Page 16 of Drawn Blue Lines

“Añejo tequila in a stem glass. Room temp, only.”

I met her stare just in time to catch her raised eyebrow and quick glance to my right. When it went unacknowledged, she swallowed a few times and turned away. I sat in comfortable silence, refusing to blink. Even missing a second of this was too much.

It wasn’t long before the bartender returned with my drink and a brand-new attitude. With eyes downcast, she carefully placed it in front of me and disappeared.

Maybe she wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Bad day?” I pushed the tequila to the side, holding a perfect smile while nodding toward the discarded tie.

Brody didn’t bother to look up, still gripping the hell out of his mug. “Something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?” I urged, placing a hand across his forearm. My bold move captured his attention, snapping his eyes toward our connection.

Take the bait.

Whatever fire had lit in his eyes quickly extinguished. Turning away, he stared blankly across the bar before lifting the mug to his mouth. “Not particularly.”

Okay, time to change tactics. “Well, then, can I buy you a drink?”

“I own the bar, sweetheart.”

I’d learned patience. I was stellar at waiting my turn. But I’d also learned that leading a horse to water wouldn’t make him drink.

Unless you shoved his face in it.

“I get it.” Shifting toward him, I leaned my elbow onto the bar and dialed up the sarcasm to an eleven. “I’m just a stranger. What do I know, right? But you’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas. You obviously need to unload. If not me, there’s got to be someone you can talk to.”

Silence.

“Girlfriend?”

Silence.

I assumed that particular brand of quiet dismissal worked on bar blondie, but unfortunately for him, petulance was my specialty.

“Boyfriend?”

“The fuck? I’m not—” His widened eyes slowly narrowed as he took in the smirk plastered across my face. Rolling a heated gaze over me, he held up his palm. “Lady, if I need to unload, this does the job just fine.”

Stop thinking of that hand. Focus. Stick to the plan.

“I’m told family is always there for you if you need them,” I offered, clearing my throat.

The corners of Brody’s mouth curled up in a cold smile. “Hard to do when they’re dead.”

“All of them?”

He shrugged, and I held back a smile as his fingers swiped a cocktail napkin back and forth beside his beer. He wanted to react. How could he not? The tension in the air was so thick, it could’ve choked us both.

“Might as well be,” he bit out finally, sending the cocktail napkin skidding across the bar. “Family is just a bullshit lie anyway.”

“Well, look at that—something we can agree on.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Brody arched an eyebrow and gave me a slow appraisal. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“Sorry, force of habit in my line of work.”

He let out a low chuckle and took another drink, a dangerous mix of intrigue and irritation flickering in his eyes. “Since you obviously can’t take a hint, I’ll bite. What do you do?”

---