Chapter 2
“HE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE YOUR TYPE.”
“He’s not,” Kitty said, her heart hammering in her chest like a machine gun, only partly caused by her ex showing up without warning.
JW had her stomach in knots from the second he sat down at her bar. She’d always been attracted to bad boys. The guy with a scruffy, unshaven face, but not out of control. Just wild. Hair a little messy. Mystery lurking behind brooding eyes. She always called it the ‘rugged look’. Her father called it the ‘stay away from him’ look.
“I was young and naïve when I met Preston.” Men like her ex, clean shaven, always dressed in designer cloths, constantly needed to look and be the best, always came off as arrogant and fake. So, the idea she’d fallen so hard for Preston still prickled her skin like a thousand needles during an acupuncture session. He was all those things, yet he had been sweet, and kind, and in the beginning, generous and overly attentive.
That all ended when he’d made the mistake of committing fraud.
JW arched a brow. “Preston? That sounds very country club preppy.”
She let out a short laugh. “You have no idea.”
“Are you friendly with your ex?”
“We haven’t spoken in over a year.”
Normally, she didn’t discuss her personal life with strangers, or customers, but something about the tall, sexy man sitting in front of her made her feel safe. Comfortable.
Probably a bad idea since she’d been so wrong about Preston.
For the last month, Kitty had been glued to the television, watching with disbelief as her ex-husband managed to get all his convictions overturned. After his first trial, he’d managed to get a re-trial based on legal defect from the first. His attorney filed motion after motion, delaying a new trial and then new evidence was presented, and Preston became a free man.
She figured he and his family had spent a small fortune bribing judges and other officials to make sure Preston not only didn’t serve a single day in prison, but that he came off more like a victim instead of a criminal.
“Looks like he’s coming this way,” JW said, popping a French fry in his mouth. “Give me a code word if you need help.”
“It’s going to be him who needs assistance.” She watched as Preston waved to three men before gliding between the tables, heading right in her direction.
“I was hoping you’d be here.” Preston wedged himself next to JW, who didn’t look thrilled to be nudged with an elbow and no apology.
“What are you doing here, Preston?” she asked, hands firmly planted on her hips.
“I’m meeting friends.” He had the nerve to smile at her as if their crossing paths was an everyday normal occurrence. “But I was hoping to see you. I think we should talk.”
“My silence toward your phone calls and texts should tell you I don’t feel the same way.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the sexy cowboy look her ex up and down. Part of her had enjoyed the light banter JW had provided, and he’d be the perfect kind of man to toss in Preston’s face.
“I think I deserve five minutes of your time, considering everything.”
“Say your peace,” she muttered. Preston could be persistent, and the last thing she wanted was for him to bother her, or her family.
“I don’t want to do it here. Have coffee with me.”
“She’s busy,” JW said casually as he wiped his hands on his napkin, tossing it on the plate.
Preston craned his neck. “And you are?”
“A friend,” Kitty interjected, not wanting a pounding of the chest situation. “Look, Preston, we have nothing left to say to each other.”
“A lot has changed since you… walked out.” Preston leaned over the counter.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Preston told her she was a rat leaving a sinking ship when she’d asked for a divorce. He’d go between that and begging her to stay, telling her it would all work itself out that all she had to do was trust him. “Now that I’ve been cleared, I was thinking—”
“Nothing good comes out of you thinking.”
“You still have a razor-sharp tongue,” he said, shaking his head with a stupid smile. “I want to help you. I know you gave up a lot to help your brother—”
“You don’t have a clue, Preston. And I don’t want your help. With anything.”
“I can make things easier on you financially.” He curled his slimy, dirty fingers around her wrist.
JW cleared his throat. “I don’t think the lady wants your hands on her.”
“I don’t care what you think,” Preston said with a clipped tone, glaring.
She took the opportunity to yank her hand free.
Swiveling the bar stool, JW folded his large arms across his chest. His muscles flexed.
“I don’t need a hand out, thank you,” she said behind gritted teeth. When she’d first met Preston, he’d given her family money and opportunity, but over the course of their marriage, he used that simple fact to control her.
“Consider it a loan.”
“I don’t need your money, nor do I want it or the strings that come with it.”
“Fine.” Preston tossed his hands to the side. “I heard your brother graduated from college. Good for him. My company is looking for good, smart people right now.” Preston stiffened his spine, shoving his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels like a proud peacock ruffling its feathers.
“He’s got a job.” She smiled as wickedly as she could. “With Emerson Industries.”
Preston’s mouth dropped opened at the news her brother was working for the man who turned Preston into the federal government.
She bit down on the inside of her mouth. That was way too much fun.
“Now if you don’t mind,” she said. “I need to get back to work.”
Preston drew his lips into a tight line. He hated being dismissed by anyone. “Give your family my best.” He turned on his heels.
She watched him glide across the floor like a graceful figure skater, stopping at a couple of tables to shake hands with a couple of men she’d never seen before.
She had to give it to him, when he walked into a room, everyone took notice. Devastatingly handsome with his short, blond hair, deep-blue eyes, and slender, but firm build, he carried himself with a combination of confidence and arrogance that fooled the world into believing he was an honest man.
“Never seen a divorced man offer his ex-wife money before,” JW said.
“It’s an offer from the devil.” There was absolutely nothing she could do about Preston spending time in Pat’s Irish Pub. She supposed she could go to her boss and explain how uncomfortable he made her feel, but to be fair, Preston had done nothing negative. He’d given her the divorce when she asked, even though he’d begged her to stick it out, promising things would work out, but she knew he was guilty of what he’d been accused of and couldn’t stomach living with a fraud.
Even if at one time she had truly, honestly, loved him.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” JW asked with a soft and gentle voice, but with fire glowing from his dark eyes.
“If you’re asking if he hit me, God no. He’s a spoiled rotten, rich bastard, who thinks nothing of lying to and cheating his business partners, but he’s not a violent man.”
“Mind if I ask how long you and he were married?” JW asked as he raised his beer, bringing the glass to his full lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp.
“Couple of years.” She nodded to one of the patrons waving his drink. “I’ll be right back.” Why she felt the need to qualify her departure or why she was compelled to continue her conversation with JW was a thought she chose not to ponder too hard.
Every table in the restaurant was occupied along with every stool at the bar. She made her way up and down, refilling her customers drinks, keeping one eye on her ex and the other on the sexy cowboy who had been flirting with her without it feeling like he was trying to pick her up. She felt the corners of her mouth tug upward. What a freaking name.
Johnnie Walker Whiskey.
She snagged the signature bottle, holding it up, catching his gaze.
“One more,” he said with a drawl, though he wasn’t southern, not at all.
“What kind of a last name is Whiskey, anyway?”
“Long story short, my great-great-grandfather changed our name from Whisken to Whiskey by accident when he signed his name as an immigrant and the officer wrote as a Y not an N. He just never bothered to correct it.”
JW had a husky voice, and he enunciated every syllable like an educated man, but there was a dangerous edge to it. He was the polar opposite of Preston with his five o’clock shadow and dark, brooding eyes. JW had broad, thick shoulders and massive biceps. He also came off as the strong, silent type who didn’t do small talk well, where Preston filled every silent pause in a conversation.
“Is your dad named after a whiskey?”
“The entire family. My dad’s name was Elijah Craig and his brother is Evan Williams. I’ve got cousins named George Dickel, Henry McKenna, James Oliver, and Virginia Black. My aunt Ezra Brooks started naming her kids after drinks, so we’ve got Margarita and Cosmo.”
“That’s crazy, you know that, right?”
He nodded. “Not that I’m going to have kids or anything, but me and my siblings decided to stop the madness.”
“Are you an uncle yet?” She glanced out into the dining room, eyeing her ex and a few of his buddies from the country club that she vaguely remembered. Preston had always kept her wrapped in this protective bubble, wanting to shield her from the shallow assholes who judged them. She seriously wondered why Preston had ever married her. When she asked the question during the divorce, he said that he honestly loved her.
Maybe he did.
But he sure as hell hadn’t trusted her with the truth, and that was a deal breaker.
“Not yet and not anytime soon since I don’t think anyone of us is in a serious relationship.”
She cleared his empty plate, wiping down the counter. “Take it from a divorcee, relationships are overrated.”
“Cheers to that.”
“It was nice meeting you, JW. My shift is about over for the night. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just the check and a list of places to go check out?”
“Right. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be back with a list.” She slipped his check into a glass, sliding it across the counter.
There wasn’t much for her to do when her shift ended at eight in the evening. Most nights she worked till close, except for Saturday and Sunday, when she opened and worked a twelve-hour day, taking Monday off, which was normally her heavy day at school this summer session. However, this week she was off before the second round of classes that were normally a full semester, but professors managed to cram the material down to a couple of very intense weeks. Not only was she looking forward to relaxing her brain, but she couldn’t wait to sleep in.
“Here.” JW held out the check with a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
“That’s way too big of a tip,” she said, starring at the hot cowboy. She didn’t know if she should be insulted or not.
“I’m going to leave it all on the counter, so either it goes in your pocket, or the other bartender’s. The choice is yours.”
“Thank you.” She went to the register, ringing up his check before ducking into the back room to collect her things. She’d split the tip, but she didn’t need to do that in front of the customer. After clocking out, she said her good-byes to her brother and made her way to the patron side of the bar, but JW wasn’t standing there.
Well, that was rude after she’d actually gone to the trouble of making a list.
She glanced around the room, letting out a sigh of relief when she spied him coming out of the restroom, holding that damn hat in his hand. He nodded in her direction, pointing to the front door.
A flutter of excitement crawled up her body. She tried to banish the feeling before it made her cheeks flush with desire she hadn’t experienced in a few years. Even her hands got clammy, which hadn’t happened since the first time she had to open a wine bottle in front of Preston and his entire family.
“Here’s a list of my favorite spots. I’m sure there are a ton more of things to do, but it will give you a good start.” She placed the piece of notebook paper in his strong, callused hand.
He shoved the list in his back pocket. “Do you like ice cream?” he asked as he held open the door.
She swallowed. “You seem like a nice guy, but I don’t date my customers.”
“I’m not asking for a date, just to share some ice cream. I saw a nice little desert shop down the street.” He pointed in the direction of Haller’s Treats, which was only a few blocks from her house.
Well, hell. She had to walk right past it. “All right, but only because it’s hotter than hell outside.”
The sun hadn’t quite disappeared behind the horizon and the humid air clung to her pores as she tucked her purse under her armpit and tried to keep up with JW’s long strides. He looked like he was taking a leisurely stroll, while she scurried on like a hamster on a spinning wheel.
He ordered a chocolate chip sugar cone, and she asked for a double chocolate in a dish.
“I can pay for my own.” Standing in front of the register, she dug into her purse.
“I’m sure you can, but my sister would have my head if I didn’t.”
“Your sister’s not here.” She took the cup he offered, letting him pay. She saw no point in insulting his kindness, but she would have to make sure he understood that she wasn’t interested.
She bit back a smile. Not interested? Hell, all she could think about was how his callused hands would feel on her back side.
They sat at one of the tables outside. This time, he kept his cowboy hat on.
“I have to ask, what’s with the hat?”
“Where I come from, this is our version of your baseball cap, which I’ve been wondering why do people wear those suckers backward? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”
“When on right, it blocks the sun from your face. When on backward, it protects the neck.”
“Is that why I don’t see a single redneck in this city?”
She laughed so hard she nearly spit out a mouth full of ice cream. “You’ll need to go to the country side in Virginia to see them.” She wiped her lips with the tiny napkin all ice cream shops give out. “So, where do you live?”
“Buhl, Idaho.” He finished his cone in like three bites.
She shivered, her teeth stinging at the idea of chewing the cold desert. “Idaho? What the hell are you doing in Baltimore?”
He shrugged. “I’ve probably had one too many drinks, so consider this me being loose in the lips since I generally don’t talk about myself to perfect strangers.” He tipped his hat up a tad, leaning back in his chair. “The last year has been difficult for me, and my family kept telling me that I needed to take a vacation. So, Georgia Moon set up a map of the United States and handed me a dart. I swore I’d go wherever the dart landed.”
“It landed on Baltimore?” She shook her head. “You poor man.”
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” he asked.
“Just be careful where you go at night. Actually, I wouldn’t walk anywhere after dark in this city.”
“That sucks.”
She nodded. “Speaking of which. I live a few blocks from here, and I should get going.”
“After what you just said, I’m walking you home.”
She took in a long slow breath. “I appreciate the company, the ice cream, and the gesture, but I’m not interested in—”
“I’m going to be rude,” he said, gently taking her by the elbow. “Part of why I need a vacation is because of a bad relationship I was in, and I’m here to clear my head, not get involved, or even have a fling. But I’m a gentleman who can in no way feel good about letting you walk alone in these streets. I’ve heard about the crime in this city—”
She patted his biceps and damn near melted. “You can walk me home.” She shouldn’t have said that. While she believed he was a harmless cowboy, she had a rule about the men who came into the bar. Hell, she had a rule about men. Stay clear of them until she was completely on her own because living with her parents generally turned single, successful men away.