Wyatt dug his elbows into the bar, pressing the smooth black varnish until his skin was red. It was dark inside the Lucky Coin. Just how he liked it. There was a row of booths along the back wall and three sides of the bar lined with stools.

“What can I get you?” The bartender threw a dish towel over his shoulder.

“I’ll take a beer and a shamrock burger. Medium rare.”

“Fries?” he asked.

“Sounds good.” Wyatt waited while the man poured his beer and slid it in front of him.

The low hum of a football game played on the TV hung over the rows of liquor. Wyatt pulled his cap close to his temples. He didn’t know the last time he watched a football game and drank a beer. At a previous point in his life he would have enjoyed it.

He felt the cold liquid slide down his throat as he watched a play unfold overhead.

He had seen the bar from the window in his room. He had every intention of slipping out the front door without running into Aly, but she had spotted him. There were only two things he could do: grab her and tell her all the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her that were pounding through him, or get the hell out of there.

He shook his head. He had never been at such odds with himself before. He needed to get a grip.

“Big Lightning fan?”

He would know the sound of her voice anywhere. He had only heard it for a few minutes, but the lightness was ingrained in his mind. He turned. Aly stood next to the bar. She clutched the corners of a purple jacket, tugging the edges together. Her pink cheeks were glowing, and her hair tumbled loose over her shoulders.

“What’s the score?” She slid into the open seat next to him.

He stared at her in disbelief, while trying not to study every part of her. The way her teeth peeked through her lips. The way her hips filled out those tight jeans. The way her long eyelashes fanned every time she blinked. He swallowed hard.

“Not sure. I just sat down.”

“Who do you root for?” she asked.

“I haven’t followed college football in a while.” He pulled the stein to his lips, trying to avoid more questions.

“How’s it going, Aly?” The bartender walked toward them.

“Hi, Rick. Quiet.” She smiled.

“Haven’t seen your dad today.”

She folded her hands in front of her on the bar, and Wyatt’s heart flinched at the sight of the ring.

“He drove to Seattle to pick up a part for the furnace. He needed a few days away I think.”

“I see.” He smiled at her and popped a piece of gum in his mouth. “Can I get something for you?”

“Yes.” She grinned. “A big glass of wine and the shamrock burger.”

“Extra fries?” the bartender asked.

“Always.” She laughed. Wyatt didn’t think he had heard such a warm sound before. He stole a look at her from the side of his eye. She was smiling.

“Any word from Glen on your bike?” she asked.

“No. He said to stop by in the morning.”

He started to think St. Claire was even smaller than he had guessed. Everyone seemed to know each other on a first name basis.

“Where are you headed after this?”

It was a casual question. A normal question that any stranger would ask, but Wyatt had no way to answer it. He never had a destination, only a mission. He grabbed the stein handle and took a few chugs.

“I’m not sure.” He made the mistake of looking in her eyes. He was glad he was holding the beer with both hands. He was instantly desperate to touch her.

“Are you on vacation or something?”

“Something.” He forced the word out. There was no way to describe what was happening to him. He could feel the intense thumping in his veins. His head was pounding. His fingers were twitching. He willed himself to stare at the TV and follow the movements of the runner on the field, avoiding tackles.

“Here you go, Aly.” The bartender returned with a goblet of red wine. “How’s that fiancée of yours?”

Wyatt closed his eyes.

She cleared her throat. “Mitchell’s out of town for work.”

“I never see him in here anymore.” Rick whistled at the TV. “That’s a touchdown, folks.”

Wyatt turned just in time to see her lower her eyes. “He’s busy. He just landed some new accounts. I think it will be better after the wedding.”

“I bet it will.” Rick tapped on the bar. “Let me get your burgers. Some game, huh?”

Wyatt could sense it without her saying a single word. She was sad. Maybe even disappointed. The lightness she had brought in with her was mixed with murky grayness.

He didn’t know where it came from, but he asked, “What does he do? Your fiancé.”

She held the wine between her palms. “He’s a sales rep for PharmTek.”

Wyatt nodded. He had never imagined a career wearing a suit or driving an expensive car. Since he was a kid, he always knew he wanted to be a soldier. He had a drive to serve and to protect. He had no desire to be cooped up in an office all day. The thought of sitting behind a computer all day made him anxious.

“When’s the wedding?” he asked.

“Next summer.” She took a sip of wine. “I think. But we might have to push it back depending on my fiance’s schedule. He’s really doing well. I don’t want the wedding to set him back.”

“No date set?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, but we will eventually. Soon.”

It was completely involuntary, but Wyatt felt the corners of his mouth turn up. The pain that had seized under his ribs suddenly released.

“Do you see him often?” he asked.

“When it works for his schedule. But he’s busy.”

“You mentioned that.” He didn’t have the right, but he despised the man. Who would leave her here alone? Who would give her a ring, but be selfish enough to refuse to set a date? He clenched his teeth together. Mitchell sounded like a fucking coward. And there was nothing he hated more than a coward.

He looked at her empty glass and his and held up his hand. “Rick, I’d like another round.” He smiled at Aly. “For both of us.”