Fangs But No Fangs (16 page)

Christian busied himself filling a mug of beer for Dale, who was on his regular barstool at the end of the bar. He heard Jed grunt in disbelief as he walked down the bar to serve the beer.

Well, Jed might not believe him, but he planned to prove it to himself. He intended to prove that Jolee wasn't anything special. That his newly discovered attraction to mortal women could happen with any woman. Not just Jolee. Then he could stop fixating on her. He didn't plan to act on his attraction with any mortal, but once he knew that his feelings weren't specific to Jolee, then maybe he could just get over the whole thing. He was obsessing about her, because at the moment she was a novelty. Soon, she'd be one of many mortal females who turned him on.

He walked up to a group seated near the pool table.

"Can I get you anything here?" he asked, although his gaze was on that little brunette. She was watching him, too, glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder.

The group ordered another pitcher. Christian nodded to acknowledge he'd heard, then he approached the pool table.

"Hi," he said, coming to stand beside her.

"Hi." She smiled at him. A pretty smile, although her lips were rather small. Not wide and full like… He focused on her body. Full breasts and flared hips. The perfect hourglass figure in her short skirt and tank top. But her legs were rather stocky and her ankles thick. Not those long, go-on-forever legs like…

He gritted his teeth. This wasn't working.

"Can I get you a drink," he asked.

She smiled at him, a coy little curl of her thin lips. Not straightforward and wide like…

Damn it!

"I'll take a raspberry wine cooler, sugar," she said in a high-pitched, almost squeaky voice.

He nodded, not even bothering to smile in response. This mortal woman was not going to be the one who proved his case. If anything, she'd made it even clearer that there was so much special about Jolee. But there were bound to be other women here tonight who would attract his interest.

"Hi, everyone," Jolee said into the microphone, her sweet, mellow voice rising over the chatter of the patrons.

He nearly groaned as his body reacted instantly. Boom. Like the clap of thunder overheard.

Jolee glanced skyward, then smiled. God, that smile.

"As long as the weather permits, karaoke will be going on, so please come on up and join on in. I'll be around to put out songbooks, as well as pens and request forms. Just bring the forms to me here at the booth, and I'll get your songs on for you. Thanks."

Christian forced himself to stop looking at her and headed back to the bar. He refused to let that voice get to him. Instead he filled a pitcher, setting it on the bar. Then he went to the cooler to the left of the tap, sliding the top open as he searched for a… Did the brunette want a raspberry or a strawberry wine cooler?

He settled for the wild berry, twisting off the cap and tossing it in the trashcan. He picked up the pitcher and headed back out to the tables.

Jolee was bringing a songbook to the table next to the one that ordered the pitcher. She laughed at something one of the patrons said. The rich, musical sound filled the air, surrounding Christian, warming his entire body.

He cast an irritated look in her direction, but she didn't notice. She talked animatedly to a man who regarded her with hungry eyes and a wolfish grin. Let her become interested in the man, he told himself. He shouldn't care. After all, he'd already rejected her. Sort of. Kind of. Well, whatever he'd done, he would still be better off if she wanted someone else.

He glanced over at the table again and was relieved to see she had moved on, placing books on other tables. Although—the man she'd been talking to still watched her, his eyes roaming down her body.

Irritation gripped Christian. He heard a small snap and saw that the plastic handle on the pitcher had cracked in his hand. He quickly set it down on the table, surprised by his own reaction. The men at the table didn't notice as they refilled their glasses.

At least he hadn't squeezed the bottle in his annoyance, he thought thankfully as he brought it over to the petite woman. Crushing glass bottles tended to garner a little notice.

The brunette gave him another coy smile as she accepted her drink, her fingers brushing his as she did so. And he felt… nothing. He returned to the bar only feeling frustrated. He wasn't having any luck with his new theory.

A loud clap of thunder shook the bar, and at the same time the door opened. A group of four women ran in, laughing as they shook the rain from their hair and clothes.

That had to be a sign, right?

The foursome chattered, scanning the room for an empty table, until they spotted him. Then they elbowed and whispered to each other and finally approached the bar, taking seats just a few feet from where he stood. One of these women had to have the ability to arouse him with just a few softly spoken words or a rich laugh. He was sure of it.

Jolee glared across the room to where Christian stood with a line of women seated in front of him. Two of the women leaned forward on the bar, offering generous glimpses of their attributes. The women had been there since they walked in nearly two hours ago. Christian had only left them to distribute drinks, then he was right back, basking in their attention.

She stopped watching them and concentrated on the woman at the mic singing a good version of "Redneck Woman" by Gretchen Wilson.

The woman finished, and Jolee applauded along with many of the other patrons. She noticed Christian and his harem didn't applaud. They were too busy flirting outrageously.

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her work.

"Hitch, come on up here and sing us a song."

Her loyal customer, who sat in his corner with his pitcher of beer, approached the microphone. She smiled at the odd man, finding him rather endearing, even when she didn't get a smile back.

She'd jokingly called the man Hitch after his amazing rendition of "Hitching a Ride" last night, and since then, he'd signed his name that way on his request forms.

She put on his song, and he started another of his amazing, shouting performances. She watched him for a moment, then glanced back to Christian. He was still there— still with the women.

She slipped out of the booth and marched behind the bar.

"Christian, can I speak to you for a moment?" she asked, although she hoped her tone told him her request was really an order.

He nodded and followed her down the bar away from his harem. The women watched him leave, displeasure clear on their faces.

Good, Jolee thought, let them be annoyed. She was. And she didn't want to be, and she shouldn't be. After all, she definitely didn't want to be with Christian if he was this fickle, and so openly looking for just a physical relationship. She stopped and faced him. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and regarded her with those aggravatingly unreadable eyes.

"I don't care if you chat with the patrons," she told him, "but not at the expense of the other customers."

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I don't want my other customers neglected because you are too busy flirting."

"You are jealous," he said with one of his half-smiles.

She clenched her teeth. His little smile was no longer cute, just very, very annoying. "I couldn't care less who you talk to— or flirt with. Just do the job that you had to have and I'll be perfectly happy."

He raised an eyebrow in response but didn't say anything. She felt like screaming at his cool reaction, but instead she spun and stalked back to the sound system, just as Hitch finished roaring his way through another British Invasion classic.

She wouldn't let Christian get to her. What was the point? His behavior tonight made it pretty clear that he wasn't wasting any time being upset about the fact that she wouldn't have a casual fling with him. She glanced in his direction. He was back with the women, although he appeared to be excusing himself. She didn't care. Well, she did just a little, but that was only because he'd told her that she'd made him feel something he hadn't for a long time. Obviously his idea of a long time and her idea were two very different things.

"Hey there."

Jolee looked up to see one of the men who had been trying to flirt with her all evening.

She smiled. "Hi. How are you? Having fun?"

"I am," he said with a big grin. "But I'm wondering when we get to hear you sing. You do sing, don't you?"

"I do," she said. "I guess I could sneak in a song."

"Just for me?"

"Sure. Just for you." Maybe singing would make her forget that Christian was really making her miserable.

Christian noticed the moment the guy who'd been watching Jolee all night got up and approached her in the booth.

As usual, jealousy twisted his gut, just as it had all night, every time that guy talked to her. Here he'd accused her of being jealous, and he was the one who couldn't stand watching her talk to him.

But the man quickly returned to his seat, although he still watched her as if he'd like to be doing far more than just looking. Christian glanced over to the bar where the women stared at him with the same avarice as Jolee's admirer, but he didn't feel any satisfaction at their hungry gazes. The point of talking to them wasn't to make Jolee jealous. The purpose was to see if he could be attracted to one of them. And he couldn't. Not even the tiniest twinge of lust. He could feel the hunger when he looked at them, but no desire.

"Well, I guess it's my turn at the mic tonight," Jolee said, drawing his attention back to her. She put a CD in the player, then came out from behind the booth to stand at the microphone on the stage.

Her hair had started to loosen from her usual bun, tendrils clinging to the dampness of her overheated skin. She looked flushed and a little disheveled, like she'd just made love.

Christian pictured himself against her warmth, her body tight against him, her long legs circled around his hips, her lush mouth pressed to his. He pulled in a breath, trying to dispel the image.

The music started and Jolee began singing a song that asked did he want to dance with her. Her voice started out sweet, coaxing her partner to join her, but her plea became more persuasive, more seductive as the song progressed.

Christian watched, mesmerized. The words of the song might have referred to dancing, but the way she sang them implied so much more. His already aroused body ached with each of her honeyed pleas. Desire pulsed through him, responding to her voice, to the way she held the microphone, the way her mouth moved with each verse. Her hips swayed, her eyes closed.

She was no longer talking about dancing, she was talking about making love. No matter what the lyrics said.

He knew it. He glanced around. And so did every other man in the room. But no other man was going to get that chance. Only he was going to make love to her.

Rain pattered on the roof of the bar. The steady sound didn't block out the deafening quiet inside the bar. Occasionally Jolee could hear the clink of glasses or the slide of a chair, but otherwise just the rain.

She sat in her office, forcing herself to concentrate on the money and receipts. This was her most successful night to date— a successful night, period. The kind of night that would assure her a profitable business and a nice income. She knew she should be thrilled. Instead she just felt irritated and ready to be somewhere else, namely at home in her bed.

More glasses clinked in the barroom. Christian washing glasses. She'd told him to go home, that she'd handle closing, but he'd insisted he would stay.

"You can't walk home in this weather," he'd said. But she would enjoy the cool rain on her skin. Although it would probably turn to steam as soon as it touched her. She was that furious.

Christian was enough to make any woman insane— and infuriated. First he spent most of the night flirting like a sailor on leave with every woman in the bar. Then the last part of the night, he'd been hovering around her, shooting daggers at any man who so much as smiled at her. He'd even been snappy with her as if she'd been the one flirting all night. As if he had any right to be snippy in the first place. He was the one who said he wasn't interested in a real relationship.

Argh! Men!

She hit the total button on the calculator with more force than necessary, then she wrote down the total in her accounting ledger. She just wanted to leave. She knew running away wasn't going to fix her problem, but it was the best course of action tonight. She was hot and sweaty and miserable. And she'd had it up to here with Christian Young.

Thunder rumbled again in the distance.

"Jolee."

She jumped, spinning in her chair toward the door.

Jed stood there. "Sorry to startle you. Just pokin' my head in to say good night."

Jed was leaving? Leaving her alone with Christian? Not good.

"It's really raining," she pointed out. "Maybe you should wait until it lets up a little."

"It's fine. I'm not about to melt. Plus, I need to rest."

"Are you okay?"

Jed waved a dismissive hand. "Hell, I'm all right. Just old."

She gave him a sympathetic grin. "I could walk down to your cabin with you."

"Now, I ain't that old. I reckon I can make it there myself. Stay right here. Christian's almost done with the side work anyhow."

She nodded. Well, the sooner she could leave the bar, the sooner she'd get out of Christian's presence.

"Good night," she said.

Jed nodded and disappeared out of the doorway. Jolee continued to watch the door, listening to Jed say good night to Christian. The old man also muttered something about "getting his head out of his ass," but Jolee wasn't sure who that comment was directed toward. She shook her head, then returned her attention, or as much of it as she could, to cashing out. After about ten minutes she was done, and she didn't hear any more noise coming from the barroom.