An Unlikely Setup

by Margaret Watson

  He crossed his arms over his chest without taking his eyes off her face. “You just passing through, or are you staying in Otter Tail?”

  “I’m staying here. For a while, anyway.”

  “On vacation?”

  “A combination of business and vacation.” She hesitated. This wasn’t the time to do business. He had people waiting for him inside. “I’m a…writer.” She would be, if she could find another newspaper job. “I’m working on a story.” It was called “How to Dig Yourself Out of a Huge Hole.”

  “Yeah?” He gave her another of those mouthwatering grins. “What do you write? I’m a big reader.”

  Quinn Murphy a reader? That was unexpected—and intriguing. “Nonfiction,” she said. “I’m trying to get published.”

  It seemed like forever since she’d been laid off from her job as an investigative reporter for the Chicago Herald and started buying houses to rehab. In reality, it had been less than a year. Who knew you could get into so much trouble with real estate in such a short time?

  “Can I buy you another beer to make up for J.D., Ms….?” He stuck his hand out and waited expectantly.

  “Maddie,” she said.

  “Quinn Murphy.” He engulfed her hand in his much larger one. Maddie was not a small woman, but she felt dwarfed by Quinn. He was a head taller than her and solidly built. “Welcome to Otter Tail.” He held on to her a heartbeat longer than necessary.

  “Thank you, Mr. Murphy,” she said, tugging slightly.

  “Call me Quinn.” He smiled as he slid his fingers away from hers. Too slowly.

  Her skin tingled, and she swallowed. This wasn’t the way she’d wanted to spend her first evening in town.

  “Coming back in, Maddie?” he asked. “You look like you’re wound a little tight. I’d hate to have you leave the Harp with a bad impression.”

  Wound tight. Yeah, she was that. On the drive up from Chicago, she’d felt like a spring, ready to bounce through the roof. “I don’t know. One beer is my limit.”

  “Be reckless tonight,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Let me buy you another one.”

  Suddenly, ignoring her better judgment, she wanted to be reckless. She wanted to see Murphy smile again. “All right. I guess one more won’t hurt.” Maybe it would let her relax enough to sleep.

  “Great.” He touched her lower back, steering her toward the door, and her skin burned beneath the thin sweater she wore. “When things slow down, you can tell me about your book.”

  Smooth line. But then, Quinn had always been smooth. The boys had all wanted to be Quinn. The girls had all just wanted him. “Looks like you do a good business here,” she murmured.

  “I do okay,” he said as he opened the door for her. The bar sounds rolled over her. “It’d be easier if I had more help.”

  “I saw your sign.” She nodded at the Waitress Wanted in the window. “Are you that tough to work for?”

  “I’m the easiest boss in the world, as long as you show up on time and do your work.” His gaze sharpened. “You interested in the job?”

  “Of course not. I’m not going to be here very long.” She hoped.

  He shrugged. “If that story gives you writer’s block, let me know. I’d hire you even if you’re only going to be here a week or two.”

  “How do you know I’d be any good as a waitress?” Although she was. She’d waitressed her way through college. “I could be the biggest klutz in the world.”

  “I saw you handle J.D.,” he said as he stepped behind the bar. “You’re no klutz.” He pulled her a glass of Guinness and set it on the counter. “Sam, get off that stool and give it to the lady,” he said to a young man staring into his beer.

  The kid jerked to attention. His fair complexion turned beet red and he stumbled to his feet. “Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered. “I didn’t see you.”

  “Thanks. That’s very sweet of you,” Maddie said with a smile.

  His face became darker red. “I was going to play some darts anyway.” Sam edged away from the bar.

  “You scared him off,” Maddie said to Quinn. “That wasn’t nice.”

  “I’m not a nice man.” Something dark swirled in the depths of his eyes, then was gone. He wiped a rag over some spilled liquid. “Besides, Sam was feeling sorry for himself, and self-pity and beer are a bad combination. He needed to get off his rear.”

  As Quinn filled an order farther down, Maddie eased herself onto the stool, sipped her Guinness and looked around. Quinn’s pub was a popular place. Why hadn’t David told her about it? Especially if he’d promised to sell it to Quinn.

  She should have spent more time with David. She should have visited him while he was sick. But he hadn’t told her how serious his illness was.

  She’d give Quinn the chance to buy the pub from her. She didn’t care who bought the place. All she wanted was enough money to pay her creditors and return the money she’d borrowed from her friend Hollis.

  Quinn was now talking to an older man in a sports coat and tie who sat at the opposite end of the bar. The muscles beneath Quinn’s polo shirt bunched as he reached for a bowl of pretzels and put it in front of the guy, and Maddie found herself staring at them. Why did it have to be Quinn Murphy who managed the bar she had to sell?

  Drinking the heavy, bitter beer, she forced herself to ignore Quinn. She was as bad as all the other women in here tonight, she thought with disgust. Intoxicated by the sight of a good-looking man. She wasn’t desperate enough to chase after Quinn Murphy.

  She caught a glimpse of Sam throwing darts halfheartedly at the board on the wall, and made an impulsive decision. Quinn and J.D. hadn’t recognized her. Surely that meant her identity was safe for tonight. Sliding off the stool, she wove among the people standing at the bar, heading toward the dartboard.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HE KNEW HER.

  Quinn washed a glass and dried it as he watched Maddie toss another dart into the center of the board. The name didn’t ring a bell, but there was something familiar about her face.

  She turned to Sam, said something, and the kid laughed. The same kid who’d been crying in his beer an hour ago because he’d been dumped by Annamae Simpson.

  The glass rattled as Quinn deposited it on the rack. What did Maddie find so damn fascinating about Sam Talbott?

  He knew what Sam saw when he looked at Maddie—dark red hair that shot fire every time she moved her head, green eyes, generous curves and a fascinating face. She was an intriguing combination of tough and vulnerable.

  And nervous.

  Had been from the moment she walked in the door. Quinn made it his business to pay attention to his customers.

  As he served drinks and chatted with the people sitting at the bar, he kept one eye on her, although he wasn’t sure why. He normally didn’t go for high-strung women.

  Talbott was standing awfully close to her. Quinn shifted from one foot to the other and resisted the impulse to walk over to them. Maddie had demonstrated that she could take care of herself.

  And maybe she wanted to stand close to Sam Talbott.

  Quinn forced his eyes away from her. It wasn’t his business if his customers got friendly. That was the point of a pub, wasn’t it? To have fun and get to know people.

  Why the hell would Maddie be interested in Sam Talbott? He was just a kid.

  “Hey, Quinn, did the redhead over there really punch out J.D.?” Paul Black asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Quinn turned to him, grateful for the distraction. “You were here. You saw what happened.”

  Paul snorted. “I was too busy telling Gordon what an ass he was, and I missed all the fun.”

  “No, she did not punch out J.D. She told him she didn’t want to dance with him. That’s it.” Quinn shook his head. “The way gossip travels around here, I guess by tomorrow she’ll have put him in the hospital.”

  “Probably,” Paul said with a laugh.

  Another man at the bar explained what had happened, and Quin
n listened to them rehash the incident for about the fifth time. Everyone agreed that the city girl had made a fool of J.D. Quinn hoped she’d stay out of J.D.’s way. He turned mean as a snake when he was drunk.

  Sam leaned into Maddie, nodded, then made his way to the bar. He set their glasses on the marble. “A Coke and a Bud Light, please, Quinn.”

  “That was the quickest recovery from a broken heart I’ve ever seen.” Quinn shoved the glasses into the dirty dish rack.

  “What are you talking about?” The kid gave him a puzzled look.

  Quinn nodded toward Maddie. “You two are real cozy back there.”

  Sam followed his gaze. “Maddie?” Quinn had no trouble reading the lust in Sam’s eyes. “She’s awesome.”

  “Yeah, she is. Too bad she’s out of your league.” Quinn set the Coke on the counter and some of the soft drink slopped over the side of the glass.

  “She is not.” The kid’s tongue was practically hanging out. Maddie was tossing darts at the board by herself, her hair gleaming beneath the lights.

  Quinn felt liquid flowing over his hand, and he realized he’d opened the tapper of Bud, but was holding the glass beneath a different spigot. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed a clean glass and watched it fill.

  Sam gulped his beer without taking his eyes off her. “She’s really hot, for an older woman.”

  “Older woman?” She couldn’t be more than thirty. “Don’t tell her that, okay? There’s been more than enough violence in this place for one night.”

  “Think of all the experience she’s had,” Sam said happily.

  “You think she’s going to teach you some new moves?” Quinn reined in the impulse to lean across the bar and shake some sense into him. “What’s Annamae going to say about that?”

  “Who cares? Annamae dumped me,” Sam replied.

  “She’s dumped you before and you didn’t come here and try to pick up tourists.”

  “I should have.” Sam swigged back more beer. “Maddie’s a lot more fun than Annamae.”

  Maddie laughed, drawing Quinn’s attention. A couple had joined her at the dartboard.

  “Gotta go,” Sam said as he picked up both drinks and headed back. In a few minutes, all four of them were playing darts.

  Quinn tried to ignore her for the rest of the evening, but failed miserably. Maddie and Sam now sat in a corner booth. Their heads were close together, and every time she touched Sam’s hand, Quinn took a deep breath.

  There were only a few people left in the pub when Quinn stepped from behind the bar to pick up the dirty glasses on the tables. Sam had taken off a while ago, and Maddie was alone, writing in a notebook.

  “I guess you didn’t let J.D. ruin your evening,” he said.

  She looked up and smiled. “I had a good time tonight. Thanks for persuading me to stay.”

  “My pleasure.” He set the dirty glasses on a table. “You and Sam sure got cozy.”

  She slid to the edge of the booth and started to stand. “He’s a nice kid.”

  Quinn steadied her by grasping her elbow, letting his fingers slide over her silky skin. “You two were having a pretty intense conversation back here.”

  “Sam’s very sweet. He was telling me about his breakup with his girlfriend.”

  Sweet. That’s not what a woman said about a man she was interested in. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. “He’s an idiot. He and Annamae break up once a month, regular as clockwork.”

  Her low, husky laugh stirred his blood. “It sounded like a very tumultuous relationship.”

  “That’s one word for it, I guess.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Goofballs in love. Annamae is as bad as Sam. Their romance is the fodder for endless gossip.”

  “Small towns are big on gossip, aren’t they?” The sudden chill in her voice had nothing to do with the Lake Michigan breeze blowing in through the front door.

  He tried to read her expression. “You grow up in a small town?”

  “No, I grew up in Chicago. But I spent some time in small towns when I was a kid.”

  “Not a good experience?”

  “Let’s just say I never went back.”

  “Otter Tail is a nice place. Not everyone is like J.D.,” he said. “He’s not a bad guy, but he’s been out of control since his wife divorced him. Stay away from him while you’re here.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not my type.”

  “Good to hear it.” Quinn edged a little closer. “What is your type?”

  “It’s not bullying ex-jocks, that’s for sure.”

  “How do you know he used to be a jock?”

  She avoided his gaze as she fiddled with her purse. “Come on. A guy built like that, who likes to push people around? I’m guessing high school football player.”

  “Bingo. Give the lady a cigar.” He touched her arm again and found her silky skin had cooled. “Are you going to come back to the Harp, Maddie?”

  “Definitely. Although I’m not sure you’ll want me here.”

  “Trust me. You’re welcome anytime.” He picked up the dirty glasses. “We aim to please. For you, we’d make an extraspecial effort.”

  She laughed as she headed for the restroom. “Wow, now you’ve made me all tingly.”

  He watched as she disappeared around the corner. Tingly. Yeah, that was the polite way to describe it.

  After he’d washed the glasses, put them away and checked his stock, he realized Maddie had returned to the booth and was lingering over the small amount of cola in her glass. Why was she still here? Had she decided to have even more fun tonight?

  Desire swept through him as he watched her, and he hurried to finish the setup for the next day. Women occasionally hung around after the pub closed, but he never took them up on their offers. Sleeping with the customers was no way to run a business.

  Maybe it was time to change his policy.

  Ignoring Ted Bartlett who was sweeping the floor, he walked back to the booth. “I thought you were leaving. You need something?”

  She looked up, her green eyes now cautious. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

  He slid into the booth across from her, his hands itching to touch her again. “What can I do for you?”

  “This is a little awkward,” she said, swallowing.

  “Don’t worry, Maddie.” He leaned toward her. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

  Awareness flared in her eyes. Then she cleared her throat. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” she said. “Although thanks for the offer. I wanted to tell you I’m the new owner of the pub. David left it to me.”

  Quinn jerked away from her. “The hell you say…You’re Madeline Johnson?”

  “I am.” Her fingers whitened on her glass. “I came to Otter Tail to check on his property and figure out what to do with it.”

  David had promised him the opportunity to buy the business he’d built, then he’d left it to this woman, instead. Anger stirred, just as it had so many times since David died. Was Maddie David’s lover? Was that why he’d given it to her?

  Don’t go there. It wouldn’t change anything. He had to focus on the pub. It was all he cared about.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were right away?”

  She glanced at Ted. “Did you want to discuss this in front of half the town?”

  “Fair enough. Are you going to take it over? Run the place?”

  “No, I’m not.” Her hand relaxed on the glass. “I don’t know anything about running a bar. I’m going to sell it.”

  That was the best news he’d heard in weeks. “Great. I want to buy it.”

  Something that looked like relief appeared in her eyes. “Excellent. I have an appointment with a Realtor tomorrow. I’d like to get this done quickly.”

  “Same goes.” He let out a breath. “You’re not using Gordon Crawford, are you?”

  “The mayor?” Her eyes twinkled, and it felt like someone had punched him in the chest. “
I heard your conversation with him earlier, and I’m happy to say no. I’m meeting Laura Taylor.”

  Thank God. “Laura will give you good advice. She’s honest and straightforward. I’m willing to make you an offer right now.”

  A tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Go ahead, but I won’t commit to anything until I talk to Laura.”

  Ted edged closer to their table. “I think you missed a spot by the door,” Quinn called to him.

  Shooting him a dirty look, the older man headed away from the booth. Moving slowly.

  Quinn turned back to Maddie. Her hands were clenched on her empty glass again, and it appeared as if she was holding her breath. “You want another Coke?” he asked.

  “No, thanks. What are you offering for the pub and the land, Mr. Murphy?”

  “Quinn.” He settled into the booth. “How about $300,000?”

  She exhaled in a rush. “I need a lot more than that.”

  “That’s what it’s worth. David had the property appraised after I rebuilt the pub.” When he’d promised to sell it to him for that price.

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Two years ago.” Okay, maybe he’d have to go up a little. “I can go as high as $325,000.”

  Maddie set the glass aside and folded her hands on the table. “I need more, Quinn. Maybe we should wait until I talk to Laura.”

  “Laura will tell you the same thing. It’s a fair price.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “What do you think you can get for this place?”

  “At least $500,000.”

  “That’s crazy.” Quinn stared at her, shocked. “That’s on-the-lake, Sturgeon Falls money. Not middle-of-town, Otter Tail money. Are you sure you haven’t been talking to Gordon?”

  She gathered her purse. “I’ll discuss your offer with Laura tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll get back to you.”

  Quinn stood up. “You do that. Maybe Laura can make you see reason.”

  QUINN TOOK ANOTHER GULP of scalding coffee, shifted his chair away from the sunlight pouring in through the Harp’s front window, then pushed the laptop away from him. He couldn’t concentrate on the spreadsheet. The only figure he could see was $500,000.