Page 34 of Breaking All The Rules
“That’s The Lumberjack? Where they do the line dancing?”
He grimaced the same way he had at Annie’s that morning when she’d mentioned the L-word. Clearly the thought of line dancing gave him heartburn. “Yep,” he said. “The finest bar in all of Eastern Colorado.”
Bea didn’t need to be asked twice. She suspected the people she’d met around town today were probably different from the people who went out to a bar on a Saturday night. “Sure. I’ll just…” She glanced down at her clothes. “Change my outfit.”
He shrugged. “Don’t do it on my behalf. You look great.”
Bea blinked. Well…bless his heart. But with all the rose-colored glasses in the world, great was stretching it. Sure, her hair was ah-mazing, but the rest was a catastrophic mix of laissez-faire and what-the-hell. Austin was good for her ego, but she was starting to doubt his powers of observation…
“Thanks, but I think, like my hair, it’s time for a change. Bars are not the place for sweatpants.” It could, of course, be argued that sweats should be worn nowhere in public other than on people who were competing in some kind of sporting event or physical fitness activity, but Bea was having a good time making up her own rules as she went along.
“Okay.” He pointed to the door. “I’ll wait downstairs for you.”
She nodded. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
He cocked an eyebrow, his face indulgently amused. “Okay.”
Bea just smiled as he walked out the door, then made it downstairs with a minute to spare.
CHAPTER TEN
Even though the days were getting warmer, it was still nippy at six on a Saturday evening in Eastern Colorado. Bea’s breath fogged into the cool air as she and Austin walked briskly down the main street to Jack’s. She felt good about herself even if her jeans were a little tight in the waist. But it was amazing how confident a pair of red boots could make a woman feel, and the way her khaki fleece complemented her new swishy hair had been the cherry on top.
With a bra and her Saturday panties, she felt like she was walking down the red carpet at Cannes.
“Entrez-vous,” Austin mimicked as he opened the heavy wooden door to the bar, and Bea smiled at him. His answering flirty grin caused her heart to skip a beat.
The low notes of a Waylon Jennings song and a cloud of warmth engulfed Bea as she stepped inside, and she sighed at the instant relief. Heat seeped into her bones and melted her cold face and tingled in the tips of her ears and fingers. She waited for him to shrug out of his jacket and hang it on one of the many hooks near the door while she unzipped her polar fleece but kept it on. With Austin indicating she should precede him again, she walked toward the bar.
She wouldn’t say the place was jumping exactly. Not in an LA way, anyway. But about half the booths were full and half the stools along the long bar were occupied. There was a group of people milling around the jukebox, and some were dancing on the small square of floor to the side of the jukebox obviously provided for the activity. Beyond that, through an open door, she could see more people playing pool.
“Junior!”
Bea’s gaze landed on a good-looking guy standing behind the bar who was smiling at them with a wide grin. Like the rest of him, the man’s smile was very nice. “Hey, Tucker,” Austin said with a sigh as Bea’s gaze wandered to the bartender’s biceps. That was some major arm candy right there.
Two other guys on the stools closest to the best-looking bartender Bea had ever seen—and hello, she’d lived in LA for fifteen years, where almost every bar dude was an impossibly handsome, out-of-work actor—half turned in their seats and also greeted Austin.
“Hey, Drew.” Austin nodded. “Hey, boss.”
Boss? Bea realized Arlo was one of the guys sitting at the bar.
“Isn’t this past your bedtime, Junior?” Arlo asked.
“Quit it, dude,” the guy called Drew said. “I bet he’s got a written note from his mommy to be out past curfew.”
Bea blinked at the easy back-and-forth. These guys were obviously used to this kind of communication, but a part of her—the bit that felt uneasy about their age difference—wanted to leap to Austin’s defense. But, apart from the initial sigh, he took it all in stride, grinning good-naturedly and saying, “Bite me, assholes,” and Bea relaxed.
Okay, this was…smack talk. And Austin could obviously hold his own.
With their banter done, three sets of eyes turned to Bea. “Austin,” Drew said, “I think you need to introduce us to your friend.”
Austin smiled at her as he said, “This is Beatriss.” Even in front of these guys and a half-full bar, he put that sexy little inflection on the last syllable of her name that had Bea melting into a puddle on the floor.
“Hey, Beatrice,” Tucker said, holding out his hand.
“Bea,” she said quickly, accepting a shake from both Tucker and Drew. The latter was also a hottie—tall, broad, and waaaay closer to her age. They all were.
“Arlo. You remember Beatrice. From the other day.”
