All or Nothing (30 page)

She had work to do.

Although that didn't preclude her sneaking the occasional peek at the eye candy Zach provided. On her way through the crowd, Jen noticed people pulling out their cell phones, more people than were usually using them in the bar, and wondered how they could hear anything.

The cell phones made sense when more people started pushing their way through the door. Suddenly, Mulligan's was crazy-busy and it was all Jen could do to get drinks to her section.

“We're getting killed!” Murray shouted with glee, grinning from ear to ear and giggling to himself for the first time Jen could remember.

All Shook Up
was next. Zach tossed the microphone from hand to hand as he danced and feigned the thump of his heart with one hand. At least the women in Jen's section didn't care how long it took for their drinks to come.

Jen caught Zach's eye, entirely by accident, and he lowered his sunglasses to give her another slow wink. The patrons in her vicinity turned to look at her, and although she tried to pretend she was indifferent, her blush gave her away.

At least the music was loud enough that no one could hear the thump of her own heart.

“Oh my God,” Kathy breathed as the karaoke machine segued into
Twist and Shout
. She was standing at the bar when Jen got back there, her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide as she stared.

Jen decided it would be safer not to look.

“Those women are salivating on the dance floor,” Lucy commented as she banged her own tray on the bar. “Make sure you don't slip on your way to your section.”

“Thanks for that safety tip,” Kathy said. “Maybe I'll just stand here and enjoy the view instead. Um!”

“Maybe you'll take care of your section or you'll be cut out of the tip pool,” Murray said.

Kathy gave him a glance. “Might be worth it.”

“Not tonight,” Murray said with a shake of his head.

Meanwhile, Zach claimed a bar stool and perched upon it. He peeled off his sunglasses and chucked them into the crowd with a theatrical gesture. The women from eighteen squealed and there was screaming as one caught them.

“This one's for a special lady,” he said in his Elvis voice, then started into
I Want You, I Love You, I Need You
. He worked the low notes and Jen felt the back of her neck burning, but told herself not to look.

He could
not
be singing to her.

Not after what she'd said to him.

But the feeling that she was being watched only grew. Murray's grin and Lucy's nudge were also big clues. Jen was sure that her face was as red as a beet, she was so hot. She surrendered at the second verse, and looked.

Zach was singing straight to her.

At her.

For her.

She would have to assume that he had forgiven and forgotten.

The details weren't important. The man looked good enough to eat with a spoon. Or without one. She remembered how he kissed and her mouth went dry.

Jen stood, a tray with three marguerites and two glasses of red wine on her shoulder, and could not for the life of her remember where she had been going. Or why.

“Give me that,” Lucy said, spinning the tray out of Jen's hand. “You'll lose your tips.”

“I can do it.”

“Not when your feet are rooted to the floor.”

It was true. “Table twenty-two,” Jen whispered, unable to look away from the gleam of Zach's eyes. “I think.”

“Yup, twenty-two,” Murray confirmed.

Lucy paused to whisper in her ear. “Remember that it's not often a man will make an ass of himself for a woman.”

“Even this one?”

Lucy glanced at Zach before she smiled at Jen again. “Especially this one,” she whispered, then made off with Jen's tray.

But was that true? Most men would never have pretended to be Elvis, but with Zach, who knew? What was too much for a man who did everything to excess?

One who would do anything to provoke a reaction?

Zach drew out the last note and the women cheered. He did his ‘thank you very much' routine, then turned to address Jen. His eyes were sparkling and his lips were curved, as if he was on the verge of laughter, as if he was laughing at himself.

Those fake black sideburns were enough to make Jen smile back at him.

(Or maybe it was something else that made her smile.)

“And now a duet,” Zach said over the clamor for more. “But for this song, I have to be a Temptation —” the women cheered, but Zach just offered his hand to Jen “—and I'll be needing a Supreme.” He was pretty much daring her to join him on stage, and Jen didn't think twice before she took his challenge.

Maybe she was hoping to surprise him. She had a definite sense that he'd been thinking he'd have to persuade her. The crowd parted as she strode to the stage and she recognized the music as it started.

I'm Gonna Make You Love Me.

It was a frightening possibility, but Zach didn't have to know that.

“You won't,” she whispered, smiling despite herself.

“Never underestimate the power of persistence,” he murmured with a wicked grin.

“You're like Tigger the Tiger,” she complained and he laughed.

“Remember that the wonderful thing about Tiggers is that I'm the only one,” he said, quoting the character's signature tune.

Jen didn't say anything, because she suspected it was true. There couldn't be another man like Zach anywhere.

And he was singing with her.

Meanwhile, Zach sang the first verse, pledging all the things he would do as he looked into Jen's eyes as if he meant it. She halfway thought she wouldn't be able to sing the chorus, her mouth was so dry.

But their voices fit together pretty well. Once she got going, she had a great time. Even her solo verses were easy, because Zach mugged for the crowd. It was as if they'd sung together a hundred times. Jen was half-laughing, half-singing, and it was a good thing she knew the words as well as she did.

She was alive and even better, she was enjoying it.

When the music faded and the crowd began to cheer, she had one warning glimpse of the mischief in Zach's eyes before he caught her around the waist, dipped her low and winked. “Having fun?”

Jen had a heartbeat to realize that she was. She laughed, but before she could answer, Zach bent lower. He kissed her quickly and she pushed at his shoulder, embarrassed to be the center of attention. “Don't. Not here.”

He arched a brow, his expression wicked. “Afraid you'll lose control in front of witnesses, because you missed me so much?”

“As if,” Jen retorted. She curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “Brother Zach.”

He laughed then, but Jen gave him a lasting kiss, tasting his surprise as she did so. When she might have broken the kiss, Zach deepened it, kissing her as if he'd never get enough of her.

Jen was dizzy.

And she didn't care. She just closed her eyes and hung on.

* * *

Zach's plan was going well so far.

Really well.

It was going better even than expected, which was saying something. He'd come with three objectives: to see Jen again, to make her laugh, and to persuade her to attend Christmas dinner. That last one was going to be sticky—especially as he didn't particularly want to attend himself—but he thought he was doing pretty well so far.

The way she had stared at him without expression when he'd arrived had spooked him a bit. Maybe she'd been incredulous. Maybe she'd been skeptical. Maybe she'd really meant all that stuff she'd said. None were particularly encouraging options. Her response had had a serious impact on his sense of triumph.

He'd thought then that his good news should wait.

It had been better when Jen started to sing. He loved how joyous she looked when she sang, loved how she sparkled like a diamond when she was happy.

The kiss was a total bonus.

He spun her triumphantly after breaking their kiss, liking the color in her cheeks and the way her lips were swollen. Her hair was disheveled and he had a definite sense that he'd jangled the order of her universe a bit.

That had to be a good thing.

“We need to talk,” he whispered to her.

“I don't think so,” she said, but there wasn't a lot of conviction in her tone. She looked too happy for him to be deterred. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“I was working.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No rest for the wicked,” he said with a grin. “Proof positive I've been busy.”

“Doing what?”

Zach decided to go with the truth. “I've been working on this adult thing. I think I'm doing pretty well, for a novice.”

“With no shortage of confidence,” Jen said wryly.

Zach laughed. “Hey, we make our own reality. Believe you can do it and you can, etc. etc.”

“Now, I am worried. You sound like my mother.”

“No need to worry. We just need to talk.”

Jen folded her arms across her chest. “Why?”

“You still owe me and I've come to negotiate.”

Jen's protest came low and fast. “You had your turkey dinner...”

“See? I told you we needed to talk.”

Jen gave him a quelling look. “We're
not
going on a date. We're not going to start seeing each other...”

“Then what's your suggestion? Aren't you curious? Don't you want to even hear my idea before you turn it down?”

Jen regarded him steadily for a moment, and there was a glitter of curiosity in her gaze. “Okay, I get off at one. You can come back here and meet me then.”

That wasn't an ideal situation, to Zach's thinking. “It'll be late.”

Jen scooped up her tray. “The talk will be short.”

Zach knew when he'd hit a wall in a negotiation and he'd definitely reached one here. He'd just have to work with the opportunity presented. “You're right: I need my beauty sleep.” He winked at her. “See you at one then.”

“But what...”

He didn't linger for Jen's question, because he knew what it would be. Better to let her worry about it.

Instead, he took his bows, strode through the crowded bar, reclaimed his helmet and jacket, then got back on the motorcycle he'd borrowed from James. He revved the engine, then peeled off.

Jen hadn't forgotten him.

Yet.

She still kissed like a goddess.

And he'd be seeing her at one.

As missions went, this one had gone pretty well.

* * *

One of the women at eighteen was wearing Zach's silver sunglasses on her head. They treated Jen like a returning heroine when she brought their next round of marguerites.

“So, you know him?” the one with the sunglasses demanded.

The others giggled.

“What's his name?”

“Where does he live?”

“How do we find him?

“I've never seen him before in my life,” Jen said, her expression deadpan.

“Then you can't introduce me?”

“Sorry, no.”

“But he threw you his jacket!”

“I just was in the vicinity. I used to be a coat check girl. Maybe a finely honed instinct just put me in the right place at the right time.”

“But that kiss...”

“It wasn't bad, really. You know, though, I've had better.” Jen hefted her tray, stifling a smile as she turned back to the bar. The women erupted into chatter behind her, one insisting that she shouldn't have given up waiting tables.

“What are you smiling about?” Lucy asked.

“As if you need a memo,” Kathy said, slamming her tray on the bar. “Where are my tequila shooters, Murray?”

Lucy spared a glance to Kathy, then winked at Jen, apparently for reassurance.

The bar was jumping from that point on, too busy for chit-chat. There was no shortage of men willing to sing for the women on the dance floor and no lack of women ready to sing themselves. They were serving drinks as fast as Murray could pour them. Jen thought she'd probably sleep for a week after she survived this shift.

At least, if her pulse ever slowed down enough for her to sleep.

What did Zach want? Even though she knew better than to be curious, Jen couldn't help wondering. Her shift seemed to last forever and she had plenty of time to think of possibilities.

By 12:45, she was dead on her feet. She was wiping tables in her section, cashing out clients and making change, when Zach strolled into the bar. He was wearing his usual jeans and T-shirt with that leather jacket, and when he claimed a seat at the bar, Murray reached for a beer glass. Zach waved him off and watched Jen with familiar intensity. She found herself nervous as she came to the bar to get change for a table.

“Hi,” he said.

“You're early,” she said. “Afraid I'd stand you up?”

“Just a regular Boy Scout,” he said and held up two fingers in a salute. “Being prepared, that's me.”

“So that must mean that you have a knitted avocado,” she teased.

“Not yet. I'm working on it.”

“Is that the favor you want?'

He grinned. “Don't sell yourself short, Jen. The knitted avocado is cool, but I've got a better idea that your knitting me one.”

“One that involves more personal interaction, I'll guess.”

Zach turned to Murray and heaved an ecstatic sigh that made Jen want to smack him. “Don't you love smart women?” When Zach turned, Jen could see that his skin was red on his cheeks where the fake sideburns had been.

Murray raised a meaty finger to expound, but Jen had to fight to not laugh out loud. He followed her glance and chuckled. “Battle scars,” he said.

Zach raised a hand to his cheek and winced. “It's not nice to laugh at the wounded.”

“What did you stick them on with?” Jen asked.

“Some stuff that ensured I won't have to shave for a week. Does it look bad?”