Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) Read Free Page A

with your patrons?”
    “Possessive?” The word was abrasive to her ears. “You asked a question, and I answered. Besides, you’re the one who’s stalked around this place for the last week like you own the deed to the building and a contract on everyone in it.”
    He furrowed a brow and twisted his lips into a bemused scowl. He turned the corners of his cards up. “So, you enjoy branding people for their clothing choices, but that’s not considered a possessive trait?”
    He watched her, his stare sharp in what she first perceived as drunken bravado. But his hands were too steady, his speech too clear, his gaze too penetrating to be anything but an air of supercilious confidence.
    He was searching out her weak spots and making a direct hit with each condescending accusation.
    His intense attention made every movement of her body feel overstated and scrutinized.
    Damn, why did she have to be attracted to this guy with his darkened features and brutish good looks? Why did she always go for the hotheads? The possessors?
    By the way he commanded control of the bar since first stepping in last Sunday and hitting things right off with the Rebel PD who hung out after shift change, he was no doubt a hotheaded and possessive bastard just like the rest of them.
    She glanced at her cards, desperate to look anywhere but into those deep brown eyes staring at her as if the world had just suffered a zombie apocalypse and she was the last healthy woman standing. “People tip better when they think they’ve connected in some intimate way with their bartender. Nicknames pay the bills.”
    “And you give them no choice in their nickname? Cowboy isn’t really my thing.”
    A slow, sexy grin slid from one side of his face to the other, but underneath that layer of smugness she saw the hidden threat that awaited anyone who challenged his authority.
    The intensity in his body made her shiver.
    God, if there wasn’t something drop-dead sexy about the way this man did everything from hold a beer bottle to breathe.
    “All right, Ace. Give me two cards.” She laid her discards on the bar and waited for him to take two off the top of the deck. He trailed his long fingers along hers suggestively. Heat shot up her arm, making the rest of her body tremble.
    “Call.”
    He watched her again from under those thick lashes, trying to intimidate her, she guessed. An invisible band of excitement-laced fear tightened around her belly and that familiar undertone of danger followed.
    The first time a man tried to bait her into trusting him, she’d been eight and the challenge almost ended her life. Every man who’d dared try after failed miserably.
    She flashed a smile upward, sending a silent Hail Mary to the gambling gods, trying not to imagine what it would be like to throw a hand, just this once. To let go. Be free. Live a little.
    Lacy leaned back against the liquor shelf and studied her hand. She could almost feel the weight of his stare stroke across her body.
    “Connie,” she called across the bar without lifting her gaze from her cards. “Go ahead and start a tab for…?” She cut her gaze back to the stranger.
    “Mitch. Mitch Kilpatrick.”
    She glanced back to the bartender. “Start a tab for Mr. Kilpatrick.” His name rolled off her tongue, smooth with an air of danger. “He’s buying a house round tonight.” She turned back to Mitch. “Show ’em.”
    Mitch laid both the six of diamonds and spades on the bar. He pulled a third card from his hand and took his time turning it over, making the gesture as agonizing as possible.
    Six of clubs.
    “You’re enjoying this too much.” Tension pulled on her shoulders. She tried to relieve the stress by rolling them but stopped at Mitch’s baffled scowl. “Has anyone ever told you you’re intense?”
    The corner of his lip twitched in answer. He held the next card between his fingers, taunting her by flicking it back and forth.
    “Has anyone ever told you you’re impatient?”