Keep It Together - By Lissa Matthews Page 0,20

you in the mood for?”

“A beer and shrimp.”

A beer girl? Holy Mother of… Could she get any hotter? “Sounds good. You lead the way.”

And she did. Chrissie started off toward a small bar sitting on the corner she’d just come around. She looked as good from behind as she did from the front, and he couldn’t keep from noticing the way her hips swayed and the twitch of her ass with each step she took. She’d gained a little since he saw her in December, but damn, she wore it well. She was beautiful, sexy enough to make his mouth taste like cotton, and she likely didn’t even know it. The small stud earrings and the lack of makeup only added to her appeal for him. He could just eat her alive, he was so taken with her.

Now that he could spend some time with her, had made the move to see her again instead of just fantasizing about her, every thought he’d had for the last six months seemed to come rushing forward.

He wanted his hands on her.

“You coming with me or staying outside? ’Cause if you’re staying, and you’re buying, I’m gonna need your credit card.”

Colt laughed at her flirtatious wink and the smile she threw over her shoulder at him. “No way am I giving you my card.” Yet. If things turned out the way he was hoping they would, he’d hand over anything she wanted. “You go get a seat, and I’ll get a couple of beers. What do you like?”

“Whatever at this point. Surprise me. It was a busy night.”

Colt watched her wind her way through the crowd until she disappeared into it. He caught sight of her again as she headed out to the terrace.

“What can I get you?” the bartender shouted over the noise.

Colt returned his attention to the bar. “You carry anything local?”

“Moon River, yeah.”

“Two.”

“It’s on tap.”

“That’s fine.”

The beers were poured and slid across the bar to him. Colt turned and took the same route through the crowd as Chrissie had. The smell of fried fish, alcohol, the river, summer outside at night, and sweat all mixed together. The noise was near deafening in the middle of the room, but as he got closer to the terrace, it dimmed to a moderate roar, enough to where he could hear himself think.

“You eaten here?” he asked as he sat across from her at a small two-person square table.

“Only once or twice.” She picked up the beer and sucked a little at the foam before swallowing the medium-amber liquid down. “Mmm. The local stuff.”

“Yep. Have you had it before?”

“Yeah. Their brew pub is over on Bay. Good beer, good food. You should try it sometime.”

“Next time I’m in town, I’ll let you take me.”

Chrissie nodded slowly, wary as she studied him, but soon eased back in her chair. “Okay.”

Colt smiled and took a swallow of his own beer. “This is pretty good.” He was the one person in his family who liked beer. Russ and their father preferred bourbon. Amber preferred wine. And Russ’s mother lived on gin and tonic. Colt, though, liked the earthiness of beer, the warm camaraderie it often inspired. He could walk into a bar in any given town, order a beer, and be treated like he was a long-lost friend. One couldn’t do that in wine bars.

“It is. You travel a lot, right?”

“I do. I like to try whatever local flavors in beer or wine or food when I can. Makes the hassle of traveling a little more personal.”

“Does that include women?” She asked it with such a straight face that he wasn’t sure how to answer her without damning himself, for good or ill.

“Now see,” he said around a snort of laughter. “I can’t tell if you’re being curious or snarky.” She shrugged but maintained her casual posture in the chair. She sipped at her beer and stared at him, unblinking and unhurried. Something softened inside him even more. She could hold her own against him and make him sweat.

“Curiously snarky.”

“No, it doesn’t include women. I’m perfectly content to not have a different woman in each city.”

“One-woman man?” The tone of her voice said that surprised her.

“Lately, very much so.” He knew she wasn’t sure of him. Hell, how could she be? She didn’t realize how seriously his brain had taken hold of her innocently made statement, a statement made out of pain and sadness and humiliation. But he wanted her. He wanted to take her to bed.