Michael hadn’t expected to miss Roxanne this much. He’d left her a little over twelve hours ago and it seemed like days. Part of it was that he couldn’t text or call her. Well, he could, but he’d intrude on her time with her brother. Not doing that.

He chafed at the uncertainty of when he’d see her again, though. It might be tomorrow and it might be next week. Or it could be…right this minute.

She sailed through the door of the GG, flushed, windblown, beautiful. She gave him a little wave. He sent back a quick grin before focusing on the tall guy next to her, the one talking to Ingrid.

Wes had on typical cowboy garb—boots, jeans, sheepskin jacket and black hat. He took off the hat and ran his fingers through his hair. His hair was short but curly like Roxanne’s. He had her high cheekbones, too.

Putting on the hat again, he surveyed the room. When his attention settled on Michael, his gaze sharpened. Michael stared right back. High noon all over again. He smiled and got an answering grin from Wes. Good start.

Ellen set down her tray on the bar. “That has to be her brother.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at her. “Whatcha need?”

“One gin and tonic, one rum and Coke and a JD on the rocks.”

“Coming up.”

“How about if I go over and greet them?”

“That would be great.” The GG had an open seating policy, but he appreciated Ellen’s gesture. He started on the gin and tonic.

Wes was Roxanne’s beloved brother who only wanted the best for her, just like he did. If nothing else, they had that in common.

On a Tuesday night with no live music, business was slow. Michael was working alone and sporting his freshly washed logo t-shirt. Good thing he’d done laundry today. Wearing the shirt was a bit like a knight wearing his lady’s colors into battle. Not that this would be a battle. He’d see to it.

All the bar stools were available and several tables, too. If they chose a table, he’d find a moment to go over and introduce himself. He planned to be the nicest guy Wes had ever met.

After setting the G and T on Ellen’s tray, he mixed the rum and Coke. He’d filled a rocks glass with ice and picked up the JD when the telltale squeak of revolving stools told him what the trio had decided. He wouldn’t have to go to the action. They’d brought the party to him. Game on.

He glanced down the bar. “Hey, Roxanne. I’ll be right with you folks.”

“No rush, Michael,” she called back.

For whatever reason, they’d chosen to sit several stools away from where he stood mixing drinks. He’d take it as a promising sign. If Wes had been an aggressive type, the guy would be stationed directly in front of him, ready to get in his face.

He set the last drink on Ellen’s tray and she picked it up with a smile and a wink. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, he walked toward the group. Roxanne was on the end closest to him, Wes was next, and Ingrid sat to Wes’s right.

He smiled at Roxanne. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. This is my brother, Wes.”

“Easy to see you two are related.” He extended his hand across the bar. “I’ve looked forward to meeting you. I’ve heard great things.”

Wes’s handshake was firm, his gaze direct. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too, Michael.” His brown eyes were like Roxanne’s, just not as friendly.

Michael turned his attention to Ingrid. “Good to see you, too. What can I get for everybody?”

“I was thinking a Monkey’s Lunch,” Ingrid said. “But it looks like Tansy’s not working tonight.”

“She’s not, but I can look it up on my phone and give it a try. If I botch it, it’s free.”

Ingrid smiled. “Then I can’t lose. Go for it.”

“All righty.” He glanced at Roxanne. “How about you?”

“I’ll take one, too. Now I’m curious how they compare to a Butterscotch Mocha.”

Ingrid looked over at her. “When did you have one of those?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Um…”

“Never mind.” Ingrid waved a hand at her. “I keep forgetting you’re dating a bar owner.”

Michael appreciated the casual way Ingrid handled that. “What can I get for you, Wes?”

“I’ll take a Guzzling Grizzly.”

Michael hesitated. Was the guy taunting him? “I’ve never heard of that.”

“If there’s a shooter called Monkey’s Lunch, why not one called a Guzzling Grizzly?”

“I suppose there might be. Let’s see, shall we?” He grabbed his phone from its spot behind the bar and did a quick search. “Nothing. This bar comes up in a search. No shooter with that name. Or drink of any kind, for that matter.”

“So here’s an idea. What if we made one up?”

“Now?”

He shrugged. “It’s a thought. You have a great place here. Seems a shame not to have a signature drink.”

Michael couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or serious. Didn’t matter. It was an awesome idea. “Let me make a phone call, see if our mixologist is available.”

Wes’s eyebrows lifted. “You have one?”

“We do, now.” He scrolled through his contacts and called Tansy.

“Hey, boss. What’s up?”

“Look, I know it’s your night off, but Roxanne’s brother Wes is here and he made a suggestion that’s right up your alley. He thinks we need a signature drink called the Guzzling Grizzly. I agree. It’s slow right now so it would be the perfect time to—”

“Are there enough customers there to run some taste tests?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“I’m on my way. This will be epic.”

“Oh, and Tansy?”

“Yes, boss?”

“You just got a promotion. You’re the new mixologist.”

Her shout nearly broke his eardrum.

“See you soon.” He disconnected the call. “The cavalry is on the way and I recommend waiting for your Monkeys Lunch shooters until she gets here.”

“I’ve changed my mind about that,” Roxanne said. “A Guzzling Grizzly sounds more interesting.”

“I agree.” Ingrid glanced at Wes. “Looks like you started something.”

“You sure did.” Michael studied Roxanne’s brother. If he’d been blowing smoke, the joke was on him. A signature drink would sell like hotcakes and put money in the GG coffers, benefitting the staff and the owners, of which he was one. “Thank you. I can see this turning into a big deal.”

“I hope it does.” Wes’s expression had undergone a subtle change. His jaw was no longer tight and his shoulders had relaxed. Even his gaze had softened a little. “I’ll be honest. I was pulling your chain.”

Roxanne thumped him on the shoulder. “Not nice.”

“But profitable in the end.” Michael grinned. “I can stand to have my chain pulled now and then if good ideas are the result. And this is a great idea.”

“Not everyone would have reacted the way you did, Murphy.” Wes seemed to be offering him grudging respect. “A person could easily get defensive and reject the concept because it was presented as a challenge instead of a suggestion.”

“But here’s the thing, Wes. I thrive on challenges.”

“So I heard.”

“Then this was a test?”

“Well, I—”

“I sure hope it wasn’t.” Roxanne frowned at her brother. “You promised to keep this first meeting cordial.”

“I was cordial. I didn’t plan any of it ahead of time. But when I saw there was nothing like that on the drinks menu, I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, buddy.”

“I’m not your buddy.”

Michael laughed. “Not yet. Oh, and here comes Tansy with her new title of mixologist.”

Tansy threw both hands in the air. “I love having that designation. Is there money attached?”

“Of course.”

“Then I love it even more. Stand back, boss. I’m about to make history.”

Michael gave her space to work while he and Ellen rounded up volunteers from the customers along with a few designated drivers.

Roxanne volunteered to handle that for her crew. As people gathered around the bar, she stepped back to give them room.

Since Michael had stopped serving drinks now that everyone was taste testing the new one, he came out from behind the bar and stood next to her. “How’re you doing?”

She glanced up at him. “Okay. How about you?”

“Hanging in. Missing you.”

“I miss you, too.” She spoke softly. “Look, I’m not going to apologize for my brother, but—”

“Please don’t. It turned into win-win.”

“I’m glad it worked out that way, but he’s determined to test your character. I just didn’t think he’d start in tonight.”

“I can take it.”

“You don’t have to, though. He’s met you. We can leave it at that. You don’t have to subject yourself to…anything else.”

“Like what?”

“He thinks the three of us should go riding. He claims he can tell a lot about a person by the way they react to horses.”

“Then let’s do that. How’s Thursday morning? I can set it up with Kendra.”

Her brow puckered. “You’re not on trial. You don’t have to prove anything to Wes.”

“I won’t try to. He grew up on a ranch. You both can ride rings around me. No contest, there. But if he thinks he can unmask my true self by observing me with horses, I’m all for it. Doesn’t worry me a bit.”

“I’m sure you have enough to do without adding this to your schedule.”

He brushed his knuckle over her cheek, a light caress that was all he could allow himself in this setting. “I get to be with you. Please tell Wes that I want to go and I’ll arrange it with Kendra. How’s nine?”

She held his gaze. “I’ll tell him. Thank you for being so wonderful about this.”

“I would crawl over broken glass to be with you. A horseback ride is—”

“The votes are in!” Tansy’s voice rose above the hubbub. “We have a winner!”

“Which one is it?” called out one of the customers standing at the bar.

“The drink about to become known as a Guzzling Grizzly is what the majority agrees a bear would lap up—a combo of Kahlua, Chambord and Sambuca.”

Cheers went up from the crowd.

“See?” Michael smiled at Roxanne. “Everything worked out for the best.”

“Because of you.” She kissed her fingertips and touched his cheek. “Because of you, Michael Murphy.”