Sherri laughed. “That she is. But this is her first time, so go easy on her, ‘k?”
“Mmm. A sacrificial virgin. Been a while since we’ve had one of those.” His blue eyes glittered like finely cut sapphires. Or aquamarines. Or both.
“Play nice, Jake. I promised her you’d behave.”
He chuckled. “Sorry, Maggie, couldn’t resist.” He winked and turned back to Sherri. “We’ll be good, Sher. Taryn will totally kick my ass otherwise.”
Maggie had a hard time imagining anyone kicking his ass. Even under the blue button down and jeans – the standard uniform of the Pub staff – he looked like he might have been carved from solid marble.
“I’ll be out in just a sec, Jake,” Sherri said, handing him a CD. “Get this loaded, will you?”
“You got it.” Then he was gone, and Maggie released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“Relax, girlfriend,” Sherri laughed. “Jake’s married and a daddy. And insanely in love with his wife, by the way. Lucky bitch.”
“Are they all like that?”
“Yep, pretty much.”
“Shit.”
Sherri laughed. “Yeah. Come on. Sit at the bar and have a drink. It’ll loosen you up. I’ll go on first.”
Minutes later, Maggie found herself in the shadows of the bar as the lights dimmed and the music began. Sherri appeared on the small raised platform, looking dazzling as always. Maggie fidgeted nervously, fighting the sudden urge to throw up, or pass out, or both.
“A little nervous?” the bartender asked, startling her enough that her rear-end left the bar stool entirely for a moment or two. He was huge, just like the other guy, but a bit leaner maybe. And gorgeous. All hard, masculine features over a clean-shaven face. Sinfully long, dark lashes that had no business on a face that stunningly male. Dark hair that captured the lights and made them dance in it. Blue eyes deeper than the ocean. Maggie could only nod, afraid that anything that came out of her mouth at this point would be utter nonsense.
“Don’t worry, we don’t bite. Sherri thought you might like one of these.” He placed a drink in front of her, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Maggie eyed the glass uncertainly. She’d already had a few shots of what remained of her grandfather’s Irish whiskey before she left the house, just to get herself out the door and into Sherri’s car. Not being much of a drinker, she was not particularly adept at holding her liquor, but she figured her supercharged case of the jitters was probably burning off the alcohol before it could fully absorb into her bloodstream. She glanced back to the stage where Sherri was seductively removing the ankle-length trench coat she wore, and decided that she definitely needed more alcohol if she was going to pull this off.
With trembling fingers, she lifted the glass and tipped it into her mouth as she’d seen her grandfather do. Whatever it was, it burned like crazy but went down smooth. Much more so than the cheap stuff she had at home. She coughed a bit as her eyes started watering.
“Thanks,” she rasped out in a choked voice.
The bartender laughed. It was a rich, deep sound that made her feel all warm inside. Or maybe that was the bourbon. She curved her index and middle fingers toward her, indicating that she wanted another. He smiled, and she couldn’t help thinking how beautiful that smile was.
Clearly the alcohol was playing tricks with her, because she’d never been quite so stricken simply by looking at a man before. Now it had happened twice in one night.
“I take it this isn’t your day job,” he said as he poured her another drink.
“It’s that obvious?”
“It’s very subtle, really. I doubt anyone else would notice.”
He was being kind, but she appreciated it all the same. Men typically weren’t all that kind to her, if they noticed her at all. And why was he talking to her when he could be watching Sherri dance?
It took a moment for her to remember that tonight she wasn’t her usual, boring self. Tonight she was a temptress, a seductress. The veils and the mask were proof of that. And that explained everything. There was no way in hell a man like him would ever be talking to a woman like her otherwise.
The bartender folded his arms on the bar between them and leaned in close as if to share a confidence. He smelled heavenly. Feeling bold, Maggie took a deeper sniff. She’d never smelled a man like that before. She had the sudden strange desire to bury her face in his neck and take a little nibble, see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
“You don’t have to dance if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well. They’ll understand.”