“What a chore,” she teased. She’d have to convince Grady to let her in on the early tasting crew, as part owner of the hippest microbrew in the region.
“Didn’t exactly have to twist my arm.” He grinned again. Even his smile was irresistible, slow to form as if carefully considered, and he didn’t care to focus on anything but her. A slight bend in his nose from an old injury and that unruly cowlick at his hairline told of a daring side that sent a thrill shuddering under her skin. “You hungry tonight?”
Yes. Starving. Be my rebound?“Um, yeah. That smoked salmon salad sounds amazing.”
“Good choice.”
“Hey, you mind if I get some work done?” She pulled her laptop from her purse and held it up.
“Make yourself at home. Please.” He backed up a step and turned, gliding to the computer to punch in her order. The man even moved beautifully, as if his hips, his core held all the power, every movement deliberate but graceful.
She set out her laptop and pulled up the draft of her next blog post. The text was nearly finished, but the photos were tough. Grime. Muck. Dust. Too bad she didn’t think to snap one of the dead raccoon. Maybe she’d add a funny cartoon to offset the bleakness of the scene.
As she neared the bottom half of the beer, having put mental blinders on to avoid watching the sexy bartender at workallnight, she made acceptable progress by the time her food arrived. Toasted walnuts and goat cheese dotted the top of the spring greens and smoked salmon, finely chopped red and yellow tomatoes made the meal a work of art in the white square bowl.
Flying over the bar, a rolled-up t-shirt rocketed toward the bartender. Seemingly unaware, he calmly tucked his water under the register and snatched the package from the air in an easy movement. In one fluid motion, he tucked it under his arm. Another came hurtling toward him from the server that had tossed the last, and he caught it just as effortlessly.
“Your spiral’s coming along Tara.” He grinned at the server, then passed the shirts across the bar to the young couple that had just paid their tab.
Huh. Something familiar about that. He turned and headed into the kitchen. The back of his t-shirt caught her eye. In block lettering, HALSETH crossed the top, extending shoulder to shoulder.
Oh shit,she nearly choked on the salmon, catching it in her throat before she completely embarrassed herself. Haircut, beard shaved, and totally out of context, but he was a regular in her fantasy life. No wonder she’d been so instantly interested. How had she missed it before? Trace was right, she absolutely needed a rebound.
He reappeared a moment later, carrying a plate of burgers in each hand. After he delivered the meal, he returned to check on her. “How’s the salad?”
Biting her cheek to mask her blushing grin, she endeavored to not sound like a number-one-foam-finger swinging, face-painted fanatic when she said, “You’re Finn Halseth.” Not that she wasn’t a huge fan, but, wow, how would she have guessed her favorite athlete would be serving her drinks in her minuscule hometown?
“That’s me.” He looked at her funny, like he wasn’t sure what she was getting at. Or dreading what she knew. More of a wary smile than the flirty grin he’d granted her with all night.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to rat you out if it’s secret or anything. I’m a huge fan. I, uh, I just moved up from San Francisco.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Me too. A few months ago.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the bar in front of her, relaxing back into the slow smile that sizzled right down to her toes. “You don’t know how many people begin that sentence with some graphic description of my knee bending the wrong direction last February.”
She winced. “Yeah, that didn’t look comfortable. That must suck. You played some great football for the Fire for, what, five, six years? And people remember you for the injury? At least they’re remembering that last play. Pretty epic way to retire.”
Still smiling, he nodded. “Yeah, I suppose so. Got my super bowl ring on crutches. Not sure yet that it was worth it, but that was a hell of a game.”
From the kitchen, a woman with similar chocolate eyes, sporting a threatening glare for Finn, cleared her throat. “I said, order up.”
Feigning an apologetic wince, he backed up a few steps and turned to grab the plates from the woman that had to be his sister. As he worked the busy pub, Haley forced herself to buckle down and finish the post. She liked to be consistent, treating it like a scheduled program rather than a hobby. It helped build a steady following. And, well, it was her sole source of occupational income.
He appeared a few moments later to return her credit card. His mouth opened and closed like he was about to say something, but he held his breath, and then said. “Have a good night.”
That’sthebesthecould come up with? Not long ago, it didn’t take more than a wink and he had a date. He glanced down at the slip she’d signed in a casual, readable script.Haley Salsborough. “Drive safe, Haley,” he pathetically added.
Her lopsided grin still lingered as she rose from the stool and slung her purse over her shoulder. “’Night,” she whispered, barely audible. The pretty sundress she wore swung with each step. Damn, she was curvy in all the right places. He held his breath, arms folded over his chest as he watched her walk out the door. Should have asked her out.
Dammit, no. Trace was right. He wasn’t in any condition to pursue a relationship.
The very concept sounded terrible right now. He was just getting his shit together. What did he have to offer a woman, when he couldn’t even handle himself? Even the little experiment getting back together with Trace, who knew him well, or at least, she used to, had gone terribly.
Appearing in the kitchen doorway, Zoe raised a taunting eyebrow at him. “Hey, bro,” she said, grinning mischievously.
“Zoe.” He nodded, then moved to take another order.
She was still standing there when he turned around. “I think you were flirting.”
“I’m allowed to flirt with a beautiful woman now and again. I’m single. Besides, she’s from San Francisco and a fan. I don’t exactly have many of those anymore.”
