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The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. That was another thing. He smiled a lot. Maybe too much.
“I’ll let you know,” he offered. “Got plans for the weekend?”
She shook her head once. She and Shawn were planning on painting their tiny apartment—Cutter was letting them rent the addition at the back of the bar until they found a “more suitable place.” As far as she and Shawn were concerned, it was perfectly suitable.
She did need to talk to Cutter about finding a resale shop. She wanted to get some bicycles so she and Shawn could explore. But none of that was any of Fisher’s business so she didn’t say a word.
“All that?” He set his beer on the counter. “Damn, Kylee. Sounds like you’ll wear yourself out.” He paused. “What am I doing? Working. But thanks for asking.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that slipped out.
“Ha, there it is.” Fisher raised his arms over his head. “We have a smile, people.”
She shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Which really irritated her. She needed to be more careful around him.
Two men came into the bar, and one nodded. “Fisher.”
Kylee watched as the three exchanged the standard male-shoulder-slap thing that seemed to have replaced a customary handshake.
“Hey, pretty lady.” One of them sat on the bar stool. “Jarvis is back.”
She looked at him. “What does Jarvis want to drink?”
“A pint of stout.” He grinned. “And an appetizer. But we can start with your number.”
She pulled off a pint of beer, and placed the glass on the counter. “Your drink.” She faced the other man and asked, “Going to try something other than a Dr. Pepper tonight?”
“Come on, Mario,” Jarvis nudged him. “Man up.”
Mario laughed. “No.”
Kylee put a large glass with ice on the counter and nodded at the soda machine along the back wall. “You know where it is.”
Mario nodded. “Thanks, Kylee.”
The three took up their places at the pool table and Kylee got back to work.
People steadily streamed in. It was Thursday night, so most were locals. She was beginning to recognize a few faces. Thursdays were the night Janet and two other teachers came in for their “book club.” But Kylee had listened to their conversations and she’d yet to hear them mention a single book.
There were plenty of customers from the university’s vet school—like Fisher, Mario and Jarvis. Some were in scrubs, others not. She was beginning to tell the difference between the staffers and the upper-level students by their demeanor. The students all looked exhausted and stressed out.
Then there were ranch workers from Boone Ranch. Apparently the Boones were a pretty big deal in Stonewall Crossing, the founding family of the town and the veterinarian school. According to Cutter they owned most of the county and employed half the people who lived here. To own that much property, employ so many people, run a working ranch and run a bed-and-breakfast on part of their property, the Boones had to be loaded. The number of Boone employees she’d served supported that. Looking at Fisher it was hard to imagine the wealth he came from, he acted humble and...regular.
Her eyes swept the bar again. Normally a few patrons would sit at the bar and watch whatever sports Cutter put on. Tonight, one of them—a Boone employee—was worked up about something. He was radiating hostility, something she knew well. The rigid set of his jaw, the short, jerky movements—signs he might be trouble. She shook her head. What would be signs of trouble in Las Vegas didn’t always apply here. Stonewall Crossing was a very different sort of town. Quiet and slow and peaceful. The sort of place she’d seen on television, dreamed of, but never expected to live in.
A chorus of laughter came from Cutter and his cronies. They played cards twice a week. They told bad jokes, laughed a little too loud—and were completely adorable. For all Cutter’s outspoken opinions and cranky temperament, Kylee was getting pretty fond of her ancient landlord and savior.
Her eyes swept the room, taking in the expressions and actions of each customer. It was a habit she’d picked up when she was working with Jesse. Even though she wasn’t looking for a handoff or someone who’d make an easy target, she still “cased the joint.”
Only one thing stood out. The ranch worker in the corner was glaring at Fisher with pure, unfiltered aggression. The kind of aggression that usually didn’t end well. Her gaze shifted to Fisher Boone, towering above every other man in the room. His cowboy hat was pushed back on his head and his eyes were narrowed as he watched Jarvis make the shot at the pool table. He had no clue he was being sized up for a takedown.
Whatever the problem was, Kylee hoped the ranch worker would reconsider. Fisher was a mountain of a man. He had a fit build, big hands and wasn’t knocking back alcohol—the way this guy was. If there was a fight, Fisher would win.
“Big fellow,” Cutter nudged her.
&n
bsp; She nodded, proud that her boss’s sudden appearance didn’t have her jumping out of her skin.
