She stood behind the bar, filling wooden bowls with nachos and dip, preparing for the night ahead. The lady was hotter than the salsa she poured, and to her credit, she had no idea. Saturday already. Time was slipping by fast.
Last night had been a typical Friday at The Hungry Bear-busy, hectic and generally insane. Samantha hadn't complained, merely pitched in and worked until closing, while Mac had spent the evening watching and wondering. She hadn't changed out of that damn dress, and though it hung to her ankles, it emphasized every subtle curve.
Not knowing if she wore a bra beneath the flowered fabric nearly did him in. The men at The Hungry Bear weren't blind and Samantha was new to these parts. That alone made her a point of interest. He wondered if they, too, were watching the rise and fall of her breasts as she worked. He'd spent half the damn night wiping the sweat off his forehead and reminding himself he'd promised restraint.
Which wasn't easy, considering she made sure she touched him each time she passed. Even if she hadn't, he'd catch a whiff of peaches. Her seductive scent stood out in the bar.
Then she passed out cold before he ever made it upstairs. Mac understood. Being on her feet all night was grueling for anyone, especially a novice. After a restless night's sleep, he'd awakened on Saturday close to noon. Samantha had still been out cold. So he'd used the time to head on over to The Resort and check in, making it back to The Hungry Bear in time for opening, bags of tortillas in hand.
She hadn't questioned his absence and he hadn't felt obligated to explain. Yet another thing he received from Samantha. Unconditional trust and understanding. He wondered how she'd take it when he told her the truth.
She'd forgive him. Although the body and beautiful face had attracted him first, her lack of awareness and pretense interested him most. She'd understand him. She had from the first.
Just as he understood her. The tired woman who pitched in behind the bar, the sensitive woman who'd confided in him, the woman with deep familial feelings and values, she had made the biggest impression. Not that he'd forgotten the supple curves beneath his hands, or her unabashed response to his touch. But so much more than the packaging appealed to him now.
Their outing yesterday had been a mistake. He hadn't given himself distance, he'd drawn himself in deeper. Every time he turned around, Samantha was there… in his thoughts, his dreams… his future?
All last night, he'd sensed her approach as she passed beside him, her hip brushing against him, her scent wrapping itself around him. How the hell was he supposed to keep his distance if she kept up the innocent touches, the soft laughter, or the inane questions about customers that had them sharing what seemed like intimate jokes.
Mac couldn't stand another minute. Coming up behind her, he grabbed her around the waist.
'Oh!' She jumped back into his chest before easing herself into him. 'Don't sneak up on me like that.'
'Why not? I get to hold you this way.'
She turned in his arms, looping her hands around his neck. 'You get to hold me any way.'
He liked that thought. 'I called Theresa, and there's no way she can make it in tonight.'
'So?' She reached for a nacho and took a bite, then held the chip up to his mouth.
He finished it off, licking the salt off his lips and taking a nip at her finger as well. A small bite, but enough to make her eyes glaze with desire. He grinned. 'So I'm shorthanded again.'
Stepping backward, she held her arms out before him. 'What are these, if not two very willing hands?' She slipped those hands beneath his shirt and placed her palms on his chest. With yesterday's confidences behind them, Samantha seemed to feel more comfortable around him. He let himself enjoy the free-spirited part of her nature.
'You're on vacation,' he said through gritted teeth. Her warm hands against his flesh aroused him beyond belief.
'Define vacation.'
'A break from reality, doing what you enjoy.'
'Exactly.' Her fingernails raked lightly against his chest. 'Working in this bar is a break from nine-to-five corporate reality.' She raised his shirt and pressed her lips to his skin. 'And touching you is something I definitely enjoy.' Her tongue darted out and back, tasting him briefly before she raised her gaze. 'Unless you don't like it?'
She asked as if she really didn't know. The innocent asserting herself again. The woman was making keeping his promise to himself more difficult with each passing minute. He didn't know how much longer he could keep his hands off her. He let out a ragged groan.
'I guess you do.' She treated him to a soft but sexy smile.
He'd wanted her before, but the feelings she inspired now were incredible. If the bar wasn't opening for business in fifteen minutes, he might lose his last shred of self-control. He wanted their first time to be someplace better than a tabletop in The Hungry Bear. A soft bed and plenty of lingering time was what he had in mind.
He pushed his hand through her hair, bringing her face within inches of his own. Just a kiss. A quick taste of her glossy lips. He bent his head and got a heady, moist taste… Just as a loud banging sound came from the bar door.
'Open up.' When he got no immediate response, Zee yelled. 'Dammit, Mac, I lost my key.'
'The old man knows we're shorthanded. Probably thinks he's here to help.'
Her face had turned a deep shade of red, and she pulled his shirt back down. Zee's distinctive cackle didn't help the situation. 'Well he could have called first,' she muttered.
He shot her an amused glance. 'We're open in a few minutes,' he reminded her.
'I'm going upstairs to wash up,' she said. 'I'll be back.'
He gave Samantha time to disappear up the backstairs before calling out to Zee. 'Hang on, I'm coming,' Mac yelled. He pulled on his T-shirt and tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans. The insistent pounding continued even as Mac flipped the dead bolt and yanked open the door.
'We're still closed even for you.'
Zee ignored him and walked inside. 'I've known you all your life, Mackenzie. Don't pull any of that high-and- mighty crap on me.'
Mac rolled his eyes. So the old man had been his father's best friend and a part of Mac's life for as long as he could remember. That didn't give him the right to interrupt his sex life and drive him generally insane. This place belonged to Bear, though, which gave the old man more right to be here than Mac. And he did love the codger like a father.
He followed Zee to a bar stool and sat down.
'Where's your lady friend?' Zee asked.
'You scared her off.'
'Hah. Maybe she got smart and went to a hotel.'
Mac leaned on an elbow. 'If you want to know something, just ask.'
'I did. Where's your lady friend?'
He groaned. 'Upstairs.'
'That's what I thought.' Zee smacked Mac in the shoulder. 'Didn't your daddy and I teach you boys anything? First my dumb son lets a woman give him the runaround, and then there's you.'
'What the hell did I do?'
'In my day, a man married a woman before he took her to bed. I understand those rules don't apply today, but dammit boy, how about a little romance before you sleep with her?'
'I didn't sleep with her.' Yet. He'd slept next to her, though, and Zee wouldn't approve of that, either. Mac let out another groan. He was thirty-five. His own father had died twelve years ago, and Zee had stepped in without asking, guiding him through every rough patch in his life. He always seemed to pop up whenever Mac needed a father's advice.
He didn't recall asking for that right now, but he respected Zee enough to listen and think about what the old man said.
'I don't want any of the gory details,' Zee muttered. 'I can see enough without 'em.' His probing blue gaze settled on Mac's face. 'Wipe the damn makeup off your lips. You look like a pansy.'
Mac muttered a succinct curse and rubbed his lips with a paper napkin.
Zee shook his head. 'I just want you to think with your brain and not your… Well, you know what I mean.'
