Come Closer, Cowboy Page 6

  And then of course Gunner had always jumped in. Even when she hadn’t needed the help, come to think of it... He’d spent more time behind the bar with her than sitting on a stool drinking.

  Leaving Heather to finish filling out paperwork, Mallory went to check on Gunner. She found him lying on his back tinkering with something under the metal beast. Elaine had just handed him a wrench and was eyeing his flat abs and bulging biceps.

  When she finally pulled her gaze away to look at Mallory, Elaine grinned. “How about you take over so I can show Heather what’s what?”

  Gunner brought his head up just as she nodded.

  “Oh, Elaine... I’ve decided to close on Sundays. Monday is still up in the air. I’ll be thinking about it and we’ll talk later.”

  “I’ll still need Wednesdays off. I hope that’s not a problem.”

  “Nope. I’ve already put Heather on the schedule.”

  “Thanks.” Elaine swooped down to pick up a piece of torn napkin stuck to a chair leg and then continued on.

  Mallory smiled. Lucky for her Sadie had recommended the woman. Eventually Elaine would be able to run the bar in Mallory’s absence.

  Aware Gunner was still watching her, she centered her attention on the bull. “So what do you think?”

  “You never closed the Renegade. Only for those two days when your pop died.”

  “It’s different here,” she said, glancing at him because he sounded so shocked. “Anyway, I was asking about Fanny.”

  “Different how?”

  “Um, just about everything. The type of customers. And counting the dance floor, this place is three times the size of the Renegade. I also have employees now, and paperwork. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even have a life.”

  She hadn’t meant to get carried away. Her voice had risen, though she didn’t think the other two heard. Gunner regarded her with an impassive expression that drove her nuts. She really hated that he could shut off emotions at will. She’d seen him do it a thousand times. Sometimes she could read him. But not often.

  “I have a question,” he said.

  She braced herself, nodded.

  “Did you call this bull Fanny?”

  At first she just stared at him, but the question was so unexpected she started laughing.

  “Fanny,” he murmured, shooting another look at the bull, and then turning back to Mallory. “Do I need to explain the facts of life to you?”

  That was another thing... Gunner could always make her laugh. Well, no, not always. Sometimes she wanted to rip him a new one. “Sure, go ahead. I’d like to hear your take.”

  Still lying on his back, he pushed away from the bull and glanced around. “You have a storage room or someplace private? I’d be happy to show you.”

  She let out a very unladylike snort. “You wish...”

  “You have no idea,” he said, and reached a hand out.

  Mallory stared at it, reluctant to touch him. Finally she gave in and he sprung to his feet...without any help from her.

  His palm was tough with calluses, his hand so much larger than hers, but he was careful not to squeeze too tight as he tugged her closer.

  Just as he’d been so careful with her that earth-shattering night that now felt like eons go.

  For as long as she lived she’d remember the hot, hungry look on his face when he’d bared her breasts. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected him to rush to the finish, maybe even get a little rough once the clothes came off. Probably because Gunner was such a physical guy.

  But he’d handled her so gently, as if she was something precious and fragile, it had brought tears to her eyes. Tears she’d refused to let him see, even as he learned every inch of her body with his sure tongue and light touch.

  No one had ever treated her like that. Since she’d been a kid Mallory had had a reputation for being tough. She was Coop Brandt’s daughter, people would say... No need to worry about her...she comes from strong stock...she can handle anything.

  And with a single touch, Gunner had turned it all into a lie.

  She stood perfectly still, fighting a rush of longing, the need for him so great she feared she would never be able to control it.

  Heat blazed in his darkened eyes. “I missed you,” he whispered.

  Too surprised to respond, Mallory swallowed. The words got stuck in her throat. She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then looked into his face.

  His faint smile faded. Releasing her, he plowed his hand through his damp hair.

  “Gunner...” Her voice wavered.

  He shrugged and turned to the bull. “It’s in decent shape. Just needs a good lube job.”

  Her mind went exactly where it shouldn’t and she coughed to cover a small whimper. “You have stuff on your shirt,” she said, pointing to his back. “Obviously I did a crappy job sweeping.”

  “What kind of stuff?” he asked, craning his neck to see.

  She dusted him off, the tempting feel of hard muscle and warm skin beneath the thin material making her stop abruptly. “You had to wear white?”

  “You know me,” Gunner said. “I have spares in the truck.” He glanced at her tightly clasped hands and finished brushing himself off. “Shouldn’t take me long to get—this thing ready for tonight.”

  “You mean Fanny?”

  He shook his head. “You have to think up a new name.”

  “That’s what Dexter called her. I thought it was weird at first but it’s starting to grow on me.”

  “Do you have any idea how many guys will try to explain why you shouldn’t call a bull Fanny?”

  Mallory laughed. But yeah, that would be super annoying. “Maybe we’ll start out with Fanny, then have a contest to see who comes up with the best name. Winner drinks free for two nights.”

  “You’re the boss,” he said, and started rifling through the toolbox.

  “You don’t have to fix it now. I need to read the manual and know what I’m doing before I let customers ride.”

  “I’m familiar with this model. I can handle that for you.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” she said slowly. “I do. But what happens after you leave? It’ll be just me.”

  His expression cooled, though she didn’t know why. She hadn’t meant anything. It was the truth.

  “Hey, Mallory,” Elaine called out. “I can’t find the salt for the margaritas.”

  “Oh, crap.” Mallory checked the time, afraid she’d have to make a dash to the Food Mart. Last night’s run on margaritas had almost wiped them out of key ingredients. “Be right there.”

  “Those frozen drinks are going to kill you,” Gunner said.

  “I know. I’m seriously thinking of—”

  “Telling them the blender is broken?”

  Mallory laughed.

  Gunner smiled.

  They’d been doing that a lot in the past few months. Finishing each other’s sentences. Exchanging private looks.

  Damn him for coming to Blackfoot Falls. She’d had three weeks to get used to being here on her own. Three weeks that felt more like three years whenever thoughts of him had sneaked in. But she’d been making headway. And now she would have to start all over again.

  * * *

  “HERE YOU GO, HANDSOME.” Heather bent forward to set a frosty mug of beer in front of Gunner, deliberately giving him a clear view of the goods under her snug top.

  Instead, he glanced at the mug he had yet to finish. “I didn’t order another one.”

  “No, silly. It’s from a secret admirer.”

  Business had started off with a bang the second Mallory had opened the door two hours ago. And yet she’d turned down his offer to help. So here he sat at a corner table, watching her and stewing. “Did Mallory send the
beer?”

  “Nope.” Heather flashed him a big smile. “It’s from me.”

  So much for the secret part. He pushed the mug back to her. “Thanks anyway.”

  “Really?” Her eyes widened. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “Not yet.”

  Judging by her baffled frown, he guessed she wasn’t used to being turned down. He could see why. Great body. Pretty blue eyes. The blond hair was fake, though. He wasn’t sure about the sizable rack. But he had no desire to find out.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “I know you and Mallory are just friends so I’m not doing anything wrong.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “She told me.” Heather batted her lashes, thick from too much makeup. “Said I could have you all to myself.”

  “Did she?” He took a slow sip of beer. In his rotten mood he had to be careful. It would be easy to get drunk.

  “Dammit, Heather.” Face flushed, Elaine came up behind Heather. In between taking orders she’d been manning the tap. “You have three tables waiting for you.”

  “Okay already, tell them I’ll be right there.”

  “Tell them yourself,” Elaine grumbled and turned to go.

  “Elaine?” Gunner had kept his gaze on Mallory but she hadn’t looked over once. “I can take over the tap.”

  “God bless you,” she said, using her shoulder to blot her damp face. “I’ll even split my tips with you.”

  He smiled, dropped some money on Heather’s tray and walked past her. Just as he slid behind the bar, Mallory looked up. “I told you I don’t need your help.”

  “Elaine says you do.” Putting his hands on her waist, he moved her over. Then took possession of the tap. She didn’t bite his head off for touching her so that was progress.

  “Fine. I do. What I don’t need is you flirting with the waitresses or anyone else while you’re working back here.”

  “Why?” He grinned. “You jealous?”

  She glared. “I don’t need a parade of women causing a bottleneck. Go back to your table and flirt all you want.”

  “I’m not flirting with anyone.”

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes at him, then smiled as she set down a glass of whiskey in front of a cowboy sitting at the bar. Lowering her voice, she said, “You can’t help yourself. I get it.”

  “Get what?” After moving aside two filled pitchers, he read Elaine’s order ticket and started on the next one. “We’re only friends, right? So why should you care?”

  “Right.” Mallory leaned down to scoop ice from the steel bin, and he got a brief glimpse of her black bra and creamy skin. Knowing he couldn’t touch was pure torture. “It’s just that—well, I was sort of rethinking things about us, but then I saw you hitting on Heather and—”

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. I was not—” He remembered where they were and how easily they could be overheard. He shut off the tap and crouched so he was eye level with her. “I was not flirting with Heather. She was hitting on me because you put her up to it.”

  “I most certainly did not.” She started to straighten but he caught her arm. “She asked if we were together and I said no. That’s all.”

  “So you didn’t tell her she could have me all to herself?”

  “Yeah, and that.” Mallory arched a brow. “But it didn’t mean anything.”

  The mocking tone of her voice got his attention. He’d mentioned something in that vein about them having had sex. Was she still pissed about that?

  Something she’d started to say finally registered. “Rethinking things?”

  “How long are you here for?”

  “A week. What things?”

  She slowly met his eyes. “About us,” she said and cleared her throat. “About whether or not we should include sex—”

  “What are you two doing down there?” Elaine loaded pitchers onto her tray in between giving them funny looks.

  “Trying to have a private conversation, if you don’t mind,” Gunner said irritably.

  “I don’t,” Elaine said with a laugh. “But you have a roomful of customers who might.”

  “Oh, God.” Mallory pulled her arm away and shot to her feet.

  People sitting at the bar either looked confused or were grinning.

  Gunner ignored them. “So you’re saying we can—”

  Mallory gasped. Head down, she muttered, “Stop talking. Right. Now.”

  He waited until she finished filling orders and then tugged her to the other end of the bar where no one was sitting. “Just to be clear...we’re talking about sex, right?”

  Her eyes blazed. Reddish-gold flames seemed to leap from the dark green depths. “Not if you keep embarrassing me we’re not.”

  “No one can hear us.”

  She swept a quick gaze to her right. “I have conditions.”

  “Okay.”

  “No one can know. Not Ben...not anyone,” she said, and he nodded, pissed that she thought she needed to tell him that. “And you can’t be sleeping with other women from around here. If that’s not going to work for you—”

  “Jesus.” Gunner frowned. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  She searched his face, looking for who knew what. Finally she said, “Fine. We have a deal.”

  Gunner just smiled, and kept his mouth shut. Damned if he’d give her a single reason to change her mind.

  7

  AT 1:00 A.M., dead on her feet, still stewing over whether she’d made the right decision to have sex with Gunner, Mallory handed the front door key to Elaine. “Would you mind?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” Looking wiped out herself, she stopped to give the last customer a nudge in the ribs. “Come on, Earl. Get your butt moving. I’m not telling you again.”

  The older man ignored her at first. But when he saw Elaine put a hand on her hip, he slid off the barstool and grumbled all the way to the door.

  Mallory went back to reloading the dishwasher. She’d sent Heather home an hour ago, the second the place had died down. Gunner was straightening tables and chairs and collecting dirty glasses. The man had never worked so hard to get laid in his life, she thought, biting back a smile.

  Of course she’d made the right decision. He was going to be in town a whole week. There was no way she’d be able to resist him. That’s why she’d left California in the first place. She hadn’t counted on him following her. But he had, and there was no point in depriving herself of a week of amazing sex.

  Sadly, she figured either way it was going to hurt like hell when he left.

  What probably wouldn’t happen was them having sex tonight. He looked as though he could go for another six hours. Mallory would be lucky if she didn’t keel over halfway home. To think she’d planned on doing more unpacking. Forget that.

  She closed the dishwasher and tried not to stare as he approached, looking so fine in old jeans and the blue T-shirt he’d traded for the white one.

  “I had that bull covered tighter than a nun’s—” Gunner cut himself short and glanced at Elaine coming toward them.

  “Go ahead,” Elaine said, grinning. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one.”

  He smiled and deposited a bunch of dirty glasses in the sink. “I even slapped on an out-of-commission sign. But everyone had to have a look.”

  “That surprises you?” Since the dishwasher was full, Mallory turned on the water and squirted detergent in the sink.

  “I’ve got this,” Gunner said quietly and urged her to step aside. “Go put your feet up and count your money.”

  Elaine sighed and batted her eyelashes at him. “I can forget my husband and kids’ names in a second flat. You just say the word, sugar.”

  “Uh-oh. Do I have to worry about your husband showing up wi
th a shotgun?” Mallory teased, so tired it almost hurt to smile. But she didn’t miss Elaine’s mischievous little grin. “Why don’t you take off? I’ll be out of here soon, myself.”

  Elaine started to argue. But one look at Gunner and she bid them good-night and left.

  Mallory hadn’t seen his expression, but she could imagine the look that had sent the woman scurrying. “I think I’ll take the cash home with me and count it there. I’m so exhausted if I sit down I might not get back up again.”

  “How far is your place from here?”

  “Just a few blocks. I walked.”

  His dark brows drew together in a frown. He pulled the stop to drain the sudsy water and started rinsing the glasses. “My truck is parked close. I’ll drive you.”

  “It’s safe. I’m not the least bit worried.”

  “You should be,” he said, turning to look at her. “I’m guessing the crime rate is next to nothing, but tourism has picked up. And don’t forget the area is attracting more Hollywood people.”

  “Yep, can’t trust those Californians,” she said and they both smiled.

  “I’m just saying...doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

  She finished emptying the register and stuffed the cash in a worn black leather pouch that had been her father’s. A wave of nostalgia swept over her. The Renegade had been her home for more than half her life. She’d hated math in school but learned to add, subtract and multiply by helping with the bank deposits and ordering booze.

  “Mallory?”

  She looked up and saw that the glasses were dry, and so were his hands. How long had she been staring at the pouch? “I figure I’ll come in early tomorrow and sweep,” she said, busying herself with organizing the credit card receipts.

  “Thinking about the Renegade?”

  She shrugged, keeping her eyes lowered. “And my dad, the gang... I wonder how long it took for Moose and Jerry to find a new dive.”

  “They’re probably still sitting in some liquor store parking lot drinking beer and arguing over it.”