Eagle's Refuge (2 page)

No thanks. She wasn’t about to fall into that trap again.

But still she watched, unable to stop herself.

She went still as the harsh afternoon sunlight caught his nearly shoulder length black hair. His Mexican heritage was evidence in the tones of his skin. A dark blue tee shirt molded to a chest that was, in a word, yummilicious and the faded jeans he wore hugged his hips to perfection. A silly, sex-starved woman might want to trail her fingertips over the hard mounds of his chest to test the resilience of his flesh.

Oh wait!

She was a sex-starved woman!

Whoa, Nelly!

Callie cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look anywhere but at him as he approached the door of The Gilded Lily . Behaving like a giddy teenager wasn’t her idea of class so, with effort, she reined in those little hormones that were tap dancing down her spine and doing cartwheels in her belly.

Uh-uh. Ignoring the hormones here.

Besides, his face probably wouldn’t match up to all that male bodily perfection.

Wasn’t remotely possible.

Then he stepped in the door, filled up her space with his size and presence and removed the battered straw cowboy hat from his head. He nodded her way.

“Howdy, ma’am.”

Holy guacamole!

His face was strikingly handsome, from the dark, heavily lashed eyes to his proud nose and slashing, sharp cheekbones. The stranger’s slight smile came from beautifully sculpted, infinitely kissable lips.

Sexual attraction reared its head and shouted Olé.

“Hey,” she managed. “Welcome.”

He sent his gaze around the flower-filled room before focusing like a laser on her.

“Nice place you have here. Congrats on your new business.”

“Thanks.”

Though he clutched his hat in one big bronze hand, he reached down and lifted a brightly decorated pot of violets and frowned, giving them a sniff. When he replaced them on the table, he looked up with a shockingly white smile. “Drove by here several times and saw the grand opening sign out front. Kept meaning to stop in.”

Callie ran suddenly sweaty palms over the sides of her jeans and managed to un-stick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. She smiled and stepped from around the counter and stuck out her hand. “I’m Callista Hill.”

His hand practically swallowed hers as he squeezed gently. “Mac Moreno.”

For the sake of her sanity and this uber-horny reaction she was having to the man, she stepped back. “What can I do for you, Mac?”

Mac looked around the room again and zeroed in on the small refrigerated room that held a large assortment of cut flowers and arrangements. “I’m looking for something pretty and bright.”

“Okay then, let’s go look.” She walked past him, feeling the heat of his gaze on her back, and knew the chill that swept her didn’t come from the tiny room she’d stepped into. He was most definitely checking her out. Mac followed her inside and despite the cold his body heat reached out like a lusty caress.

Callie was in big trouble here.

Quickly she pointed out an assortment of long-stemmed beauties and, with his agreement, gathered up a dozen or so bright flowers.

“Yeah, those will do,” he murmured before backing out of the area, leaving her to follow.

“Good selection, Mac.” Callie reached to a shelf behind the counter and took down a long, white floral box. “Your wife will love these.”

Damn! Could she be any more obvious?

Feeling heat steal over her cheeks, she cursed the fair skin that came with all her natural blondeness and hoped he wouldn’t notice. She turned to find him grinning at her. Rogue!

“I’m not married. Don’t even have a lady at the moment,” he said. Then his smile faded a little, his voice went soft. “A box won’t be necessary. The flowers are for my mom.”

He was buying flowers for his mother.

Something about that made her heart melt and she wondered for a fleeting moment if there might be far more to Mac Moreno than panty-drenching good looks.

“Oh. Um. Okay. Paper?”

“That’ll work.”

Biting her lower lip, she totaled up the purchase and watched him pull a twenty from his wallet. Then she wrapped the fresh flowers in a couple of large sheets of waxy green paper.

Mac took them and replaced the cowboy hat on his head. “Thanks, Callista.”

“Callie,” she managed. “My friends call me Callie.”

He smiled again. “Nice to meet you, Callie, and good luck with the new business.

Morgan’s Creek is a small town but the people are friendly. I hope you’ll like living here.”

“I’m sure I will. Thanks.”

Mac headed toward the door but then he stopped, the flowers clutched in his fist, and walked back to her. He dug in his back pocket and withdrew a tan-colored business card. “I own a honky-tonk here in town. Hell’s Bells isn’t fancy but it’s about the only place around where you can listen to music and have a beer or two with friends. We

have a cover charge to walk in the door but if you give this to the older fella at the door, you can get in free.”

Callie took the card and grinned. “Someone just told me about this place. She said it was a good spot to hang out.”

“I like to think so. Why don’t you come by one night soon and I’ll buy you a welcome-to-town beer?”

Looking into his eyes, she recognized the interest swimming there. Her heart thumped but she smiled and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Mac. Thanks.”

Mr. Long, Lean and Yummy had no sooner gotten into his truck when Ashley rushed up from behind and grabbed her. “Oh my God! Is that Mac Moreno?”

“The very same. He came in to buy flowers for his mom. It must be her birthday or something.”

Ash walked around her to lean her elbows on the counter. She frowned behind the lenses of her square-framed glasses. “Uh-uh. She’s dead. She’s been gone for a long time.”

That left only one reason for the flowers. He was taking them to the local cemetery.

Callie swallowed hard, so moved and touched she could barely speak. “Oh my. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Ashley sighed too then looked at her. “Mac Moreno is the hottest damn man alive. I swear.”

Callie watched the truck pull out onto Main and drive away. She eyed the card before tucking it into her back pocket. “I’m not about to argue with you about that, my friend. Hot doesn’t begin to cover it.”

Mac leaned back in his chair and propped his booted feet on the scarred surface of the desk in his office, ignoring the vibrations of music pounding against the walls and the muted sounds of the crowd just outside. Typical Friday night at Hell’s Bells and he was well used to the noise and basic insanity. It had been a busier than busy day with work at the ranch beginning early accompanied by the multitude of little things here at the club. Already he’d booked an up-and-coming country band to play the club next month, overseen the unloading of cases of whiskey, hired a couple of new waitresses and had the giant ice machine repaired.

Still he was restless.

Sleep had been hard to come by for the past weeks. He figured it was one of those deals where a guy just knew his life was about to change. He’d tried to fight the restlessness with hard work but hell, he was still wound tighter than a spring.

A knock sounded on his door.

“Come in.”

Barry Evans, one of his bartenders, stuck his head inside. “Hey, Mac, thought you’d want to know the Miller brothers just showed up.”

“Hell.” Mac scrubbed his hands over his face. “Those little pricks are nothin’ but trouble. Keep an eye on them until I get out there.”

Just what he needed.

The young brothers were a handful during sober moments but give them a drink or two and trouble was sure to follow. He was inching closer to telling the troublemakers to get out and stay out. In all these many years, he’d never barred anyone from Hell’s Bells but there was a first time for everything. He wasn’t going to put up with a minute more of their shit.

Knowing he had to get out there and head off disaster, he stood and stretched out the kinks in his tired body before making his way to the door. A blast of sound hit him the minute he stepped into the hallway and entered the main room of the club. Walking up to the crowded bar and leaning there for a minute, he took in his little kingdom, feeling that familiar sense of pride in his accomplishment. It was a nice place. His mom might have frowned at his choice of a profession, but inevitably she would be proud that he’d made the venture work. Mac could count on one hand the number of times he had truly disappointed Elena Moreno. She adored him and he returned the emotion in spades until the day cancer had taken her.

While couples two-stepped on the crowded dance floor, he let his mind wander to the years they’d struggled to beat the disease that had killed her. Very little money and a paltry insurance policy hadn’t gone far. Bitterness burned through him at the thought of Joe Morgan living out there in his big ranch house having all the money in the world yet not possessing enough kindness in his heart to help when things were so grim.

Hospice had been there at the end. To Mac they were angels and a year didn’t go by that he didn’t send money to the local hospice folks. He would never forget their kindness during his mom’s final days. So as he watched couples dancing and people talking and laughing, he thought of her and missed her.

“Hey, boss, looks like you could use one of these.” Mac smiled at Shelly, one of his waitresses, who’d sidled up to hand him a long-necked bottle of beer. He nodded his thanks and took a drink.

She leaned close to whisper in his ear. “You know that new woman who opened the flower shop? The one you mentioned the other day?”

Mac gave her a look and caught the mischievous glint in her brown eyes. She’d caught his attention. He was listening. “Yeah?”

Shelly cocked her head and flashed him a grin. “She’s here.”

He squinted and sent his gaze around the room. Damn, it was crowded tonight.

“Where?”

“Table five. Over near the bandstand.”

“That your table?” Try as he might, the crowd was too big and she was on the other side of the room.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting on her and Ashley.”

Mac grinned and kissed her soundly on the lips. Shelly laughed and swatted at him.

“I don’t need kisses from you, boss man. I could use a raise though.”

“No raise.” Mac laughed. “Well, maybe. Let’s see how this thing goes.”

“Gotta admit, I’m really curious. We’ve had new ladies move to town before but this is the first time you’ve mentioned one of them. She’s really pretty, Mac.” Shelly lifted her reddish brows and gave him a slow up-and-down before wrinkling her freckled nose. “She might not be interested in an old honky-tonker like you.”

“Wanna bet? I’m gonna lay on some charm. Don’t laugh. I can be charming.”

When Shelly quit giggling, he turned serious. “Fix me a glass of whatever she’s drinking.”

“One margarita coming right up, boss.”

Mac wasn’t one to talk to others about his personal life but after meeting Callie that day in the flower shop, he knew he wanted to get to know her better. He’d sought out Shelly and asked her to alert him if she ever came through the door. What was said between the two of them would remain private. After all, Mac had given Shelly away at her wedding to Parker Jones no more than three months earlier. They were friends.

When he made his way around the perimeter of the dance floor and got a look at Callista Hill, he figured he might just owe Shelly that raise after all.

Mac’s mouth went dry.

Callie sat nursing her drink, tapping the toes of her dark red cowboy boots in time to the music. A silky-looking white top molded gently against her gorgeous full breasts and damn if his mouth didn’t dry up some more. In the old days, he might have considered a classy woman like her out of his reach. No longer. If he’d learned nothing

else in his thirty-four years, he knew that a man had to reach out and grab what he wanted before it was too late. The neon lights from a beer sign hanging on the wall behind her threw blue lights over her pale hair. Yep, he’d always had a thing for sexy blondes and seeing her again reminded him of the first time he’d clapped eyes on her that day in The Gilded Lily.

He hadn’t been able to shake the image of her since then.

As he stood there checking her out like a horny teenager she looked up. Her big green eyes widened and then her smile followed suit. She waved.

Mac didn’t need a clearer invitation. He walked up and lifted the margarita a bit before placing it in front of her. “Looks like you need a fresh drink.”

“Hi, Mac. Yeah, I do, thanks. Please have a seat.” She frowned a little. “Unless you are working?”

Mac pulled out the chair next to her and sat. “I’m the boss, remember? No reason I can’t stop for a few minutes to talk with a pretty lady. Glad you finally stopped in.”

She gathered a bit of salt from the rim of her glass and put it in her mouth.

Helplessly, Mac took in the action and felt his cock tighten. Jeez. Such a simple thing and he was ready to jump her sweet bones. “You know what they say about all work and no play,” she said, smiling. “Ashley finally convinced me to come. I used the little card you gave me. Thanks.”

“Where is Ash?” He looked across the dance floor. “Ah, there she is.” She was dancing with Jase Grant, a tall, lanky cowboy who worked at the local feed store.

Callie laughed. “Yeah, she’s had her eye on that guy for a while now. I think she’s in heaven. Beginning to think I’m gonna be a third wheel tonight.”

“Not if I’m around you won’t.”

She arched a brow and sent him a flirty little grin that turned his insides to mush.

“Is that right, cowboy?”

“How about a dance? I pretty much have two left feet but I’m game if you are.”

“I’d love to.”

Mac settled his hand on the small of her back. She wasn’t a tall woman but more on the petite side of things. Small. Curvy. He pulled her against his body, knowing in that instant that he wanted to lick every inch of her naked body. Mac sucked in a breath when her breasts settled softly against the front of his shirt and his cock went tight and hard. He spoke nothing but the bald truth when he’d said he wasn’t much of a dancer but he could fake it / if he could hold Callie against him like this.