Page 31 of Blame It On Midnight

Collins and Benton ignored Greg. Her eyes were only for Bent.

“Hey,” she said softly, a slow smile curving a mouth he wished he could forget. Every single man in her orbit was hyper-focused on Collins. And he wanted to throat punch every one of them.

“Hey, yourself.” He was gruff, but her smile deepened despite it. “I’ll take a whiskey, neat.”

Guess he was going to find out if coming to town was a bad idea after all.

Chapter Ten

She’d been warned that a regular Thursday at the Sundowner was busy. Especially in the summer. But when local country superstar Cal Bridgestone and his wife, Millie Sue, took to the stage, well, busy didn’t come close to describing the situation. Collins had never seen so many bodies packed into a room, regardless of the size. Not even Paris Fashion Week, with the throngs of paparazzi and fans, came close.

Security had long ago stopped letting folks in on account of fire and safety concerns, and the bar top was five to six people deep, one end to the other, for hours. It was hot. Loud. Smelled like beer and sweat and grease and by God, Collins loved every single minute of it.

And that was before Benton appeared, his dark eyes full of hesitation, or maybe doubt. She’d poured him a whiskey, told him it was on the house, and then he’d disappeared into the darkness, a body etched in shadow, there along the side of the stage.

He hadn’t moved from his spot the entire evening. It was his younger brother Ryland who’d ponied up to the bar and retrieved drinks for Benton and another man, she couldn’t quite make out.

Ryland was sweet. Introduced himself as the youngest Bridgestone right away, and she saw the young man that Benton had been. The boy was a looker and would make one hell of a man one day. But he wasn’t for her. There was no one here who came close to the man she had her eye on.

“You’ve got it bad, girl.” Jo edged up alongside her, then set down two containers of fresh-cut limes. She grabbed a couple of limes, shoved them onto two bottles of beer, and handed them over to a customer.

“Can’t help it,” she replied, smiling at a group of women waiting on their Jack & Cokes. She garnished each tumbler with lemons and exchanged the three glasses for some cash. It was nearing the end of the night, and last call had been announced.

“I see that.” Jo cracked a smile. “Though to be honest, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night.”

“Really? I’ve been so busy. Every time I look that way, he’s facing the stage.”

“Trust me,” Jo said, grabbing a bunch of empty jugs to be taken to the kitchen for cleaning. “That’s the only time he wasn’t looking.”

Pleased to hear he was just as aware of her as she was of him, Collins got busy cleaning up, while the bouncers started helping folks out of the Sundowner. Cabs and rides were arranged for those who didn’t think ahead, and by the time the last patron exited the building and the doors were locked, it was pushing three a.m.

With only the Bridgestones and a few friends left, Collins accepted a glass of wine from Jo and wandered over to the table where everyone had gathered. There was a large plate of nachos that had been nearly decimated, as well as the remnants of a large basket of chicken wings.

Benton sat on the other side, next to his brother Cal, and the two men were deep in conversation. The man she’d spied earlier, the one who’d come in with Bent, got up and offered his hand.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” Tall. Dark. Definitely a Bridgestone.

“Collins. And you are?”

“Cole.” He must have seen the questions in her eyes because he smiled and nodded. “Yep. A cousin from Texas.” He flashed a devilish grin. “You’re a Lafferty.”

“I am.”

He gave a low whistle. He was definitely a flirt. “You’re a hell of a lot cuter than your brother Kip.”

“Well, thanks for that. My arm is just as good as his, too.”

His smile deepened, and he chuckled. “I don’t doubt that.” He lifted his chin. “So why is a pretty girl like you slugging beer in a dive like this?”

“Hey,” Millie Sue said from her seat a few feet away. “I take offence at that.”

“Which part?” Cole turned her way. “My description of your newest bartender or my description of the bar.”

“Maybe you should just finish your drink and keep your opinions to yourself,” Benton said. His tone was good-natured, but his eyes were dark, and when they drifted her way, Collins’ stomach turned over so quickly, she leaned against the table so she wouldn’t fall.

Cole glanced back at his cousin, then winked at Collins. He leaned in real close. “He’s wired up something good.”

“Is he?” she murmured.

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