McKinley’s day couldn’t get much worse. The ice maker had stopped working on the lunch shift and she’d had to waste a precious half hour of the beginning of her shift buying out the convenience store’s supply of bagged ice. They were out of two draft beers. And she’d had to fire a waitress today for “forgetting” to card a table of underage tourists. Her replacement was good and pissed about being called in on her day off.

And McKinley didn’t blame her a bit.

She shoved a hand into her thick curls and dropped the sunglasses down over her eyes to head back out onto the deck.

It was busy even for a Saturday evening, which meant money for everyone and fun for the crowd. Every table on the sunshine yellow deck was full of people laughing, talking, drinking. The band was warming up. She gave a salute to the bass player who signaled for another round. McKinley dropped a bucket of beers off at a table full of sunburned fishermen and a plate of loaded nachos for their neighbors, a ladies’ night out from the looks of them.

She swung back inside and ducked behind the bar, pouring beers and waters for the band.

Leeta stabbed at the register screen next to her. “Well, I guess if Sandy was going to get fired at least she had the sense to do it on a night that I’ll make enough cash for those sexy Maui Jim’s,” she said.

McKinley snorted. “Yeah, there’s always a right time to serve underage customers.”

“Technically she only tried to serve them. You caught her before any beer was actually delivered.”

“Still,” McKinley grumbled. “It’s my ass if something like that happens.”

“And what a fine ass it is,” Leeta said with an exaggerated wink.

McKinley rolled her eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“You looooove me,” Leeta reminded her. “Besides if you won’t date customers, you might as well date me. We can share clothes and rub each other’s feet after shift.”

“You and Byron break up?” McKinley asked, piling the drinks on her tray and pouring six shots of Fireball for the wrist-banded twenty-somethings at the corner of the bar.

“Ugh. He turned out to be an ass.”

“If only someone would have warned you not to get involved… again.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Don’t date customers.’ Don’t you get tired of being right?” Leeta demanded.

“Never,” McKinley answered with a shake of her head. “Now go make lots of money so you can be my sugar mama.” She doled out shots followed by six waters for the partiers and spun back through to serve the band. “Bring the house down, boys,” she told them.

They were a Jimmy Buffet cover band that usually had customers crowding onto the dance floor before the first song was over. “You comin’ out for ‘Brown Eyed Girl’?”

“I’ll be here. Just give me a little warning where you are in the set list,” McKinley promised.

Behind the bar again, she delivered burgers and frozen drinks and the requisite smile for people enjoying their vacations while she worked her ass off. Not that she minded. She liked the work, the pace, the casual acquaintance with an ever-changing crowd.

Leeta claimed McKinley was a commitment phobe. And she wasn’t wrong. McKinley had been there before. Committed, married, blindsided. But she’d moved on, rebuilt. Well, most areas of her life, at least. Despite the fact that she was thirty-five in a spring break town, she got plenty of attention behind the bar. Harmless flirting, drunken propositions. But she wasn’t in any hurry to stop enjoying her alone time. She had a cute little apartment two blocks from the water, a job that energized her, and a circle of friends that didn’t care if she was divorced or single.

She felt a frisson of energy skate over her skin and knew he was here.

“Hot Fly Boy just landed,” Leeta hissed as she passed by with an empty tray.

“He has a name,” McKinley shot back and studiously avoided the corner of the bar that Colton Hayes had just bellied up to. He was beyond cute and charming and smart and seemingly sweet. And that was the problem.

She’d fallen for that kind of package once before and look how that had ended. Her husband had become a stranger on the other side of the table with a lawyer.

While her standard brushoff “I don’t date customers” worked on most men, Colton was immune, determined, ridiculous.

Against her will, her gaze skimmed over him. Dark hair that curled at the ends, sharp green eyes with soft laugh lines. He was never clean-shaven and always tan, suggesting some kind of Middle Eastern or Mediterranean lineage. He gave her a wave and an easy grin and she felt the corners of her mouth lifting. He wore a pine green polo that made his eyes look even brighter. McKinley returned her attention to the double rum and Cokes she was pouring and let herself secretly enjoy the weight of his gaze on her.

“Hey, there, Kinley.” His voice was deep and smooth like that very nice bottle of Lagavulin on the top shelf.

“Hey, Colt,” she said, ordering her pulse to calm the hell down. She wasn’t interested.

She dropped the rum and Cokes off at their rightful owners and wiped her palms on the back of her cutoffs.

“How’s our favorite bartender?” Colton’s friend and fellow pilot, Chelsea, rested her elbows on the bar and reached for the stack of menus on top of the cooler under the bar. Her red hair was tied back in the trademark ponytail atop her head. She wore a pink tank top and three leather corded necklaces. They were regulars and would serve themselves if McKinley let them.

“If I see her, I’ll ask her,” McKinley quipped. “How were the friendly skies today?”

“Beautiful,” Colton said.

“Sounds like you’re talking about more than the skies,” Talia spoke up as she arrived. Black, bold, and beautiful, she was the smartass of their little group. Colton slid off his stool and waved his friend onto it.

Always the gentleman. He’d been too consistent over the last eight months for it to be an act. But people changed, McKinley reminded herself.

“The usual?” McKinley asked. She was always pricklier when he was around because she didn’t trust herself completely to stay firm in her resolve not to dive into another relationship. And that’s exactly what Colton was looking for. He didn’t dabble in sex and one-night stands. He had the look of “sexy pilot seeking lifelong commitment” written all over him and had said as much in their conversations.

“Yes, please,” Chelsea said, slapping a palm on the menu and sliding it over to Talia.

“Where’s the rest of your party?” she asked.

“Milt and Sonny hit the dance floor first,” Colton said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the music. Rounding out the airport crew were Milt, a flight instructor with a mountain man beard, and Sonny, a lanky mechanic with a booming laugh. They made it to the bar a good three nights a week. None of them ever drank too much. They all tipped over twenty percent. And Colton and Sonny had, on more than one occasion, walked inebriated customers back to their hotels for her.

And every visit, Colton asked her out.

McKinley rang in their order, a pitcher of beer, waters all around, and loaded fries. And snagged the bar phone when it rang next to her elbow.

“Sunset Point,” she said, tucking the phone into her shoulder and starting the pitcher pour.

“Hi. Is this McKinley?” a female voice asked.

“That’s me.”

“Great! My name is Faith and I’d like you to reconsider your stance on Colton Hayes.”

McKinley turned around to stare at Colton. He was laughing at some story Chelsea was telling. As if sensing her, he turned those bottle green eyes on her. He cocked his head to the side, questioning.

She arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Now he was putting strangers up to annoying her. His charm was slipping.

“He didn’t put me up to this,” the caller said quickly, as if reading her mind. “And you probably shouldn’t tell him. It’s just, I’m one of his students and I honestly have never met a kinder heart. I have cancer— had,” Faith corrected herself.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” McKinley said, recalling a few stories Colton had shared about Faith, his gum-cracking, cancer-fighting student.

“No need to be sorry. I’m still here, kickin’ ass. Anyway, Colt is one of the nicest people on the planet. He waved my flight lesson fees and donated his time and sent me flowers after my last radiation treatment. I couldn’t think of the right way to say thank you until now. So, what I’m saying is you should go out with him.”

McKinley held Colton’s gaze. “I’ll take that under advisement,” she said lightly.

“Look, honey. I know that it can be tough. Dating today sucks. I thank my lucky stars that I found my husband when I did and don’t need to deal with any of that ‘swipe right’ bullshit. But this is a no-brainer. Colt’s smart, sweet, gorgeous, and he thinks you’re amazing. What the hell else do you want? Give him a shot.”

There was a muffled noise in the background of the call and McKinley put her finger in her ear to hear better over the music.

“I gotta go. Al’s in the hot tub. Listen, woman to woman, life is too short to be careful. Okay? Oh, and I’m trusting Colt’s judgement on you. If you’re a terrible person, forget I called.”

McKinley frowned, considering the woman’s words. “Okay?” It was more of a question than a statement.

“Great. Good luck!” Faith hung up leaving McKinley flustered.

She shut off the tap that was overflowing beer from the mouth of the pitcher like a frothy waterfall. She wiped it down with a clean towel and crossed to Colton’s party. She dropped the pitcher in front of him and handed over their plastic cups. His fingers brushed hers as he took them from her. And she felt that damn zing through her blood. Every time they touched, no matter how casually, it was there.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice low.

No everything was not okay. Not with a little patty fingers sending a blush to her cheeks and neck and probably her entire torso. Why was it so damn hot in here with the Florida coastal breeze picking up the ends of her hair and playing with it? It was not okay. Not with people calling her at work to lobby for him. Either he was the most determined player she’d ever met in her life or he was the nice guy everyone insisted he was. And McKinley didn’t know which option made her jumpier.

“It’s fine. Everything is fine,” she said, dragging her hand away from his.

“Excuse me, miss?” a woman across the bar flagged her down.

McKinley took a deep breath, pasted a breezy smile on her face, and did her job.