’s worth of decent sleep to catch up on, and he was determined to make it happen.
She didn’t order everything on the menu, but did ask for both an omelet and a stack of pancakes, plus granola on the side.
“Where do you put all that food?” he asked after their waitress had filled the table with plates. “You’re no bigger than a minute and you’ve got enough calories on that plate for an NFL quarterback.”
Reaching for the syrup, she answered, “It’s going to be my dinner, too. I’ll get a take-home box.”
“So you conned me into buying you two meals?”
“I gave you a place to sleep last night.” She took a big bite of pancake.
“Why do you need to hoard food? You don’t strike me as someone hard up for money.”
“I don’t want to use my credit cards while I’m here.” She stopped chewing midbite and stared at him, as if realizing she’d shared too much. “I’m trying to save money.”
“You’re hiding.” He took a drink of coffee and studied her, the mystery that was his little pixie mouse falling into place. “From a boyfriend?”

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