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Her eyes widened. “Are you Amish?” He didn’t look Amish. His clothes were normal street clothes and he didn’t have a beard—not that a beard made a man Amish these days. Hipsters were everywhere.
He smiled. “Yes, I am.”
Disappointment deflated a bit of her interest. Figures. All the good ones are ether gay or Amish—said no one ever.
She frowned. Amish, yet he was drinking beer in a bar. Weird. “What are you doing in Bensalem?”
The way he watched her made it impossible to look away. “I’ve come to collect something that belongs to me.”
That sounded cryptic and all sorts of Amish-espionage-like. Maybe he had a meeting with the Amish people that owned the market in Bristol.
A sharp whistle cut across the bar. “Anna, you got other tables.”
Adam scowled across the bar at Kyle. She gave him an apologetic smile. “I gotta go take some orders. I’ll be back to check on you in a few.”
“Don’t take too long.”
Holy moly. If she had a bucket of ice, she’d dump it down her pants. It should be illegal to look at a woman like that.
She rushed back to the bar and got to work refilling the glasses she grabbed along the way, making sure not to look in Kyle’s direction.
“Friend of yours?”
Yeah, she figured he’d notice the guy she’d been panting over for the last five minutes. “Just a customer.” She wanted him to finish his beer, so she had an excuse to go back to his booth without looking needy.
“He’s watching you like he knows you.”
He was watching her like he could see through her clothes. And she liked it. “I hadn’t noticed.”
No way he was Amish. Not with those eyes. That left only two possibilities. He was a liar, or he was the excommunicated ex-Amish sort that didn’t follow any of the churchy rules. She didn’t know much about the culture, but she knew enough to know that such a sexy specimen did not equal any sort of simple. This man radiated complicated.
It should have been repellent, but instead it drew her in. She wanted an excuse to keep talking to him, a reason to find out exactly what brought him into her workplace. What had he traveled so far to collect and how long did he intend to stay in town?
She did a quick circuit around the bar, her sole objective to fill everyone’s orders and buy a few undisturbed minutes to find out more about Amish Adam and the horse he rode in on. But when she went to visit his table again, he was gone.
Disappointment gutted her on an irrational level. Tears threatened to prick her eyes as she searched for him. Maybe he went to the bathroom.
She checked the men’s room. Empty.
There wasn’t a logical excuse for her feeling upset that he’d left without saying goodbye, so she channeled her emotions into anger, now pissed he’d made her care in only a few minutes. He was just some guy passing through. Why should she care that he left?
She collected his glass and stilled. Unfolding the bill, he’d left for a tip, her jaw unhinged.
Was this a mistake or some sort of joke? She scanned the bar again. He was definitely gone.
“What’s the matter?”
She jumped as Kyle spoke directly behind her. She slid the hundred-dollar bill into her apron pocket. “That guy...”
“Did he stiff you or something?”
“Or something.” Were the Amish rich?
“Don’t sweat it. He probably won’t be back. You up for another movie tonight?”
She needed her own bed and a solid eight hours sleep. “I’m beat. How about a rain check?”
He hid his disappointment well and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “How many days until graduation?”
The closer it got the slower time seemed to move. “Too many. But I promise we’ll do another movie night this week.”
“I’m holding you to that promise.” Giving her ponytail a tug, he returned to the bar.
Her eyes roamed the bar again, but the man she wanted was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Eleven
Adam waited patiently in the shadows as the last patron exited the bar, leaving only Annalise and the fair-haired male inside. The evening had cooled considerably, yet Adam’s skin burned, his blood pumped too fast to remain still.
The neon light flickered off, casting the walkway in inky shadows. Voices drifted from the back of the buildings, luring Adam’s silent footsteps toward the alley. A growl rumbled in his chest as the male followed Annalise into the dark lot.
Thick, masculine desire radiated from the other male. Adam gripped a nearby metal signpost, fighting the urge to shred him to ribbons. A growl purred low in his gut as his eyes shifted with a predatory glare and the metal beam folded under the pressure of his grip.
“You sure you don’t want to watch a movie?” The male lay his hand on her arm and the tendons in Adam’s hands contracted, his nails hardening into claws and elongating into lethal razor-sharp blades.
