Oklahoma Christmas Blues

by Maggie Shayne

Chapter Two

  “What we need around here is someone to be the badass,” Joey McIntyre said. He was the youngest of her three cousins, and a favorite of his niece and two nephews. Everything was fun to him. Apparently even hiring a new bouncer.

  Sophia stood behind the garland-draped bar, polishing glasses and pretending not to eavesdrop on the conversation between her triad of cousin-slash-bosses and the handsome guy they were interviewing for the position. She’d been tending bar for three nights and watching for hints that her dream life was right here waiting for her, but so far nothing. However, she figured seventy-two hours wasn’t really long enough to give Santa’s method a chance. She’d give it until Christmas. But not one minute longer.

  Glancing skyward, she muttered, “You hear that, Sinterklass?”

  Jason, the oldest of the three, and a natural born leader, said, “We don’t need a badass. We need someone who can be pleasant, friendly, and polite, but who can step up should trouble arise.”

  Right, she thought. A bouncer. They wouldn’t call him a bouncer, of course. The Long Branch was a respectable saloon that catered to tourists, a family-friendly place with an old west theme and dinner theater on weekends and holidays. But where booze flowed, bad behavior often followed. Even here.Robert, aka “the brooder” nodded in agreement with his older brother Jason. “We want someone who doesn’t seem all that intimidating—until and unless it’s called for.”

  The applicant filled the bill, she thought, surreptitiously turning the country Christmas music down just a little bit more, but keeping her eyes on the four men at the round table. One man in particular.

  He wasn’t bodybuilder big. He had more of a whipcord kind of a build, but his biceps looked as hard as iron and that tight T-shirt he was wearing emphasized a chest that some girls would want to write home about.

  Not her, of course. She liked intellectual men.

  Yeah, cause that’s worked out so well for me up until now.

  “I can handle that,” the man said. His voice was deep, slow and sure. He wore faded jeans, scuffed-up cowboy boots. And that sinfully tight black T-shirt with Johnny Cash on the front, holding up his middle finger.

  Classy.

  “You might have to learn how to smile, though,” Joey put in.

  And the applicant, whose name Sophia had yet to accidentally overhear, bared his teeth in something that was definitely more grimace than grin.

  “Never mind.” Joey turned her way, “Sophia, can we get four celebratory micro-brews over here? I think we’ve just hired our first bouncer.”

  “Head of security,” Jason corrected. “If our terms meet with your approval.” He slid a single sheet of paper across the table.

  The man perused it briefly, deep blue eyes narrowing as they sped over the page. He had the blackest hair she’d ever seen. Like a crow’s wing. Dark, deep sapphire eyes. He reminded her of a painting that used to hang in her grandmother’s house. Elvis on velvet.

  Whoa, that was weird. Hashtag, flashback.

  The guy looked up at length and caught her staring. Politely, he pretended not to, and slid his eyes away. “Got a pen?” he asked Jason.

  Sophia couldn't seem to stop staring until he did. Not her fault, and there was definitely nothing all crushy going on here. He just had eyes like freaking gemstones. Midnight blue sapphires.

  Knock. It. Off.

  She slapped her towel onto its rack and then reached up high, taking down four man-sized German beer steins with the Long Branch’s logo custom embossed on the front. In her head she heard the crazy old man from Jurassic Park saying “Spared no expense” every five minutes. Her cousins were freaking loaded, and everything about this place showed it. Uncle Bobby Joe had left his Texas mansion behind to live in Vidalia’s farmhouse for the first year of their marriage. They’d been playfully bantering about where to spend the second year, though Vidalia was determined not to be “beyond shoutin’ distance” of her daughters.

  “Sweet tea will do for me,” the new guy said, not raising his voice at all. Like he knew she could hear every word. She looked up when he did, and his eyes caught hold of hers again, held on for just a beat longer than they should.

  Okay, okay, maybe there was something crushy going on here. Wow.

  It wasn’t because of her letter to Santa, though. It couldn’t be. Jeeze, if she started believing in magic every time a good-looking man made eye contact, she’d be in more trouble than she already was, and she was already in a lot.

  Her cell phone buzzed. Not a call, but a text. She put one stein back on the shelf and got a tall slender water glass instead. The sweet tea was in enough demand here that they had it pre-made and ready to serve, so she filled the new bouncer’s glass with ice, poured the amber liquid over it, added a straw, and proceeded to draw the three beers from this month’s featured microbrewery, Algernon West. Then she carried the beverages all in one hand, water glass secured between the three beers, and a fresh bowl of peanuts and pretzels in the other.

  He was looking at her again as she crossed the big hardwood floor—which was so gleaming and polished it had taken her a week to be able to strut across it in heels with any sort of confidence. She was there now, though. In spades. Funny how things came back to you.

  She set the drinks down and plunked the snack mix in the middle of the table.

  “Darryl, meet our cousin Sophia, best barmaid this side of the Mississippi,” Joey said.

  “Bartender, boss. Barmaid is sexist,” Sophia said.

  Darryl got up from his chair, reached out a hand. Sophia wiped her palm on her apron, all the while noticing his long, elegant fingers. They were the hands of an artist, not a bouncer. And when one of them closed around hers, warm and strong, with callused fingertips, while his gemstone eyes locked onto hers, she felt a shiver tiptoe right up her spine.

  It had been a long time since she’d touched a man in any way. And he was a fine looking man. That was all it was. Pure red-blooded female reaction there. Nothing else.

  “Nice to meet you, Darryl.” She tugged her eyes away from his.

  “Right back at you, Sophie.”

  She looked up quickly. “Sophia.”

  “Got you.” He let go, but her hand still felt warm. He nodded at her, and she got the feeling he’d have touched the brim of his hat, if he’d been wearing one. Then he sat back down and said, “When do I start?”

  Her phone buzzed again. She headed back to the bar, dipping into her pocket for the phone, then glancing down at its screen. She was glad they were getting some security onboard around here. Oh, she could handle the occasional groping drunk, should it ever happen—it hadn’t yet. But in case anything bigger came along, like her ex for example, showing up to make a pest of himself again, she’d be glad of the backup.

  The text was from her lawyer, so she tapped it to see the content, her heart in her throat.

  The police have cleared you of any wrongdoing. No charges will be filed. I’ve sent a copy of the report to you at the OK address and a copy to the New York Medical Board. Congratulations!

  “Hot damn and hallelujah!” The words burst from her before she even thought to censor herself. She pressed a hand to her chest because her heart was hammering, and her relief was so intense she thought she could float all the way to the ceiling.

  Then she felt eyes on her and looked up from her cell phone. All four men were staring at her, but only one with gemstone, sapphire blue eyes and raven hair. Embarrassed, she tucked her phone back into her pocket.

  “Good news?” Darryl asked.

  He really was handsome. Probably the handsomest man she’d ever seen, and that was saying something, given that he was still surrounded by her cousins, three of the best looking men in the state. The whole country, maybe. She was glad he’d be working here. She couldn’t be blamed for enjoying the bonus of getting to look at him every day, could she? Heck, she was looking at him now, wasn’t she? Still?

  So look away.

&
nbsp; I’m trying.

  Yes, she talked to herself inside her head. It was not insane. She’d checked with a shrink she’d worked with back in New York.

  “Yes, very good news.” She didn’t elaborate.

  “Well, congratulations. Whatever it was.” He smiled. Was that a dimple in his cheek? Was that even fair that he could look like that and have a dimple? “Bosses?” Darryl said, changing the subject. “I can start anytime.”

  Sophia noticed then that her three cousins were looking from her to the new guy and back again, their expressions curious. Picking up on her inability to stop staring at him, probably.

  “Uh, yeah,” Jason said, looking back at Darryl again. “We could use you tonight, if you can swing it. We’re always busy this time of year. People traveling for the holidays. My father’s a genius, the way he pulls them in. We’re a must-see stop for everyone passing this way.”

  “I can start tonight,” Darryl replied.

  “Good. We open at five, but you don’t need to start until seven. Booze isn’t really flowing till then. It levels up around nine. You got a place to stay?”

  “Not yet.”

  Jason got to his feet, which signaled the others to do the same. He was not only the oldest but also the tallest of Uncle Bobby Joe’s three sons. He always got to play Marshall Dillon when they did Gunsmoke re-enactments. “We’ve got a vacant room upstairs, if you’re interested.

  “I’d be glad of it,” he said.

  “Done. You can pull your truck around back.”

  
“And a sweet truck it is,” Joey said. “Damn.”

  Darryl beamed a little bit. Ah, a cowboy and his truck. That was true love, Sophia thought.

  “There’s an outdoor stairway,” Jason said. “I’ll unlock the room and leave the key on the night stand. Just park out back where we do and bring your stuff up whenever you’re ready.”

  The men all shook hands, and Darryl-the-Gorgeous-Bouncer headed for the batwing doors, his long legs eating up the distance in a few strides. He picked up the hat he’d left on a peg near the door, settled it onto his head, tipping the front down at just the right angle, and then he turned back, looked at her, and touched the brim. “Pleasure meeting you, Sophie. See you tonight.”

  A chill of pure female appreciation tiptoed right up her spine. “Yeah, see you,” she said. And then he went outside, and she tried to remember what she’d been doing. Wiping glasses. Right.

  “Were there some sparks flying between the two of you, Sophie?” Joey asked, sauntering over to the bar with his stein. The effect was ruined by the foam on his upper lip. Because of his fun loving attitude and inability to be embarrassed, Joey played Festus in the dinner theater bits. And he hammed it up, big time.

  “I seem to recall punching you in the face for calling me Sophie one summer,” she said.

  “Well, yeah, but we were younger then. Eight and ten I think.”

  She shrugged. “Right. I’d hit you a lot harder now.”

  Joey grinned. “So what was your good news, cuz?”


  She smiled so hard it hurt. “The criminal investigation is closed. No charges are gonna be filed against me. Legally, I’m in the clear.”

  All three cousins whooped at once. “That’s fantastic,” Rob said. “Now if they’d just hurry up and toss your ex into the pen, we could relax.”

  “We can already relax, Robby,” she said, using her childhood name for him and knowing he’d hate it. “Skyler’s harmless.”

  “Right, except for trying to kick your door in and scaring you so bad you had to call the cops.”

  “I wasn’t scared.” She had to lower her eyes, because she knew they all saw right through her. “Okay, I was a little scared. But he’s a million miles away.”

  “Not far enough,” Rob said.

  He was still sitting at the table, sipping his beer. Of the three of them, he was the hardest to be close to. Closed off and quiet. But then again, he had his reasons.

  “So?” Joey asked. “What about you and the new guy?”

  “Oh, come on, Joey, the last thing I need is another male complication in my life. And I’ve got no intention of getting tangled up with a local cowboy while I’m in town. This is a temporary visit, don’t forget.” Even as she said it, it felt kind of false. So far, she’d been having a pretty good time.

  She’d slept last night after writing that silly Dear Santa letter. She’d slept all night long. That was a small miracle.

  “You know, cuz, we were all planning to go back to our old lives too, when we first came out here,” Joey said. “Stayed on to help run the saloon after Dad almost died last Christmas. And then…then I don’t know what happened. Here it is almost Christmas again, and we’re still here.”

  “This place gets hold of you,” Jason said softly.

  Rob rolled his eyes. “You, maybe. Not me. Soon as I’m sure Dad can handle it, I’m out of here.”

  Sophia drew a deep breath and released it slowly. Between her cousins and their newfound stepmother, Vidalia, half-sister Selene, and Selene’s four sisters, there didn’t seem to be anyone in town not trying to convince her to stay. Except for Rob, and that was just because he was too miserable to care what she did.

  “I’ve got a career waiting for me.” She took off her apron and hung it on the peg below bar level, out of sight. “I’m out of here until opening time. You guys good with that?”

  “You bet.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Do what you want.”

  Shaking her head, she headed across the saloon, through the kitchen, and out the back door.

  The sunshine was a shocker. Inside the saloon with its holiday tunes, glittery garland draped over every surface, and pine scent wafting from everywhere, she’d almost expected to step outside into cold and snow. All the locals were complaining that it was freezing out. Most hadn't experienced a northeastern winter, though.

  She would never have thought she’d miss snow. But this time of year, she did. Someone said it had been snowing earlier today over in Tucker Lake, the nearest big town.

  Maybe it would snow a little bit here, too.

  Maybe she’d just add that to her Dear Santa letter. Yeah, right after she crossed vindication off her list.

  No criminal charges. Hot damn.