Miss Firecracker: Wild West Boys, Book 2 (3 page)

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yep. It’s also sexual harassment and I don’t put up with that crap in my bar. If the sheriff hadn’t banned Norbert for his part in last night’s events, I would have. So you don’t worry about him showing up tonight.”

“Good.” She swiped the table one final time. “Done.”

He whistled. “You’re fast.”

“Efficient. Now what?” She glanced at the door. “Are we open for business?”

“Yeah. Been slow this time of day. Picks up around four when all the events let out. That’s when Mandy comes in.”

Willow followed him behind the bar. “So we’re alone?”

Blake spun around so fast she smacked her face into his chest. His hands landed on her shoulders to steady her. “You aren’t afraid to be alone with me, are you?”

“No. Geez. I woke up naked with you this morning, Blake. I think you’ve proved yourself trustworthy.”

“And here I was hoping you’d try to find my hidden wild streak.”

“Do you have one?”

“Everyone has one. I can’t wait to see more of yours.” He smiled and chucked her under the chin. “Let’s finish prep.”

He showed her how to load the glass washer behind the bar. Then he demonstrated the best way to slice the fruit for drinks.

Willow stared at him as he dried glasses.

“What?”

“Tell me about yourself, Blake West.”

Unease briefly skittered across his face. “Not much to tell. I’m your basic, boring bartender.”

“I don’t believe it.” She let her gaze wander from the mass of curls, down his rugged face, across that solid chest and sculpted abdomen to his lean hips.
Don’t look lower
. Yet, she wondered if he was well proportioned everywhere. Withholding a smirk, she met his eyes and pointed the knife at him. “You can do better.”

“All right, all right. I’ll talk if you quit waving that knife at me and get to work.”

“Fine.” She turned.
Thwack
. The knife halved a lemon. “Start talking.”

Heavy sigh. “I’m a born and bred Wyomingite. I’ve lived outside of Sundance my whole life.”

“Really? I went to Devil’s Tower once. Gorgeous country.”

“Yes, it is.”

“You a cowboy?”

Pause. “Not really.”

“How do you know Dave?”

“We went to high school together. He married a woman from here. They ended up divorced and she moved on, but he stayed.”

“Are you married?”

“Nope.”

“Ever been married?”

“No. I have a dog though.”

Willow snorted.

“See? Told ya I’m boring. What goes around comes around. Why don’t you fill me in on Willow’s world.”

Thwack
. Another lemon drawn and quartered. “What do you want to know?”

“Your day job. How you got to be a beauty queen.”

Willow peeked at him over her shoulder. “The last one surprised you, huh?”

“No. Why would you say that?”

“Because it shocked everyone else in the county.” Jerks.
Thwack
.

“I think we’ve established I’m not like everyone else, Will.”

Will
. Her nickname. Most men in her employ called her Will, but it sounded different coming from Blake. Almost like a term of endearment.

Wishful thinking.

“But it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.”

The man was so polite. She turned and rested her behind on the lip of the prep sink. “No, I’ll tell you. It’s sort of funny in a ‘the joke’s on me’ way. The Miss Firecracker Pageant is always held during the county fair prior to the Fourth of July celebrations.

“Last year, there was a shortage on contestants. So this bitchy girl Destiny, who’s been a pain in my rear my whole life, filled out the paperwork in my name and submitted it as a joke. The pageant director, a good friend of mother’s, called me two weeks before the pageant, beside herself that I planned to participate as a ‘surprise’ for my mother. She reminded me to pay my entry fee.”

“Jesus. That’s cold.”

“Yeah. I figured out what’d happened. I was embarrassed, planning to get even with Destiny—after I withdrew from the stupid competition—when my mother showed up at my house. With a beaded evening gown and a boatload of makeup. And hair gunk.” Willow focused on a bottle of tequila on the shelf beside Blake rather than his curious eyes. “It’s obvious I’m not—nor have I ever been—beauty queen material. I’m like…beyond a tomboy. I skipped my high school prom for a monster truck rally in Omaha. I graduated from Vo-Tech for cripesake. I wear steel-toed boots, not stilettos.

“Growing up I tagged after my dad on jobsites rather than hanging with Mom and learning to cook, sew, shop or do girly things. Clothes, hair, makeup—that whole fussy routine eludes me. In the morning I wash my face, brush my teeth and throw my hair in a ponytail. That’s my entire beauty regimen.”

“I’m guessing you clean up pretty good, Will.”

She shrugged off his compliment, even when it secretly pleased her. “Seeing my mom bursting with excitement about helping me do all the pageant stuff…I couldn’t back out. And because people laughed me off, I was even more determined to win.”

“And you did.”

“Yes, I did. The best part was Destiny’s absolute shock. Totally worth parading across the stage in a swimsuit and ankle-breaking heels.”

“What about your dad?”

“He was happy about the ‘no dating’ rule.”

“There’s a no dating rule?” Blake asked.

“Yep. This is an old-fashioned type of county contest that doesn’t feed into any of the larger pageants like Miss Nebraska. It’s more…wholesome, so the coordinators expect the winner to be a role model for the young girls in the area. And truthfully, the dating thing wasn’t an issue for me, since I haven’t dated in forever.” Willow frowned. “My dad warned me to expect the guys to razz me about the sash clashing with my toolbelt.”

“Toolbelt?” Blake’s look was quizzical. “What do you do for a living that requires you to wear a toolbelt?”

“I’m a carpenter.”

He grinned. Widely. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his gorgeous dimples. “What?”

“We have something in common. I’ve been working off and on as a carpenter for the last few years.”

“As a hobby? Between bartending gigs?”

Immediately Blake stiffened up. “A hobby. Yeah. Something like that.”

Open mouth insert foot
. And the foot appeared to be stuck in her big mouth because no apology poured out.

He tossed his towel on the bartop. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.” And he was gone.

She hadn’t meant for her question to sound bitchy and condescending. Blake hadn’t been judgmental toward her at all, when he had every right to be after her bad behavior, so she felt ten times worse.

Buck up, little camper, and apologize.

Five minutes after massacring the remaining fruit, she’d bolstered her nerve to approach him.

Willow tracked Blake to a storage room by the empty box he heaved out the doorway. She poked her head around the corner when she deemed it safe. “Blake?”

“What?”

“I need—”

“Do we have customers?”

“No. But I wanted—”

“If you’re done with prep you can start hauling ice.”

“Okay. But I wanted to apologize for what I said.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” He ripped a cardboard box in half. With his bare hands.

Undeterred by his curt tone, Willow sidestepped the piles and stood next to him. “It came out all wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. Forget it.”

“I can’t.”

“Try.”

“But I hate that you think I’m a jerk.” She paused. “If it’ll even things up, I’ll let you say something mean to me.”

His look held disbelief.

“No, I’m serious. How about…do they make toolbelts in your itty-bitty size? Or do you shop in the toy department?”

Blake laughed softly.

“Or, I know. Do you need a stepladder to see the drink orders on the bar?”

“Willow. Come on. Stop.”

She sidled closer. “I’m trying to be a bigger person—ha ha—and apologize to you. Can’t you just accept it?”

“Fine. I accept your apology.”

“If I tell you I’m sincerely interested in your background as a carpenter, will you ignore my earlier snotty response?”

He sighed. “Look. I’m between jobs right now and obviously I’m a little touchy about it. So I’d appreciate it if you’d drop it, okay?”

“Okey-dokey.”

“Can I get back to work now?”

She didn’t budge.

“Will?”

Willow was too busy drooling over his bulging biceps to answer. Without thinking, she reached up and ran her hand from his left shoulder to the bend in his elbow. Yep. Hard as steel. Man. He could probably lift a car.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” She ducked under his arm. When she gazed into his golden eyes, lust punched her in the gut. “Arms like yours oughta be featured in a fitness magazine.” Willow touched his right biceps and squeezed. “Ooh, flex for me.”

He did.

“Ooh. Do it again.” His muscles rippled beneath her palm.

“Now this side. No, do both sides at the same time.”

“If I let you feel me up, what are you gonna offer me in return, sunshine?”

Her gaze flicked to him. His face was there. Right there. “What do you want?”

“I’ll settle for this.” Blake dipped his head and kissed her.

It wasn’t a sweet, gentlemanly smooch. It was a no-holds-barred-I-want-you-right-freakin’-now explosion of desire. He shifted his mouth for a better angle, all hot, thrusting tongue contrasting with the smooth glide of his wet lips on hers.

She fell into him with complete abandon.

The way Blake kissed… Man, it felt as if his hands were teasing every inch of her, even when his mouth was the only place their bodies touched.

Blake eased back on the intoxicating kiss, proving his lazy exploration was as potent as his passion.

Willow’s head spun. She squeezed his biceps, intending to use his stupendous arms like her personal chin-up bar, when a voice outside the room shouted, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Blake didn’t rip his mouth away and stagger back guiltily. He merely lifted his lips a fraction and whispered, “Just like I figured.”

“What?” she whispered back.

“One little taste of you ain’t gonna be enough for me.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. But it’ll keep until there’s a lock on the door and no chance we’ll be interrupted.”

Holy moly.

“We’ll finish this later.” He pushed back and yelled, “Have a seat. I’ll be right there.”

Footsteps faded. The bell clanked signaling they had more customers.

“You ready for this?”

She stared at his mouth and unconsciously licked her lips. “Umm. No.”

“I’m talking about your shift in the bar.”

“Oh.” She looked at him. “I’m not ready for that either.”

Those deep dimples appeared. “Good to know.” Blake grabbed a package of bar napkins and ambled out of the storeroom.

It was going to be one very long night. Willow put her hand to her stomach to quell her nerves and realized her hangover was almost completely gone.

Chapter Three

During a brief lull, Mandy leaned next to Willow at the waitress station. “You’re not doing too bad for your first time working in a bar.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Her feet hurt. She’d spent the last three hours running around, trying not to appear as frazzled as she felt. “Are you usually the only cocktail waitress?”

“No. That snot-nosed slacker Ginny called in sick the second Dave left town. She’s not sick unless it’s from too much sun up at the lake.”

“Won’t she get fired?”

“No. Dave won’t can her lazy ass since she’s his third cousin twice-removed or some damn thing. I’m glad you’re here helping out, although I’m sure you’d rather be doing something else.”

“This isn’t bad, actually. It beats roofing in the hundred-degree heat.” Willow admitted it was a nice change to work with a woman. Mandy was a riot, quick-witted, sarcastic, not the typical cynical cocktail waitress she’d expected.

“That’s right. You run Gregory Construction.”

“I run part of it.”

“Bet hammering on a roof had nothing on the hammering inside your noggin this morning.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Willow paused. “So you probably saw the whole thing, huh?”

“Yep. Look, I didn’t get a chance to say thank you for going after Norbert with a barstool.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Do you know how many times he’s done that? Stuck his slobbery face in my tits and laughed about it? Knowing I wouldn’t do a damn thing?” Mandy chewed her lip. “I have a kid to support and I need this job. But you saw what Norbert did and took action.”

“That’s not what you told Blake. You said Norbert hit on
me
.”

Mandy’s face colored. “I’m not used to anyone standing up for me. I thought telling Blake that Norbert had propositioned you was a better explanation for your umm…aggressive reaction.”

Learning the truth about what’d gone down last night alleviated every bit of her guilt about taking a swing at the old pervert. Apparently she retained some semblance of a conscience even when she was drunk.

You know exactly why your conscience popped up and you attempted to pop Norbert.

Every day she dealt with men who held that “women are inferior sex objects” attitude. She’d listened to crude jokes and lewd comments on the jobsite. And if she was a hard-ass to her employees or to her subcontractors about it, then she was called everything from a ballbreaker to a lesbo Nazi.

“Putting up with geezers copping a feel should not be part of the job.” Mandy shuddered. “I hope Norbert never comes back. But I’m sure he’ll be in his usual spot once Dave returns from vacation.”

“Dave never does anything about Norbert?”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m serious because that’s sexual harassment.”

“I mentioned it several times, but Dave’s first priority is his customers.” Mandy jerked her chin toward Blake. “I wish Dave would let Blake run the place.”

Rather than ask, “Is there a chance he’s sticking around?” Willow hedged. “He seems like a good guy.”

“He is. He sure went to bat for you last night.”

“Pity I don’t remember anything.”

Mandy cocked her head. “Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“I got the impression you two planned on making hot steamy memories the second you were alone upstairs. But then again…since Blake is the Boy Scout type, I’ll bet he didn’t take advantage when you were wasted, huh?”

“No. He didn’t.” For the millionth time Willow was glad Blake had been on duty last night. Things could’ve ended so much worse for her.

“Well, sugar, you’re sober tonight.” She winked.

The sixtop in the corner waved for Mandy’s attention and she sauntered off. Willow heard Blake wiping the bar behind her.

“You doin’ okay, Will?”

“Yep. If I haven’t said it enough, thanks for looking out for me last night.”

“Aw, shoot, ma’am, it weren’t nothin’. Just doin’ my job. But I wouldn’t be opposed to such a purty lady as yourself thankin’ me good ‘n’ proper with a little ol’ kiss.”

“If I remember correctly…you said you didn’t think we could stop at just one little ol’ kiss.” She peeped at him over her shoulder.

“I hope not. ’Cause I can think of a whole lotta places besides your tempting mouth that I’d love to put my lips.”

A fluttery sensation took wing in her belly. Before she could push words past her thick tongue, a customer shouted her name.

For the next few hours, Willow’s conversations with Blake involved drink orders. The man defined adept; he could do twenty things at once. Since the place was packed, customers were coming up to order from him, plus Blake had to fill her drink orders and Mandy’s drink orders.

He kept up, but Willow was glad a lanky teenage boy showed up to help out. His main job consisted of hauling buckets of ice and dragging trays of dirty glasses back to the industrial dishwasher and bringing clean racks back out.

What bothered Willow more than her cramped toes or the thick clouds of smoke was how few people she recognized in this crowd. She should’ve known everyone. She was a native of Broward. She was in the prime barhopping years of her life. Heck, up until last night, she’d been Miss Firecracker, the ambassador to the county. Why did she feel like an outsider?

Her attention whipped to Blake. He looked like he belonged here. Smiling and chatting as he poured a pitcher of beer and refilled a bowl of pretzels.

Then Blake seemed to sense her staring at him. Their eyes met and held for a heartbeat or two. No one else would’ve thought anything of it, but that brief, molten, purely sexual look rocked her to her core.

Maybe he wasn’t such a Boy Scout after all.

During a respite, her belly rumbled. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day besides two slices of toast.

Mandy said, “I heard that belly roar. Blake ordered pizza and sub sandwiches. It’s in the breakroom.” Mandy snagged Willow’s tray of empty glasses. “Grab something to eat before you pass out. I’ll keep an eye on your section.”

“Thanks.”

Willow skirted the dwindling crowd and fell on the cold food like a starving hyena.

She’d just wiped her mouth when Blake’s voice bounced off the concrete walls. “Lord, do I love to see a woman with a healthy appetite.”

She took another swig of ginger ale. “Is that your gentlemanly way of telling me I eat like a pig?”

“No. I was talking about all appetites, not just the one pertaining to food.”

“Oh.” Willow held perfectly still as Blake crowded behind her.

“Although, I’m feeling guilty. I starved you all day and the best I could manage tonight was fast food.”

“That’s okay. I eat a lot of fast food.”

“I don’t. I can’t stand the stuff.” Blake drew his finger down the side of her neck. Goose bumps danced across her skin. “I’m a good cook. I’d like to make you a decent meal after the bar closes.”

“You’ve already done so much—”

“No expectations, Will. Just you and me, sharing a meal.”

She slowly turned around. “I’m not usually hungry at two in the morning.”

“Then I’ll save my culinary delights for breakfast.” Blake brushed his mouth over hers. “Stay with me tonight.”

“But I…”
Really really want to scream yes.

“I got the feeling watching you earlier that you were feeling a little displaced.”

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmmm. You looked that way last night too, right before you started dropping cherry bombs.”

How had he picked up on her melancholy so quickly? Was it true about bartender’s intuition? Or was he just that tuned in to her?

“I hate to think of you sitting home alone, stewing about your place in the world and in Broward, Nebraska. And me sitting here alone, worrying about you stewing. Wouldn’t it be better for us to be alone together?”

“Then we wouldn’t be alone.”

“Exactly. And there’s always this in the plus column.” Blake kissed her. Not hot and hard. Not sweet and warm. His mouth simply…overtook hers. The kiss knocked her sideways, even as he pressed her against the wall to keep her upright.

When he broke free from her mouth, Willow gasped for breath.

He whispered, “You undo me. You have from the second you I saw you.”

“Umm. Yeah. Wow. The feeling is mutual.”

“Good.” His teeth scraped her neck.

“Isn’t this against the rules?”

“What I wanna do to you right here in the breakroom could probably get us arrested for indecency.”

“No. I mean between a boss and an employee—”

“Neither of us is officially an employee. The ‘no fraternizing’ rule doesn’t apply.” Blake retreated. “But I won’t push you to be with me if you’d rather say no.”

Willow grabbed his shirt. “I don’t want to say no. You’re so sweet and hot and sexy and nice, but the truth is I don’t have a lot of experience with this type of thing.”

“What type of thing?”

“Lust.”

He grinned.

And just because she’d been dying to, she rose to her tiptoes and dipped her tongue into the deep grooves bracketing his mouth. First the left side, then the right. A sound resembling a growl rumbled from his chest.

She liked the effect she had on him, even when the situation scared her spitless. Willow twined her arms around his neck. “But I feel I oughta give you fair warning. I’m not the wild woman you met last night. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“In what? Your table manners? We’re just sharing a meal, remember?”

“Okay. Just sharing a meal sounds great.” Once she’d said the words out loud, it seemed less a big deal than she’d made it out to be. She tended to overanalyze everything, preparing for every contingency—real or imagined. Just this once, she wanted to go with the flow.

The bar emptied at one and Blake decided to close early. Mandy and Willow were laughing and trash talking while cleaning up front, which made closing duties fly by. After he walked Mandy out to her car and locked the back door, he saw Willow sitting at the bar counting her tips.

She was so damn cute. Concentration wrinkling her forehead. Her full lips pursed. Her legs swinging back and forth beneath her chair.

He’d worried having her “help” in the bar would actually create more work for him, but Willow had held her own. In fact, even skeptical Mandy mentioned being grateful for Willow’s help.

Blake clicked off the neon bar signs and poured himself a fresh Coke. “Want something to drink?”

“Sure, I’ll have what you’re having.”

“One Coca-cola coming right up.”

She stopped arranging the dollar bills so they all faced the same way. “I figured you’d have a beer to relax now that you’re off the clock.”

“Nope. Here’s a secret. I avoid alcohol. Working in a bar it’d be too easy to become a drunk. To be honest, I really don’t drink much.”

“Me neither.”

He crunched an ice cube and eyed the pile of cash in front of her. “So? How’d you do?”

“Well, I didn’t make as much as Mandy, but she is a professional. After I tipped Deke…” Willow’s hand froze. “Shoot, was I supposed to tip out to you too? Is that standard?”

“Depends on the bar. Back home, the waitresses usually give me a cut, even when I get my own tips. Some nights, I make more than they do.”

“Did you make tips tonight?”

“Yep.”

“How much?”

“You
do
know it’s not polite to ask a man how much money he makes, right?”

“How much?” Willow repeated.

Blake angled his head toward her pile. “Ladies first.”

She sat up a little straighter. “I made one hundred eighty-two dollars and ninety-three cents.”

“That’s a nice chunk of change.”

“I thought so. Now spill your take.”

“Two seventy.”

“You made two hundred and seventy dollars?”

“Uh-huh.”

Willow lowered her forehead to the bar and sighed. “I’m the lowest breadwinner of everyone. I’m gonna be working here all week to pay off the damages I caused, aren’t I?”

“Would that be so bad, Will?”

She lifted her head. “How long are you here?”

“All week.”

“Then I guess it wouldn’t suck.”

“Good to know.”

Willow pushed all the money toward his big tip jar. “One hundred eighty-two dollars and ninety-three cents down, four hundred seventeen dollars and seven cents to go.”

Blake drained the last of his soda. “You still coming upstairs?”

“You promised me dinner, remember?” She offered him a cheeky smile. “I was going to tip you if the food and the service were impeccable, but since you’re more flush with cash than I am…no dice.” She hopped off the barstool and impatiently tugged on his sleeve. “Feed me.”

“Be my pleasure.”

***

Blake’s dick got hard as he watched Willow suck pasta from her fork. Hearing her throaty moan of satisfaction only increased the pressure behind his zipper. “Good?”

“Amazing. Do you whip up stuff like this for yourself all the time?”

“Pretty much. It’s easy to cook for one once you get used to it.”

“Mmm. I could get
very
used to this type of food.” Willow waved her butter knife. “Not that I know the first thing about cooking, even though my mother tried several times to teach me.”

“My mom made sure I knew my way around a kitchen before I moved out.”

“She’s gotta be proud you turned out to be such a great cook.”

Thinking of his mom caused Blake a pang. He missed his folks. “I don’t cook for her that often.”

“You save your expertise for your dates?”

Hmm. She was fishing for information. “The last woman I cooked for was impressed.”

Willow’s fingers tightened on her fork. “Yeah? What’d she do to show her gratitude?”

“She married my cousin.” He laughed at Willow’s astonished look. “Indy and I were just friends. I did a little carpentry work in her shop. I only asked her out because my cousin was in love with her and he needed a kick in the butt to admit how he felt to her.”

“Did it work?”

“Yep. They threw a gigantic wedding at the community center a month later. Invited the whole town and everyone remotely associated with the McKay and West families.”

“Lots of drunken revelry?”