Lone Star Burn: Love On Tap (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

“I like to eat, but I do yoga and exercise to keep myself in shape.”

“You’re doing a great job.” Gray signaled Hank. “We’ll take a Roadhouse special and two glasses of draft birch beer. We’ll eat at my corner table.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I haven’t eaten, and would enjoy your company.” Gray hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

They moved off the barstools at the same time and their bodies accidentally meshed. Her wedged sandals gave her the perfect advantage to determine he was taller.
Cross off number five,
she silently noted, and encountered something wonderfully hard pressing between her legs. The devil had Jennie slipping her hand between them, and she put her lips to his ear. “If all men were built like you, the company who makes Viagra would go out of business.”

Gray didn’t blush, but jerked back slightly from her very warm, inspecting hand. This tipsy woman was dangerous, and he’d been correct. With those ankle breakers, the top of her head was even with his nose. Her girls were quite full and very soft, and her hard nipples had familiarized themselves with his chest. He was glad the lights in the bar were on dim so no one could see the evidence of his arousal.

The owner’s table was out of the way, but offered the perfect view of what was happening. His two bouncers were perfectly capable of handling the crowd, but as the owner he preferred to keep his hand on any potential out-of-control situation. He was liable if a customer got into an accident after drinking at his establishment and someone got hurt.

As soon as they sat down, the waitress delivered a basket of popcorn and two glasses of ice water with lemon. Gray wished he could use the ice water to tamp down the ache between his legs.

“Thank you, Brenda. I’ve already ordered our dinner.”

Jennie filled her mouth with popcorn and chased it down with a half-glass of water, anything to keep her hands and mouth busy. She was far from a forty-year-old virgin, but up close, he was hero handsome. He smelled sexy and made her stomach feel queasy. It had to be a lack of food. She never did get to eat her fruit.

“You don’t have to do this. I believe I’ve already said that, and I don’t even know your name.”

“Considering you already had your hand in my crotch and I’ve given your girls five stars, I’d say introductions are necessary. What do you say we start again?”

“Five stars? Thank you very much.” She gave him a big smile and held out a hand. “Jennifer Reynolds. Only my mother and father call me that when they’re annoyed with me. Everyone else calls me Jennie.”

“Gray Wolff.” He reluctantly let go of her soft hand. Surprisingly, her nails were short, without flashy polish.

Jennie leaned against the back of a traditional captain’s chair, further surprised by her mystery man. “Now I am really impressed. You have a name to go with your background.”

Gray was pleased with her comment. No woman had ever compared his last name to his Mexican-Indian heritage, and he’d always been proud of his ancestral legacy. “I assure you, it’s the name I was born with. I’m still curious why you think all men are assholes.”

“The male species drives like they own the road. I don’t even know where the hell I am. I was driving along, minding my own business, singing ‘Copacabana’ with Barry Manilow, when this guy on a motorcycle was hot-dogging in and out of cars. He was a real menace and cut me off twice. The second time I drove right past my exit that would take me to the motel I’d planned to stay tonight. I called the police and reported him. My GPS told me to get off the next exit, and I drove for a half-hour before I stopped in a gas station. The guy just laughed and said, ‘Blondie, keep going,’ and I’d find the interstate.”

Gray got a bad feeling about the guy who cut her off, but tabled the thought for now. “The entrance to the interstate is still under construction. Just out of curiosity, did you get out of the truck before you asked for directions?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but when my bartender first saw you, he dubbed you ‘Malibu Barbie.’”

Jennie looked around at the way the female customers were dressed, and had to agree—she stuck out like the oddball in the crowd. She raised her glass in a salute and gave him a big smile. “Here’s to you, Ken!”

He returned her salute and smile. “I never had a Ken doll growing up, but my sister did. Just to put your mind at ease, I am courteous to all drivers, including women.”

He sounded sincere, and Jennie decided he was telling the truth. “I believe you. Consider yourself removed from the Men Are Assholes Club.”

They both looked up when Brenda set their drinks and a basket of freshly baked corn bread on the table. A server followed with a large platter of sizzling-hot food. It took up half the table.

The delicious smells seduced her taste buds. “This looks great. What should I eat first?”

“Try the ribs, then the pulled pork and barbecue brisket. I save the chicken for last. In between, I munch on the beans and coleslaw, and eat the corn on the cob.”

Jennie placed the large cloth napkin across her lap. “You eat like this every night?”

“No, I limit myself to once a week, and single portions only. We serve barbecue four nights a week. Our cook spends the other days smoking and prepping the meat. The other three nights we offer burgers, fries, and the standard menu.”

Jennie took her first bite of a rib and moaned. “Viva for the four nights you offer these ribs. They’re fantastic!”

Neither said a word, and did justice to the wonderful meal.

The more she ate, the better she felt. Jen wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back against the chair. “That is one of the best barbecue meals I’ve ever eaten.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Wait, you missed a spot and have barbecue sauce on your cheek.” Gray ripped open a packet of wet wipes and leaned in close to Jennie’s face, a lot closer than necessary, and gently brushed the reddish-brown sauce from her pink cheek. He liked touching her and didn’t want to stop. His fingers had a mind of their own, and moved lower to touch the corner of her perfectly shaped lips with the damp wipe. When the pad of his finger smoothed across the surface of her full bottom lip, he suddenly realized where they were.

Jennie couldn’t move the moment he touched her cheek. The flame from the candle in the center of the table was reflected in his beautiful gray eyes, and their stormy depths drew her in. The finger that moved across her lip was soft, like a butterfly kiss, and her heart thudded wildly in her chest. It was too personal, too intimate. She immediately backed away.

“Thank you for inviting me to have dinner with you,” she blurted. “Can you point me in the direction of the ladies’ room?”

“Walk toward the front door and make a right.” Gray appreciated her need to put some distance between them. He forced himself to keep his hands in plain sight on the table. “Can I order you coffee or tea? We have great homemade blueberry pie.”

Jennie put a hand to her already full stomach. “I’d love pie, but I’m about to burst.”
I need to get away from you so I can breathe normally
. “Coffee, please. When I come back, maybe you can tell me where I can find the closest place to stay the night.”

Gray really enjoyed her company and was disappointed she’d be leaving so soon. She treated him like an ordinary man and not one with a hefty bank account, backed by a name that appeared almost daily in financial columns. He’d been trying to step away his entire life, but no matter how far he traveled, he’d been drawn into the fold. At least things were on his terms.

He also couldn’t remember the last time he’d been turned on so quickly. The situation between them had heated up too fast, a goddamn first for him, and he didn’t do one-night stands. He’d learned his lesson long ago, plus he had too much going on to get involved with a blond-haired bimbo. Causing a scandal at this point in his life was the last thing he needed or could afford. He was so close to achieving his personal goal, and no woman was going to mess it up.

He couldn’t just brush her off, and remembered his manners. He’d walk her to her vehicle and point her in the direction of the motel down the road.

Jennie made her way into the ladies’ room and was grateful to be alone. Never in her entire life had she made such an ass of herself. She spread her fingers over her breasts, trying to ease the throbbing discomfort. Her panties felt damp, and she crossed her legs to ease the tingling that hadn’t been there for a very long time. Her gray wolf was pure sex—number six on her list.

She looked in the mirror over the three sinks and winced. The alcohol buzz had worn off and she realized how terrible she behaved. “Nice going, Jennifer! You’re a professional, not a blond dingbat! You don’t go to bars to pick up men and you hardly ever drink! He’s met six of your ten man requirements and you managed to insult and physically assault that gorgeous, perfect guy! Barbie wouldn’t be caught dead looking like you.”

Her hair resembled a rat’s nest and listed to one side. The small amount of makeup she’d applied that morning was long gone. She pressed a warm, wet hand towel to her cheeks and removed the clip from her hair, forgetting she’d left her purse at the table.

“God gave us fingers before combs,” she muttered. She wet her fingers and threaded them through the tangled knots to release some of the natural waves.

“Good enough,” she said with a heavy, disappointed sigh. “Leave it to you to find a guy in the middle of the Lone Star State, but it’s time to bid farewell to your gray wolf.”

It was when she headed back to the table that all hell broke loose.

Chapter 2

The waitress had just delivered the coffee to Gray’s table when Larry, his other assistant manager and bouncer, approached the table. The thirty-year-old was a local boy and took his job seriously. His light cocoa skin reflected an African-American heritage. He played football for Texas A&M. An injury to his knee had prevented him from pursuing a career in the sport, but he graduated with a degree in business management.

“Gray, we have a situation in the front entrance. Burt and Malibu Barbie are going at it like two combatants at high noon. They’re starting to draw a crowd.”

He wasn’t surprised, remembering his errant bartender rode a motorcycle and probably held the number one position in Jennie’s Men Are Assholes club.

“Thanks, Larry.” Gray stood up and away from the table. “I’ll take care of the situation. Keep everyone back. Tell the DJ to play ‘Don’t Rock the Jukebox’ by Alan Jackson.”

Gray hurriedly made his way to the front entrance and paused. The combatants had squared off face to face, with about three feet between them. Barbie had a good ten inches on his bartender, but he was a good hundred pounds heavier. Burt was a former wrestler, but had let his muscles go to flab. His application listed his age as thirty-nine, and he was divorced.

Personally, Gray would put his money on Jennie. She didn’t appear to be the least bit intimidated, and wasn’t afraid of a challenge. She’d jammed her hands on her curvy hips and thrust out those imposing breasts. All that luxurious blond hair flared about her back and shoulders. She was magnificent and turning him on, again, with her kick-ass attitude. He got warm all over imagining what else she could be doing with those never-ending legs while he cradled her girls in his hands.

“You’re an asshole!”

“You’re a bitch!”

“You don’t know how to drive!”

“You called the goddamn police!”

“What else did you expect when you were weaving in and out of cars? You made me miss my exit!”

“Women drivers have no sense of direction and should be banned from the road!”

When Burt took a step closer and raised one of his tight fists in Jennie’s direction, Gray decided enough was enough. He tried a neutral approach. “What seems to be the problem?”

“This blond bitch reported me to the police, and said I was driving erratically and was probably under the influence. The cops gave me a damn sobriety test!”

Jennie took a step closer. “They should have locked you up just for being an asshole!”

“You bitch!”

“Enough! The showdown at the O.K. Corral is over.” Gray moved to stand beside Jennie. “Ms. Reynolds is my guest and I don’t appreciate you talking to her that way.”

“You know her? Malibu Barbie,” Burt sneered.

“If someone calls me that one more time, I’m going to belt them!”

When Jennie inched closer to his furious bartender, Gray moved quickly and clamped an arm around her slender waist. She was a damn firecracker. “No one is going to get physical.”

“You are taking her side over me?”

“In this case, yes.”

Burt ran his eyes insultingly up and down Jennie’s body, currently pressed against his boss. “I pictured a rich guy like you having a better taste in women. Never thought I’d see you get a boner for a fluff piece of ass.”