Page 9 of Just One More Mistletoe

“Two Coronas.”

Stevie nodded, then turned toward a high bar table. “Brownie,” Jake, the bartender, called to a man seated there. “Give Max his table, okay?”

“What?” Brandy asked.

Max shrugged. “I have a standing seat in the corner.” He gestured toward a high table with two barstools where an older man was clearing out.

“He doesn’t have to give up his seat for us,” Brandy said.

“He definitely does. If they don’t throw him out of here, he drinks too much. He’s too lazy to stand on his feet all night. This way he’ll go home and sleep it off.” Max caressed her face with his knuckles. “Trust me. I’ve been through this routine before.”

“You’ve kicked him out for his own good? Or kicked him out to make room for you and another woman?” She bit the inside of her cheek, hating herself for asking but needing the answer just the same.

“There are no other women.”

Brandy liked the answer, but couldn’t help wondering if he was telling her what he thought she wanted to hear. Seconds later, he dispelled her concerns by cupping her cheeks in his palms and lowering his lips for a seductive, heated kiss. One that left her gasping for air, unable to think, and the subject of intense speculation, she realized, as he lifted his head.

The stares of onlookers turned into a slow round of applause and more than one whistle of approval.

Embarrassed, she lowered herself onto the high stool with shaking knees, just as Stevie arrived with their drinks.

“You sure do know how to make an entrance. I didn’t know you were his girl,” Stevie said to Brandy.

“His girl?” Brandy was mortified but Stevie just laughed.

“You’ve both been here and never run into each other,” Stevie said. “I supposed that’s because the bar is always packed solid. But I’ve worked here for years and he’s never brought a woman before. If you can think of another label, let me know.” Winking, Stevie placed the bottles on the table.

“See? Proof to back up my claim.” Max sounded smug and Brandy was happy.

Stevie held her tray against her black shirt. “Can I get you two something to eat? The burgers are the best.”

Max raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to choose.

“A burger sounds great,” she said.

“Two,” he said and Stevie walked off to put in their order.

Max dragged the empty stool close to hers and swung himself into it.

She nodded. “So you’ve got your own table. Do you call this place home?” Brandy liked the rustic, comfortable decor. The place emitted warmth and a down-home atmosphere that welcomed its customers.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I have an apartment upstairs… if you’d like to see it.”

“Really.” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand, her heart beating out a rapid crescendo in her chest. They’d just met tonight but she’d never felt so much so fast. “And if I don’t?” she asked softly.

Max leaned closer. “If you don’t, we eat dinner and I drive you to wherever you live.”

“And if I would like to see your place?”

“Then tonight you stay with me.”

His warm breath tickled her cheek and she realized she could easily fall hard for this man. All six feet of him put her at a petite disadvantage, yet for a woman who prided herself on her independence, she had to admit she liked his overpowering air and the heady way he made her feel.

Enough to consider spending the night?

“Your burgers have arrived.” Stevie interrupted the electric current of awareness running between them. She set the plates on the table. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” they said at the same time.

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