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He started to turn away, but stopped when the blonde put her hand on his arm. “What do you like to drink? When you’re off duty.” Her eyes widened slightly as she studied him.
She was a good-looking woman. So was her friend. Both of them were well above the age of consent, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d picked up a willing tourist for a little after-hours recreation.
But he wasn’t feeling it this time. Staying up for most of the night with the red ale had tapped his energy supply. Even for willing ladies.
He managed to keep his smile in place. “I’m a beer man myself, so what I like probably wouldn’t appeal to you. Let me get you that menu.”
He picked up a menu from the other end of the bar and returned it to the two clearly miffed women. He couldn’t blame them. After all, they’d just come across one of the few men on the Western Slope of the Rockies who wasn’t up for a little slap-and-tickle in his off-duty hours.
He poured a few more beers and mixed a couple of margaritas. The evening was winding down, and the tip jar looked a little lean. Apparently, he hadn’t been dispensing charm with his usual generous hand, and nobody had wanted to talk about craft beer much, either.
Don’t let yourself go slack. You still need to pay your rent for another month.
Someone raised a hand farther down the bar, and he headed in that direction, ratcheting up his smile again. Another chance to do his thing. Showtime.
There was a break in the crowd and he recognized the person who’d signaled him: Ruth Colbert, his sister’s part-time employer and full-time friend. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Ruth at the tavern before, but then, she was a single mother who probably didn’t go out much.
Although, now that he got a good look at her, he wasn’t entirely sure why she wasn’t here a lot more often on dates. Ruth was hot. She wore a denim shirt over a well-fitted T-shirt and a turquoise and silver choker that accented the slender column of her neck. Her short, dark hair looked slightly mussed, as if she’d just dragged her fingertips through it.
Something about the way her hair hung around her face made him want to slide his own fingers through those silky strands.
Which, now that he thought about it, was sort of a weird thing. He’d just backed away from a pair of agreeable ladies who’d angled for a little quality time with the bartender. And now he was getting turned on by mussed brunette curls. Losing your concentration, Liam.
Ruth watched him with a slightly concerned look. Given that he’d been frozen in place as he studied her hair, she had a right to wonder just what the hell he was thinking about.
“Hi.” He slid a napkin in front of her. “Out for the evening?”
She nodded. “It’s been a while. I thought I’d see what’s going on in Antero nightlife these days.” She took a quick survey of the tavern. “The crowd seems to have gone down. Last month you were bursting at the seams—almost literally.”
“It’s close to the end of the season. We’ve still got the die-hard extreme sports guys, but most of the others have taken off for places that actually have spring.”
She gave him a dry smile. “We have spring. There’s that fifteen minutes every June.”
He chuckled. “Oh yeah, that pause between snowstorms. What can I get you to drink?”
“You have any of Bec’s stuff?”
“Nope. So far Bec’s mainly supplying Wyatt. Once she ramps up the production, she’ll probably start selling to Black Mountain and any of the other locals who are interested.”
Wyatt was Bec’s significant other. He was part owner of a successful restaurant—correction, “gastropub”—in Denver, although he was getting ready to sell it. At the moment, his pub sold everything Bec produced.
“Okay, give me whatever you think is good.” Ruth shrugged. “I trust your judgment.”
“I can probably be trusted to choose a good beer. And a few other things.” He gave her a quick grin before heading for the taps. He had a nice chocolate stout from Fort Collins that people seemed to like a lot. He poured a pint, then headed back.
Ruth had turned so she faced the room, her elbows resting on the bar. Not much was going on at the moment—a couple of pool games and some people trying to dance in the corner. The jukebox was barely audible above the clamor of the crowd.
