Brazen

lemon.'

Mac turned their way long enough to raise an eyebrow at the request before finishing off other orders and making his way toward them. A nervous knot settled in the pit of her stomach. Her throat went dry, and Sam knew what she wanted. That was the easy part.

Letting him know would be harder.

He paused directly in front of her, bracing his hands on the old wood. Even the dark hair on his arms intrigued her, making her wonder what the texture would feel like if she ran her hands along his bare chest. 'Tequila.'

She shrugged nonchalantly, though she felt anything but. 'That's what the man said.'

'That's Zee to you, honey. And none of that watered-down crap Bear usually gives us,' he told Mac.

Mac glanced at her. 'You sure about that?'

'Why not?'

'Ever drink tequila before?'

She shook her head.

'That's why.' But he began working on their order, turning over two shot glasses and filling them with amber- colored Liquid.

'Who's Bear?' Sam asked.

'The guy who owns this joint,' Zee said.

'Your employer?'

'He owns the place and I'm working it. You tell me.' Mac set the glasses down in front of them, along with a salt shaker and a bowl of lemons. He slid the rest of the bottle over to Zee. 'Go easy,' he said, and turned to the people next to her.

The bar crowd had more than quadrupled since she'd arrived, and Mac worked the room alone without a moment's break. 'He looks overworked.'

Zee nodded. 'And underpaid.'

'I heard that.' Mac shot the old man a quelling look.

She tipped her head to the side. 'Hard work's nothing to be ashamed of.'

'He gave his cocktail waitress the night off,' Zee explained.

'I thought I just saw her here,' Sam said.

'You did. But Mac here thought she'd be better off baby-sitting her sick Mama than catering to us old men. Even paid her the night's wages… though she won't make any tips.'

And that explained the transaction she'd witnessed earlier along with the woman's hug of gratitude. Sam felt like a jerk.

She blinked and looked at Mac, who'd gone back to serving other customers.

'That was nice of him,' she murmured. She'd not only stumbled onto a sexy man, but he played Sir Galahad, to boot. Warmth spread through her as she acknowledged that this man had character as well as good looks.

'Boy's got a heart of gold. Always has. 'Course, it doesn't make up for his sour disposition.'

Mac paused in front of them. 'You bring out the best in me, old man,' he chuckled wryly. The light in his eyes and the laugh lines bracketing his mouth sent tremors of awareness shooting toward strategic body parts, making her sizzle and burn. She'd never felt anything like it before. Samantha rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms.

Zee ignored him and glanced at the still-full glasses. 'You gonna sit there all night or you gonna give me a run for my money? Watch and learn, honey.'

Sam had seen this maneuver in college, but she'd never witnessed an eighty-year-old man make the attempt. Zee performed admirably. 'You sure he's up to this?' she asked Mac as Zee wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

'Apparently more than you.'

She took that as a challenge. Copying the old man, she licked her hand, poured the salt onto her skin, licked, downed the contents of the shot glass and reached for the lemon.

'Not bad for a first-timer.' Zee congratulated, refilling the glasses.

Sam's gaze met Mac's the moment the sour fruit reached her lips… because she'd just gulped a mouthful of straight water mixed with a healthy dose of food coloring. And he knew it. He winked, telling her to play along.

In that instant, Sam got another glimpse into her knight in shining armor's character. He humored old men and looked out for damsels in distress. Considering her current predicament, Sam realized she fit that label, too.

Mac, whatever-his-last-name-was, was a sexy, hard-working, sexy, decent, sexy guy. The perfect man for her purposes. Sam liked what she saw and liked what she'd learned. She couldn't have found a better man than Mac.

But first he had a bar to run, and from the look of things, he needed help.

* * *

Out of beer. The ladies in The Hungry Bear never ceased to amaze him. The Resort stocked premium vodka, while Bear loaded up on dark beer. Same state, different breed of women, Mac thought as he headed for the back room to refill his supply.

He'd moved one box to get to the keg when a fragrant scent alerted him that he had company. He raised his head, but without looking over his shoulder, he knew. Samantha.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, without turning around. She was a distraction he couldn't enjoy right now. Later, when he locked up for the night, maybe. If she was willing. But not now.

'A couple just walked in and they wanted a beer. The tap was empty and I didn't see any bottles behind the bar, so I…'

'You were tending bar?'

'There wasn't anyone else to do it.' She squared her shoulders defensively.

'I told Zee to keep an eye on things.'

'Zee thinks he's drunk.'

That comment broke the tension, and they shared a good laugh. 'You look out for him,' she said. Approval and something more gleamed in her eyes, making him uncomfortable beneath her knowing stare.

'Someone has to… he's Bear's father. The old guy lost his wife a few years back and he's always looking for a little attention. It was nice of you to give it to him, by the way.' Not many people would give a lonely old man the time of day. Bear's customers put up with the old coot for Bear's sake and because like Mac, they'd known Zee and his friends forever. Samantha had done it for a stranger.

'How long had they been married?' she asked.

'Over fifty years.'

'Wow, that's a long time.' A shudder shook her slight frame.

'Not for them. They really loved each other.' Mac wondered when he'd become the spokesperson for marriage. Not that he'd mind settling down one day; in fact, he'd like nothing more. He just never believed he'd find a woman sincere and honest enough to make the risk worthwhile. He glanced at Samantha. Until now?

Mac wanted the chance to find out.

'At least those years were filled with love,' she said.

He met her gaze. 'Can't see tying yourself to someone for any other reason. Might as well wrap a noose around your neck otherwise.'

She cleared her throat. 'Would you mind changing the subject?'

'Why? Marriage makes you uncomfortable?' he asked lightly. If he had his way, he'd have plenty of time later to pry her secrets out of her. She obviously had many. 'Don't tell Zee or he'll be giving you an earful about tradition, respect and good old-fashioned love.' The older man's distinctive cackle filtered into the room.

She smiled, the wide grin knocking him senseless. There was no way he'd survive until closing with her hanging around, dodging his every move.

'He's harmless… and sweet.' She shut the door behind her and walked inside, moving closer until he caught a whiff of the tangy soap she'd used during her shower. Though he missed the hint of peaches clinging to her skin, this scent worked on him, too.

She drew a deep breath. 'Kind of like you,' she murmured, a nervous tremor touching her voice.