Fatal Secrets - Desiree Holt Page 0,4
where it doesn’t belong.”
Zoe was actually beginning to like the rough sound of that voice. Maybe she was losing her mind or something.
“Yeah?” Red shook his head. “Not happening. First rule of bartending. Never mind your own business. We’re sort of like shrinks.”
The stranger downed a heavy swallow of his drink. “And just as annoying,” he growled.
Zoe took a sip of her own drink. “I think I’ll stay out of this one.”
“No. Please.” The stranger slid a look at her. “Stick your nose in. Everyone else does.”
“I, uh, try not to do that.” She busied herself with her drink and ended up taking a bigger swallow than she intended. She ended up coughing and blinking back the sting of tears. Great. Way to impress people.
Wait! Who was she trying to impress? The bartender? The grouch?
“Not much of a drinker?” The gravelly voice poked at her.
She frowned. “Are you always this pleasant?”
He actually snorted a laugh. “This is me on one of my good days.”
Zoe smothered a grin. She had the feeling when the grouch wasn’t so bent out of shape, he had a great sense of humor and might actually be fun to be around. He certainly had the sexy thing down pat, with his toned body and facial scruff. When he turned to look at her, she saw his eyes were almost the color of dark coffee. Damn. If this situation was different, she could get lost in those eyes. But it wasn’t, and she needed to get a grip on herself. It had to be the stress of researching this book that was doing this to her. But she did wonder what his story was.
She drained the last of her drink and was thinking about settling her tab and getting back on the road when Red switched out her empty glass for a full one.
“Wait. I didn’t order this.”
He inclined his head toward the man next to her.
“This one’s on the grouch as well. He’s not a very giving person so I‘d thank him and drink up.”
Zoe’s eyebrows lifted. Mr. Unpleasant bought her a drink?
She lifted her glass to toast him. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Red here keeps telling me I need to be nicer. Consider this my good deed for the year.”
“Oh. Well, uh, thank you.” She took a sip from her glass and set it back down.
He nodded, looking straight ahead while he swallowed some of his own drink. At last he muttered, “You’re welcome.”
“Wow!” Red finished serving the people to Zoe’s right and walked back to where she and the grouch were sitting. “You must be working some magic on him. He’s been here a little more than a week, and this is the friendliest he’s been.”
“So he isn’t from around here?” Zoe asked.
“No. He showed up one night out of nowhere. I think he’s staying at the NoTel Motel next door.”
“Hmm.”
Her reporter’s nose was twitching. She loved mysteries and, while she had a feeling digging at the stranger would be like poking a bear, she couldn’t seem to help herself. More than one friend had told her that her rabid curiosity might get her in trouble. Well, trouble seemed to be her middle name.
“We still don’t know his last name,” Red told her.
“Is that right?” Zoe swiveled on her stool and lightly touched the man’s arm.
Looking for trouble, Young. Watch yourself.
“Okay.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll go first. I’m Zoe.” She held out her hand.
He looked at it as if it was a foreign appendage, but she stuck her hand right under his nose, forcing him to shake with her. Finally, with obvious reluctance, he wrapped his own hand around hers. It was warm and hard at the same time, the heat flowing into her from the contact. His palm was rough and calloused, and the fingers strong. When he pulled back, she felt an unexpected loss, and what on earth was that all about?
“And your name is?” she prompted.
She noticed Red standing right there, curiosity stamped on his face. She was glad no one else seemed to be interested, or he might have hauled ass out of there.
“Sean.” He growled the word.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Sean?”
“Yeah. There something wrong with that?”
“Oh no.” She found a smile. “I actually like it.”
“Well.” Red clapped his hands together. “Isn’t that cute. Zoe and Sean. Looks like we’re making progress here. I’d offer you drinks on the house to celebrate, but it looks like you’re still working on the ones in front of you. I’ll