Brazen. Carly Phillips

gonna sit there all night or you gonna give me a run for my money? Watch and learn, honey.”

      Sam had seen this maneuver in college, but she’d never witnessed an eighty-year-old man make the attempt. Zee performed admirably. “You sure he’s up to this?” she asked Mac as Zee wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

      “Apparently more than you.”

      She took that as a challenge. Copying the old man, she licked her hand, poured the salt onto her skin, licked, downed the contents of the shot glass and reached for the lemon.

      “Not bad for a first-timer,” Zee congratulated, refilling the glasses.

      Sam’s gaze met Mac’s the moment the sour fruit reached her lips…because she’d just gulped a mouthful of straight water mixed with a healthy dose of food coloring. And he knew it. He winked, telling her to play along.

      In that instant, Sam got another glimpse into her knight in shining armor’s character. He humored old men and looked out for damsels in distress. Considering her current predicament, Sam realized she fit that label, too.

      Mac, whatever-his-last-name-was, was a sexy, hard-working, sexy, decent, sexy guy. The perfect man for her purposes. Sam liked what she saw and liked what she’d learned. She couldn’t have found a better man than Mac.

      But first he had a bar to run, and from the look of things, he needed help.

      

      OUT OF BEER. The ladies in The Hungry Bear never ceased to amaze him. The Resort stocked premium vodka, while Bear loaded up on dark beer. Same state, different breed of women, Mac thought as he headed for the back room to refill his supply.

      He’d moved one box to get to the keg when a fragrant scent alerted him that he had company. He raised his head, but without looking over his shoulder, he knew. Samantha.

      “What are you doing here?” he asked, without turning around. She was a distraction he couldn’t enjoy right now. Later, when he locked up for the night, maybe. If she was willing. But not now.

      “A couple just walked in and they wanted a beer. The tap was empty and I didn’t see any bottles behind the bar, so I…”

      “You were tending bar?”

      “There wasn’t anyone else to do it.” She squared her shoulders defensively.

      “I told Zee to keep an eye on things.”

      “Zee thinks he’s drunk.”

      That comment broke the tension, and they shared a good laugh. “You look out for him,” she said. Approval and something more gleamed in her eyes, making him uncomfortable beneath her knowing stare.

      “Someone has to…he’s Bear’s father. The old guy lost his wife a few years back and he’s always looking for a little attention. It was nice of you to give it to him, by the way.” Not many people would give a lonely old man the time of day. Bear’s customers put up with the old coot for Bear’s sake and because like Mac, they’d known Zee and his friends forever. Samantha had done it for a stranger.

      “How long had they been married?” she asked.

      “Over fifty years.”

      “Wow, that’s a long time.” A shudder shook her slight frame.

      “Not for them. They really loved each other.” Mac wondered when he’d become the spokesperson for marriage. Not that he’d mind settling down one day; in fact, he’d like nothing more. He just never believed he’d find a woman sincere and honest enough to make the risk worthwhile. He glanced at Samantha. Until now?

      Mac wanted the chance to find out.

      “At least those years were filled with love,” she said.

      He met her gaze. “Can’t see tying yourself to someone for any other reason. Might as well wrap a noose around your neck otherwise.”

      She cleared her throat. “Would you mind changing the subject?”

      “Why? Marriage makes you uncomfortable?” he asked lightly. If he had his way, he’d have plenty of time later to pry her secrets out of her. She obviously had many. “Don’t tell Zee or he’ll be giving you an earful about tradition, respect and good old-fashioned love.” The older man’s distinctive cackle filtered into the room.

      She smiled, the wide grin knocking him senseless. There was no way he’d survive until closing with her hanging around, dodging his every move.

      “He’s harmless…and sweet.” She shut the door behind her and walked inside, moving closer until he caught a whiff of the tangy soap she’d used during her shower. Though he missed the hint of peaches clinging to her skin, this scent worked on him, too.

      She drew a deep breath. “Kind of like you,” she murmured, a nervous tremor touching her voice.

      He lifted her chin with his finger. “Sweetheart, I’m the furthest thing from sweet you’ll find in these parts.” Cold, withdrawn, disinterested. Those were the nicer adjectives some of the women at The Resort used to describe the blunt manner in which he’d turned down their advances. But he’d learned the hard way, letting them down gently never worked.

      “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back until he hit the wall. Then with another tremulous breath, she leaned her body against his.

      And then she kissed him. Hard and fast, as if she didn’t want to give herself a chance to change her mind. Which was fine with him. She’d made the first move, and Mac intended to make sure she didn’t regret it. Because with her soft mouth devouring his and her hands now pulling at his shirt and trailing up his chest, he definitely wanted more.

      She didn’t give him a chance. Those fingers curled into fists and she shoved backward, separating them before he could act on impulse and take what he wanted. What she’d seemed to offer just seconds before.

      Wide eyes, darkened by passion and a hint of insecurity, met his. “I don’t know what I was thinking, grabbing you like that.”

      Her uncertainty touched him. “I don’t know what you were thinking, either, but did you hear me complaining?”

      A slight smile took hold of her lips. “You mean you liked it?” she asked.

      Reaching out, he grasped her forearm, gently pressing his fingers into her flesh. “You mean you couldn’t tell? My technique must be rusty.” He let his thumb run circles over her skin.

      He took one step toward her, and when she didn’t back away, he locked them together once again. She tipped her head backward to meet his gaze.

      “You can trust me, sweetheart.”

      “I know.” Her wide smile reassured him, and he kissed her without holding back. She responded. Her tongue filled his mouth, while her soft sighs and little moans drove him mad. Apparently she’d needed reassurance, and having gotten it, she relaxed in his arms.

      Her flimsy shirt already hung off one bare shoulder. Although not blatantly sexy, this soft, frilly thing aroused him beyond belief. Acting on impulse, he grabbed both the tank top strap along with the ruffled edge of the shirt and pulled both down far enough to let him taste one of her darkened nipples. Her moan of delight was unrestrained as she arched her back in wanton response, giving him complete access.

      Mac had never embarrassed himself in front of a woman, but he damn near did so now. Another few seconds and he wouldn’t give a damn that a bar full of people waited outside that door. He’d scatter their clothes on the floor and bury himself inside her willing warmth. He needed to stop but wasn’t ready to let her go.

      He had no choice. Her admitted hesitancy prevented him from going further. With more difficulty than he would have imagined, he raised his head. “Still think I’m harmless?” he asked, his breathing not at all steady.

      “No, but you do taste sweet.” An embarrassed