Second Chance at Desire

Excerpt

Marshall parked and got out, the music coming from inside the bar and the number of cars parked outside reminding him that it was ladies’ night.

He walked through the front door, finding the place as crowded as he’d expected and, to his shock, the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Wearing a light blue dress and a pair of cowboy boots, with her long hair loose, she drew him like a beacon.

Stiffening at the sight of the man lowering himself onto the bar stool next to her, Marshall started forward, his stomach tightening with anger.

John Dalton, one of the owners of the bar, approached her with what appeared to be a glass of whiskey, his lips twitching when he saw Marshall. He set the glass in front of her, looking slightly relieved. “Hello, Marshall. Beer?”

Inclining his head, Marshall moved to stand behind the man sitting next to Talia. “You’re in my seat. Beat it.”

The other man, one he didn’t recognize, stiffened and turned to look up at Marshall over his shoulder, his features tight with anger.

One look at Marshall seemed to change his mind, the anger being replaced with deference.

Grabbing his hat, he slid from the stool without a word and went to join the crowd.

Looking around with fresh eyes, Marshall saw that Talia had gained the attention of several men in the bar, attention she didn’t appear to notice as she sat watching John, Michael, and one of their newest bartenders fixing drinks.

The wave of possessiveness staggered him, the idea of another man touching her filling him with a jealousy and anger he had no right to feel.

Pushing it aside, he lowered himself to the bar stool next to her, pleased that it put him in the position of being between her and everyone else.

John slid a mug of beer down the bar to him. “How’s it going, Marshall?”

Marshall set his hat on the bar and glanced at Talia, irritated that, after all the times she’d flirted with him, she wouldn’t look at him. “That remains to be seen.” Eyeing the shot of whiskey and mug of beer in front of Talia, Marshall leaned toward her, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Who’s your friend?”

Talia shrugged and took a sip of her beer, staring straight ahead. “He said his name was Bob. When you were a U.S. Marshal, did they call you Marshal Marshall?”

“Cute. No. Not if they wanted to keep their teeth.” Looking up, he met John’s gaze. “How many shots has she had?”

Talia reached for a pretzel. “None of your business.”

John smiled and refilled the pretzel and peanut bowls. “That’s her second.” Raising his voice to be heard over the music and conversation, he smiled at Marshall. “She walked here so she won’t be driving drunk. I think almost every man in here has had a turn on that stool tonight offering to give her a ride home.”

Talia tossed back her whiskey with barely a grimace, pushing the glass forward in a silent request for a refill before reaching for another pretzel. “Jeez, John. Why don’t you tell him my life story?”

John glanced at the glass with a frown. “Just telling Marshall that he doesn’t have to worry about you driving drunk. You’re sure in a mood tonight, aren’t you?”

Talia finished her pretzel and wrapped her hand around the handle of her beer mug. “I’m fine, John. It’s Friday night. The drinks are cheap, and I can sleep in tomorrow morning.”

Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath. “Shit. No, I can’t.”

Marshall reached for a handful of peanuts. “Problem?”

She glanced at her watch and took another sip of beer, meeting John’s gaze and gesturing toward her shot glass. “No. John, can I have one more?”

Marshall’s palms itched to connect with her well-rounded ass, a phenomenon that had never happened with Emily. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

Her lips twitched as she reached for another pretzel. “If I thought that, I wouldn’t have ordered another.”

He reached for a couple of the pretzels, inadvertently brushing his hand against hers. “Any particular reason you felt the need to drink tonight?”

She yanked her hand back, proof that she’d felt the jolt of awareness as strongly as he had. She took another sip of beer and smiled her thanks when John came over to refill her glass again. “If I felt the need to drink, I wouldn’t be here. I just wanted a distraction.”

“Oh?” He couldn’t help but wonder if her conversations with Joe and Carter had anything to do with her mood. “Want to talk about it?”

Talia tossed back her whiskey and finished her beer. “No.” Sliding from the stool, she reached into her pocket. “Hold on to your hat, Deputy. As soon as I leave, the women who’ve been watching you ever since you came through the door are gonna be all over you.”

Reaching out, he wrapped a hand around her forearm, unable to resist touching her again. “I’ve got your tab.”

Tossing bills on the bar, Talia laughed and jerked away from him. “No thanks. Men only buy drinks for women if they’re expecting something in return. You’ve already made it clear that you don’t want anything from me. Happy hunting.”

Stunned that the woman who’d flirted shamelessly with him for the last several months would walk away from him without a backward glance, Marshall cursed at the realization that he and his brothers’ distance had already hurt her. Getting to his feet, he threw several more bills on the bar.

John approached, raising a brow. “You going after her?”

“Damned right I’m going after her.”

John inclined his head and smiled. “It’s about damned time.”