Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Dave
E ven though I’d been to hundreds of bars in nearly as many cities, The Mountain Goat was rapidly becoming my favorite spot. And I had big plans for my visit tonight. So I settled in at the bar, taking in the scene .
For much of the year I lived on the road with my teammates. I’d been to chic urban dance clubs as well as quiet country dives. There was literally nothing in a bar that could surprise me anymore. And I hadn’t come to The Mountain Goat in Tuxbury, Vermont to be wowed. But there was something about this little roadside place that charmed me .
These past four weeks I’d discovered that Vermont had a way of making everything more genuine. This bar wasn’t phoning in its rustic decor. The place had clearly stood here for ages. It had weathered clapboards outside and dark paneling inside. The bar was a long expanse of walnut, polished to a high shine. Every few feet a votive candle burned in a little glass cup. Since Vermont took its craft brewing seriously, the beer list was impressive. I even liked the music .
The best thing about the place, though, wasn’t a thing at all. It was the bartender .
Zara. Even her name was exotic. She had wavy black hair down her back, lean limbs and cheekbones that meant business. Hers was a dark-eyed, serious brand of sexy .
She wasn’t even my type. Or so I’d thought. She was skinnier than the women I usually picked up. But it worked on her. She had graceful arms and an elegant neck. I spent a long time looking at her neck, and thinking of how it would taste beneath my tongue. And whenever she strode the length of the bar, I imagined her slim legs wrapped around my body .
Watching her was like rediscovering espresso after a month of weak airplane coffee. She’d turned my crank the first time I laid eyes on her. But making my move had taken awhile, because I kept coming in here with my teammates .
Tonight I’d decided I wanted a taste. Badly. So I’d wised up and arrived here alone. It was the best way to get what I wanted .
And I wanted .
She and I had been watching each other all evening, even though we’d barely had a conversation. But I was a patient man. When the right moment came, I’d turn on the charm. I was willing to play the professional athlete card, too. Although something told me that swagger wouldn’t be the right play for Zara. She might be too forthright to care that I got paid millions to fly around the rink a hundred nights a year .
It wasn’t a hardship to bide my time during her shift, drinking excellent beer. In fact, it was downright entertaining early on. First had come a rather amusing spat with her brother. Watching Zara go toe to toe with him had done things to me. When she’d squared her shoulders and lifted her perfect chin, I’d felt my body respond. There was a spark in her eye and a flush on her cheekbones. I wanted her to turn all that fire my way .
But things seemed to go downhill for my girl as the night wore on. The door opened to admit a big, bearded man with a couple of his friends. There was nothing too interesting about him, except for the way Zara’s eyes widened when he came through the door. She’d looked away, as if embarrassed by something. Her body language changed after that, her spine lengthening even more. Her face tensed .
I was good at two things in this life: shooting a six-ounce rubber puck into a net, and reading people. The second thing actually made the first one easier. The ability to read the opposing goalie well was what made me such a valuable sniper .
My mind wasn’t on hockey, though. It was on Zara. And something about the bearded guy was bothering my favorite bartender. I could sense Zara’s disappointment. There was a story there, but I didn’t know what it was .
After that, a perky little blonde came in, sat down at the bar, and ordered a salad. I overheard Zara and this cute little stranger discussing the men who’d come in beforehand. “Watch out for that crew,” Zara said. “The Shipley boys think they’re God’s gift .”
The perky blonde didn’t seem to heed Zara’s advice. Not fifteen minutes later she relocated to a seat at the bearded guy’s booth .
And then? The whole bar watched as the blonde left with the big bearded guy .
Zara continued to serve the remaining customers with perfect efficiency and grace, but she didn’t look as fiery anymore. Instead, her dark eyes were downcast. And for the first time since I’d noticed Zara, her shoulders had an unhappy set to them .
Still, she watched me. I felt her eyes on me, just as mine liked to dart over to check her out .
Customers trickled out one by one as the hour grew late. The kitchen closed and the cook went home. Soon it was down to a table of college kids in the corner, myself at one end of the bar, and another dude at the opposite end .
That other guy was a piece of work. He was older than Zara or myself. The gray in his hair made him in his late forties, if I had to guess. But he was lean and muscular. What made him stand out was his mean eyes .
Zara didn’t like him, either. She was very polite, but she avoided eye contact .
The dude didn’t appreciate that. The more distance she kept, the worse his leer. His eyes were practically stapled to her chest. “Zara, honey,” I heard him say as he fished out his wallet to settle up. “Griff Shipley ain’t the only man in the county. You’re feeling lonely, you can come keep me warm anytime .”
That’s when she locked eyes with me for the first time in an hour. As if to say, Do you believe this bullshit ?
Grabbing his credit card off the bar, she gave him a tight smile. “If you’re cold you can turn up that electric blanket, Jimmy .”
He snorted. “Your problem is that you’re too uptight. Maybe if you loosened up a little, Griff Shipley wouldn’a split on you .”
“Is that so?” She slapped a receipt and a pen down in front of him, and that was that. The fool went home alone not two minutes later .
She let out a sigh of relief when the door closed on him. “Last call,” she said to me as she wiped down the bar. “Can I get you anything else ?”
“Not unless you’ll let me buy you a drink. Seems like you might need to unwind after that last bit of bullshit .”
She gave me a wry smile. “You’re sweet to ask. But I can’t accept. Company policy .”
“Uh-huh.” I took out my wallet and put a fifty on the bar. “First of all, I’m not sweet .”
Her eyes widened a little when I said that. Now I had her attention .
“And secondly, company policy my ass . It’s you who calls the shots in this place. Nobody else but you. I can see why you need a handy excuse, though. If you couldn’t pull the ‘company policy’ out of your pocket sometimes, the men would be buying the sexy bartender drinks left and right all night long, I bet. You’d never get a moment’s peace .”
A smile stole across her features. “Yeah, sure. I have to keep a stick back here behind the bar just to beat back all the men .”
“You don’t need that stick, gorgeous, because you give ’em the evil eye and they run off, knowing they’re not man enough for you. But every guy who drinks in this bar has the secret, fervent wish that fortune would smile down on him just long enough for him to earn an hour of your undivided attention .”
Zara rolled her dark eyes, but a telltale blush splashed her cheekbones. “You know how to lay it on thick .”
“No need.” I shook my head. “Just telling you how it is. Now I think you should do a shot with me, and we’ll toast your unapproachability .”
She laughed, and her eyes lit up for the first time tonight. “You are smooth, mister. I’m almost tempted .”
“ Almost ? Damn .”
She smiled. “There aren’t any taxis out here in the woods, and I’ve been pouring your beers all night. If you do a shot with me, it won’t be safe to drive away from here. And it’s quitting time .”
“Well. Now that you mention it…” I reached across the bar and laid a hand very gently over her smooth one. Our gazes collided as I stroked my thumb across the back of her hand. “Driving after doing shots with you wouldn’t be such a great plan. I’d have to stick around for a couple hours until it wears off .”
Zara waited a beat before retrieving her hand from beneath mine. “ I see .”
“Do you?” I put both elbows on the bar and leaned forward. She was trying to play it cool, but my not-so-subtle message was getting through. I saw the blush beginning to creep across those fine cheekbones. She and I had chemistry, damn it. We’d been eye-fucking each other all night. “Look. I think you had a stressful evening. And I’m really good at stress relief. Like, pro level .”
She braced both hands on the bar and smiled at me. “Are you always this forward ?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “Some women can’t handle the truth. But I’ve watched you run this place. You’re in charge of everything that happens inside these walls, and I’ll bet that gets old. I’m thinking you might like to hand over the reins once in a while. Let someone else take charge. Tonight that someone is gonna be me .”
Time slowed down as our gazes locked again. Eddie Vedder sang “Black” over the sound system while she and I held a well-matched stare - down .
I won it .
She turned away and grabbed the rag on the bar, wiping invisible spills off the gleaming wood. “Awfully sure of yourself .”
“It works for me,” I rumbled. “Complaints are few and far between .”
The college kids in the corner picked that minute to push back their chairs. They waved to Zara and trailed out the door .
Leaving me as the very last customer in the place .
Turning her back on me, Zara left the bar to see to their table. She pocketed a tip and grabbed four beer bottles with one sweep of her hand. Then she wiped the table down .
I waited .
She returned to the bar and ditched the empties in a bin .
“You grow up around here?” I asked her as she turned her attention to closing out the cash register. I was perfectly capable of bland, nice-guy small talk if it put a woman at ease .
“Look,” she said, her eyes on her work. “Let’s skip the twenty questions. How about you keep your trap shut for a couple of minutes so I can finish up here. If you’re good and quiet, I’ll take you upstairs with me .”
That shut me up for a second. She’d beat me at my own game. But I wasn’t going to complain. “Upstairs, huh? Nice commute .”
“It works for me. Especially in a moment like this. If I had to give you directions to somewhere else, I might decide you’re not worth the trouble .”
“No you wouldn’t,” I said quietly. “You’ve been watching me , too .”
Her dark eyes lifted briefly to acknowledge the truth in this statement. But she didn’t admit it out loud. “Do me a favor,” she said instead. “There’s a security camera in the corner over the juke box. Walk toward it slowly .”
“Sure, gorgeous. I’ll do even better.” I took my wallet out of my back pocket and fished out my driver’s license. Then I walked toward the security camera, looking it in the eye, and held up my license .
Zara was watching me when I turned around again. “Thank you. A girl has to be careful .”
“I’ll bet.” I sat back down on the bar stool .
“I’m Zara,” she said in a low voice .
“I know. Learned that the second time I came in here. I’m Dave Beringer .”
“Well, Dave.” She closed the register drawer. “Don’t move off that stool for a minute. I’m going to lock this in the safe, and then we’ll go .”
“Take your time,” I said. “I’ve got all night long .”
Her eyes flared as she turned away .
Not a half-hour later, I knew I’d have her gripping the headboard of her bed as I took her hard from behind. And a minute or two after that I’d make her sob my name .