in my life sometime. Iâm not talking just ski-slope opera drama, either. We face a wider variety of stupidity.â
Her smile was slow and sexy. âYouâre not scaring me off.â
âI wasnât trying to. So why are you working the bar?â
âMattâs running late.â
âMatt?â
âRemember Sara?â
âThe sister worried about you stealing another Jeep?â
âThatâs the one. Mattâs her husband. Heâs the bartender tonight, Iâm just filling in until he gets here.â
âYou have a big family. I met your aunt Debbie.â
âAh.â She looked him over. âI see she let you go without sinking her teeth into you. She must be losing her touch.â
âMaybe I wasnât interested.â
She shrugged, but he would have sworn that his answer pleased her. Still, she backed up, spread out her white apron and bowed. âWhat can I get you tonight?â
If she only knew. âWhatcha got?â
âA little of everything. Hot, cold, spicy, sweetâ¦name your poison.â
âHmm.â He found himself smiling, feeling totally alive. And incredibly, arousingly aware. âHow about something slow, with a kick.â
Her eyes darkened just a little. âAre we still talking drinks?â
âThat, too.â
A variety of emotions crossed her face. Excitement. Thrill. Nerves. The combination was wickedly stimulating.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth while she dragged her lower lip between her teeth. Heâd bet his last buck she was thinking about their kiss.
Good. That made two of them.
âSomething slow with a kickâ¦â She turned away to survey all the possibilities.
He snagged her wrist, waiting until she looked at him. Her hand was still icy, but now her lips were chattering, too. Heâd been outside all day too many times to miss the signs. She was badly chilled.
âNo,â she said, and pulled free.
âI didnât say anything.â
âYou were going to tell me to go get warm, and youâll help out while I do.â
âItâs not a bad plan.â
âExceptâ¦â
âYouâre not a woman who likes needing help?â
âNo. But thank you,â she added softly. âItâs sweet. Youâre sweet.â
âWhat Iâm thinking about is quite probably the furthest thing from sweet youâve ever seen. Do you want to know what Iâm thinking?â
She stared at him, shivered hard. âYes.â
He had to laugh. No woman heâd ever known would have said yes. âIâm thinking of all the ways I can warm you up.â He leaned forward. âWithââ
She put a finger to his lips. âYouâre warming me up already. You have a way of looking at me, Logan White.â
âDo I?â
âLike you want to gobble me up.â
âDoes that frighten you?â
âNothing frightens me.â
Someone down the bar gestured for a refill, and she smiled her apology and moved toward them. A lanky guy with a head of dark curls made his way behind the bar and gave her a big bear hug with a smacking kiss right on the lips.
Matt, Logan assumed.
Lily stripped out of her apron and a moment later came to Loganâs side with two whiskey shots. She sat down next to him, picked up her glass and lifted it in a toast. âTo warmth on a snowy winterâs eve.â
He lifted his glass, too, and touched it to hers. âTo being warm together on a winterâs eve.â
Her lips curved. âEven better.â
He agreed. And though he rarely drank anything harder than a beer, he took the shot.
She did the same, then swiped her mouth with her arm and smiled. âThat should help.â
âYeah, so wouldââ
âLily Rose.â A woman who looked remarkably like Lily came up to them. She had Lilyâs brown, bouncy long curls, Lilyâs whiskey eyes, though not as happy, and
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