Page 32 of The Fixer

Dixie looked him up and down. “About time you got here.”

“I’m late? Thought I was early. Hey, I’m surprised you didn’t hear me pull up and listen in on my conversation with—” His eyes caught on dark hair, and a shiver of disappointment ran through him. None other than Joy Holiday sat at the bar, hunched over her damn notebook. Why couldn’t the woman park her skinny ass in someone else’s bar? Fuck! Just when he thought he could escape at least one of the reasons for his bad day …

Dixie patted his chest. “She’s on your side of the bar.”

Great. One big reason for his bad day had followed him and was on the side he was responsible for. Wait. Why was the side where she sathis? Couldn’t he pick a different section? He was the owner’s brother!Baby brother.And how did Dixie know what he’d been thinking?

He glanced over at his brother Reece, who was engaged in an intense conversation with a fellow search and rescue volunteer and the county’s deputy sheriff, Shane O’Brien. They were probably going over some disaster where a dumbass flatlander had hiked a mountain without water, cold weather gear, or a GPS tracker. In other words, without a clue.

“Excuse me. Could you—oh! It’s you.” Joy Holiday was holding an empty wineglass, staring straight at him.

He ambled the few steps toward her. “Sure, miss. What are we drinking”—he tipped his wrist to check the time—“this afternoon?” Kinda early to hit the wine bottle, wasn’t it? Although if he’d had his druthers, he’d be bending his elbow too. But he wouldn’t be slugging down wine.

She dropped her head like she was preparing to charge him. So much for making nice with the customers. “Sauvignon blanc,please.” As she handed him her glass, she glanced over both shoulders. “You and I need to talk.”

Really? Hadn’t they justtalkeda few hours ago? Oh, wait. She was going to fire his ass before he even got started, wasn’t she? Well, at least he hadn’t spent hours and hours working up the estimates. Good riddance. He hadn’t been excited about working with the unappreciative, self-centered—

“It’s about a guy named …” She mouthed, “Carl Weatherly.” She followed this up by forming twoCs with her hands.

His back went ramrod straight. “Sauvignon blanc and conversation coming right up.” He snatched the wine bottle out of the under-bar fridge and filled it to the rim.

“Hi, Charlie.” Germaine slid onto a barstool two down from Joy. In his peripheral vision, Joy’s lips pressed into a hard line and her eyes narrowed.

Ah, shit. Just shoot me now.

“Uh, Germaine, why don’t you slide on down by Deputy Shane? I heard him talking about you earlier.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

When had he turned into such a bald-faced liar? Women made him do these things. Yeah, that was it.

Germaine fluffed her red curls. “Really?” She stuck her nose in the air and smirked at Joy.

Joy opened her mouth—she was sure to spew something about Germaine ruining her fancy shoe—and he slid her wineglass under her nose, sloshing a little over the side for having filled it so full.

Joy’s golden eyes widened. “You gave me a double. I didn’t ask for a double.”

“On the house. Now what did you want to tell me?”

“Hi, Charlie!”

Fuck!He barely held back an eye-roll when Lauren sashayed over.

Joy Holiday raised her glassandher eyebrows. “Looks like your fan club’s here. I’ll catch you later when your hands aren’t so … full.”

He barely gave Lauren a glance, acknowledging her with an offhanded chin lift instead. To Joy, he said, “What’s the news with the water at the Majestic?”

Joy took a large sip of wine and let her gaze travel over the ceiling. “Well—”

“They haven’t got it turned back on yet. It’s a real mess.” Dixie stood beside him, tsking, and he nearly jumped out of his boots. “Would you fetch me three IPAs and a margarita rocks, handsome?” She batted her mascara-crusted lashes.

“Coming right up,” he grumbled. When he looked over at Reece, his brother was no longer talking to Shane. Instead, he was hustling—the place was filling up—and Shane was pulling away from Germaine, who was leaning farther into his private bubble. Shane looked up and shot Charlie daggers.

Oops!He’d apologize to the deputy later.

Before long, Neve arrived, and she was joined by Micky and his live-in girlfriend, Amy. Consequently, Charlie only made it back to Joy long enough to refill her glass and deliver a Swiss burger and fries. He spared a moment to watch the woman attack her food and was caught by surprise when an image of Joy straddling him—in nothing but smooth olive skin—flared in his brain. The erotic vision sparked inconvenient movement south of his belt, and he tore his eyes away from her.

Shit!What wasthatabout? He didn’t evenlikeher.

The next time he dared steal a glance, her nose was back in her notebook, her busy hand scrawling across the smooth paper. The place was hopping, but he was in a momentary lull, so he parked himself across the bar from her.

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