Page 115 of Mountain Men Heroes
“Besides,” he tapped the side of his nose. “Come morning I would sniff out the troublemakers and they know it.”
Hmm. Good to know. “Once a cop always a cop, huh?”
He nodded in agreement.
“The inner-city crime rate is so high we can’t leave the windows open on the fire escapes anymore.”
“Sounds like you could use a relocation to a safer place.”
He started turning chairs over for the cleaning crew and picking up random bottles, plastic plates, and trash from the merrymaking.
“How long were you a cop?”
“Fifteen years.”
She wrestled back a yawn as a couple of faint chimes rang out to signal the early or late hour depending on perspective. Since her day had started out with a red-eye from Houston, it was one hell of a long day either way.
Damon came up beside her and leaned against the bar, his sleeves rolled to reveal thick forearms and the hint of a tattoo peeking out from the cuff on his right arm. Another from the V collar of his shirt.
“You did good tonight. I would have drowned without your help and the mob would have left me on the floor while sloshing back the booze.”
She looked him up and down. “I doubt that, but glad I could help.”
Her body grew warm standing this close, and her lips pulsed with a dull echo from the feel of his pressed against them. She busied herself with rinsing the last of the shot glass and then set to work on storing the blender.
“Don’t let these small-town folks fool you. They’re wily and will crush you in a heartbeat on cold winter nights like these.”
No doubt. “Cowboys down in Texas can get rowdy but your boys can hold their own.” Her gaze drifted off over the bar. Cowboys sat firmly on the list of topics she rather not talk about though.
“That surprise you about us mountain men?” Damon teased.
Her nose wrinkled up at her own mention of cowboys and caused her glasses to slip.
“Ivy.” Strands of hair slipped from her ponytail after the long night and they brushed against her cheeks, hiding her eyes from his view. He moved the tips of his fingers along the fringes of those loose tendrils. Such tenderness came unexpected and made her take a gulp of air.
He pressed a finger under her chin until she could look into his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Just have a bad taste in my mouth from a past boyfriend. Cowboy and doctor. The ego on him was suffocating.”
“Hmm,” Damon answered not really saying anything.
What was it about him that drew her into his orbit? She was genuinely puzzled and couldn’t understand why. The second their gazes locked her guard slipped a fraction.
“But in answer to your question, nah. Rowdy and Texas go hand in hand, too, like tequila, sandy beaches, and bad decisions,” she offered, and the grimace that crossed his face said he appreciated the analogy.
He moved away storing more bottles and the glassware she washed and dried. From the corner of her eye she appreciated all those sculpted muscles, the way he handled himself with relaxed confidence. Those strong hands never faltering as they wrapped around bottlenecks and fragile glass.
Strong yet gentle.
Would he be the same with her?
How could she want him so quickly after meeting him? Sure her sister talked about him nonstop so she felt like she knew him, but still. Was wanting her sister’s brother-in-law smart?
Pine filled her nostrils, and in her fantasy, Damon faded to a version of himself naked, lowering his hard body over hers on the top of the bar. In her mind the heat of his body warmed hers, the feel of his thighs pressing her apart and his shaft long and thick against her wet core drove her mad with lust.
She sighed heavily.
Horny. That’s all this was. She just needed to let loose a little and relax.