Love, Chocolate, and Beer (Cactus Creek) (3 page)

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” murmured Isaac, thoughtfully evaluating the emotions running across Luke’s face with annoying accuracy. He didn’t comment further, however, which Luke appreciated. Like all his close friends, Isaac knew all about Luke’s take on love. It was a mirage.

Always just out of reach.

Blinking back the unwelcome demons from his past, Luke shrugged and quietly admitted to himself as much as Isaac, “There’s something about her.”

“Well if you’re going to go meet her, can you put in a good word for me with her hot friend, too?” prompted Isaac, casually giving him a little nudge and downplaying the significance of his meddling in one houndish swoop. “Look, now’s your chance,” he nodded over at the bar.

Like a first-time addict going from zero to sixty on a rush, Luke immediately swung his gaze around to find the brunette again.

God, she was pretty. And intriguing. And so impishly sweet a person couldn’t help but smile upon seeing her. Of course in his case, it was growing painfully obvious that smiling wasn’t the only reaction he’d be having to the woman.

Hell, anyone with eyes could see the hard time he was having keeping his reaction to himself; and it didn’t help one bit when her lips parted on a soft breath at just that moment.

Good grief. A brain simply couldn’t be expected to function with
all
its blood racing to command central south. His brows dipped low in reflection as he adjusted his jeans. Had anyone ever affected him this way before?

This wholly, this swiftly?

He shot to his feet.
Nope, never.
Fixing his gaze on her with an intensity that made it clear this wasn’t just aimless flirting for him anymore, he saw her eyes fire wildly for him once again.

Now altogether myopic about meeting the woman, he cut a path straight for her.

…Only to have his ego take a hit when she jerked her attention to the invisible watch on her wrist as reason to retreat away from the bar.

Undeterred, he picked up the pace.

Equally stubborn, so did she.

And this round went to her. She vanished behind a door to the back just as he reached the spot she’d vacated beside Isaac’s exotic bartender.

“Where’s she going?” he demanded.

The bartender extinguished a delighted grin and tilted her head with an innocent double-blink. “Who?”

His normal easy-going patience strangely on hiatus, he replied with just a smidgen of impatience, “The other worker you were clearly pointing me out to earlier.”

She shrugged, now visibly entertained. “That
other worker
had work to do.”

Luke’s lips thinned warily. “What game are you two playing at here?”

That made her expression sober quickly. “My friend isn’t into games.” She spoke now in full protective-friend mode, staring him down. “Competitive? Ridiculously so. A player? No.”

Luke felt his frown dissolve into a smile, liking both that compelling character profile and oddly, the bartender as well, in all her strange and candid glory. “Unlike
you
, you mean.”

A pleased laugh bubbled out of her. “God, you’re perfect for her. As sharp as you are blunt.” She studied him for a second before coming to some sort of conclusion. “She’s lugging liquor boxes out from storage, back near the brewery pass-through. You should go help her.”

He squeezed her forearm in thanks and set out to do just that, hurrying through to the back, down an empty hallway. Noiselessly, he opened the storeroom doors and was greeted by the sound of his mystery woman’s voice…softly cursing up a string of
very
creative expletives.

Oh yeah
. He grinned.
This was going to be interesting.

* * * * *

“
HOLY HEFEWEIZEN...
”
Incredulous, Dani yanked open a box of their mid-shelf tequila and pulled out two fresh bottles as she attempted to get her pulse rate in check. Though she was now a closed door away from the man who’d just about scorched her with a look mere minutes ago, she was still buzzing from the potent currents that had passed between them.

And fighting the impulse to go back out there for another hit.

Heck, it felt like every female cell in her body was ganging up on her, defiantly urging—demanding—she do the reckless for once and give in to each promised temptation that had been radiating from that man.

What in the world?

She’d seen the guy, what, three or four times in the last few weeks? They’d chatted for maybe a minute that time he’d come in to pick up a phoned-in lunch order. He was just a random guy, not even a local as far as she could tell.

She shook her head, thoroughly mystified. This wasn’t her. Dani Dobson did
not
get weak-kneed for a guy without getting to know him first, and most times, not even then. And she sure as hell had never felt like a cat in heat before tonight.

Taking a calming breath, she fanned her suddenly overheated skin. Clearly, she was just plain losing it, cracking finally under the mounting stress she’d been under lately. In a few weeks, her brother Derek would be home from his honeymoon and she still didn’t have a clue on how to buy out his half of the brewpub—the one thing making it impossible for him to pursue the dreams he’d patiently put on hold for her years ago.

The day she’d royally screwed up.

And for every day he didn’t complain, pressure, or do any less than give her support and praise for her successes—while never mentioning that one epic failure she never let herself live down—she hoarded another guilty reminder of how badly she was letting him down.

Yep.
The stress from that impossible problem would be enough to make any girl go crazy...the crazy here of course being an admission that Xoey could
possibly
be right about this ‘dry spell’ of hers reaching parched proportions.

And that the man from the bar would be her absolute first pick to quench it.

A jolt of awareness charged her skin as she recalled every memorable thing about him, all now tattooed in her brain. Halfway down the fairly long list, she huffed out to herself, “Xoey’s losing it. That guy can’t possibly… I mean he was just so—” She shook her head, at a loss for words to match her blistering hot thoughts.

“I was so...what?” prodded a deep, gentle voice from behind her.

“You!” she gasped, spinning around. She gripped the rum bottle she’d just unloaded from its crate and poised it before her like a fencing sabre. “What are you doing back here?”

“Whoa, easy.” He shot both his hands up in the air, amusement curving his mouth into a lopsided grin. “No need to bottle-bash me. Your friend, the other bartender, sent me in to help you.”

“Of
course
she did,” Dani muttered in exasperation.

Mental note: Xoey was
so
fired.

When she pulled her weapon away from his face, the man efficiently slid next to her as if she hadn’t been poised for assault with deadly bottle, and began opening liquor cartons like he was being paid to. “Now what were you just saying about me?”

She balked. “How could I’ve been saying anything about you?! I don’t even
know
you.”

His pupils flared. But not in annoyance at her well-worded, bald-faced lie. But rather…in hunger.

She took a step back.

“Sorry.” He tore his eyes away from her and focused on the whiskey bottles he was lining up behind the older bottles in accordance with the labeled restocking instructions on each shelf. “The thoughts in my stream-of-consciousness just went to dangerous waters,” he added in that malt-rich voice of his. “I went from thinking ‘pants on fire’ to thinking about your pants.” His voice graveled, heated for a second as if teased by his own words. “Then, well, you can follow the breadcrumbs.”

Lordy, the man was lethal to the female population.

She did in fact follow those crumbs, right over to her backside. Unconsciously, she took a compulsive swipe at her jeans with her free hand—nope, no flames engulfing her butt—and felt the temperature in the small room spike dramatically.

Dammit, if he didn’t quit looking at her like that—all steamy eyes valiantly glued to her face rather than her fire snuffing efforts below… She shivered. Not wanting to even mentally voice the trouble that would ensue from that train of thought. It was bad enough that the faint scent of one of her dark ales was lingering on his lips in that sexier than sin sort of way, but candying it atop a gentlemanly sweet center to boot was just playing unfair.

Of course, like a masochist, she tipped her head back to meet his gaze anyway.

“Hi,” he rumbled gently, a soft smile flirting with the corners of his lips.

It was a content murmur more than anything else and somehow he managed to make that one word, the mere act of greeting her, meeting her for the first time sound so...special.

Oh, hell.
The moment her fingertips began gravitating to his chest, the rest of her couldn’t help but follow. His hands settled lightly at her sides and she watched, spellbound, as the simmering heat in his eyes burned hotter. Deeper.

An unexpected sigh of pleasure seeped out of her and instantly, his fingers flexed against her hips in response. It was the only warning she got. In one sultry swoop, he strapped a steel arm around her waist to pull her flush against him before he caught her jaw with his free hand and just exploded past all her defenses with one slow, soft brush of his lips against hers.

Then just as quickly, he pulled back.

Seemingly shocked at his own actions, eyes fixed on hers as if to gauge her reaction, he dragged in ragged breath after ragged breath. To try to slow things down probably.

One second, two seconds...

On three, her lips found his racing pulse just above his collar. A timid tongue swipe was all it took to get her shoulders pinned back against a wall, his hand speared through her hair, and the sensitive skin along her neck schooled on how turnabout was so far beyond fair play.

Breathing became barely a memory as his mouth decimated any hope she had of control. Before she knew it, she was undoing her shirt, daring him to follow suit. She wasn’t normally the bold instigator type but with him...she couldn’t think, couldn’t wait, couldn’t—

She gasped.

I don’t even know this guy’s name.

Shoving him probably far harder than was necessary, she jerked out of his arms and outright leapt as far away from him as she could.

“Are you alright?” He held a startled, worried hand out to her like a forbidden apple.

Yes please.
She shook her head hard, sidling farther away from him. “I don’t do that…this. Ever.”

“Well then, you’re one of those who are just phenomenal without needing practice,” he teased lightly, the concern in his voice evident. “Hey, it’s okay. Why don’t we just sit and talk for a bit?” He perched atop a nearby liquor crate. “I promise not to pounce on you.”

He meant it, she could tell. He just sat there waiting, patiently giving her the time and space she needed. Slowly, she sank down onto the crate directly in front of him.

“Are you?” he asked softly, gently smoothing her hair back to study her expression.

Feeling like she’d lost all her marbles, she looked up in confusion. “Am I what?”

“One of those who doesn’t practice much? At this?”

Dani gasped again, this time in anger. “Did Xoey bribe you to end my ‘drought’ or whatever she calls it?!” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “Because I’ll have you know—”

“Hey, calm down.” His hands curtailed her efforts to drill into his sternum. “Your friend didn’t tell me about any, um, drought.” The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, you ass!”

“I wasn’t laughing. I was smiling.” The glare she shot him could’ve leveled a city.

His hand halted an inch from sliding into her hair again, or rather, an inch from her now fully visible teeth. “Why do I get the feeling biting a hunk of flesh out of me wouldn’t be beneath you”—he blinked, fascinated—“Did you just growl at me?”

While he was now showing her the same caution one would a feral cat, his heated gaze said he found her ferocity inexplicably sexy. “Yes, I was smiling about your drought; so sue me. I like the thought of you not remembering any kisses but mine.” His eyes roamed her face. “To hell with it, I don’t need all ten fingers…” He caressed her cheek and she felt her eyelids drift closed at the touch.

“Dani, you in there?”
bellowed Javier, one of her cooks from the kitchen. “
Can you bring out the—”
His severed request morphed into a muffled howl, a high octave just below soprano. “
Never mind
,” he reneged in a squeaking gasp of male agony shortly after.

Dani winced, recognizing the audible footprint of Xoey’s handiwork. The mental image of Xoey de-balling poor Javier threw Dani back to the here and now. As reality rushed in, she could once again hear the bar noises sifting in under the door, smell the savory aromas from the grill, and see—even in the semi-darkness—that she’d been minutes from rounding a few of the bases with a perfect stranger.