Last Call (Book #2 - Heat Wave Series) Read online

  LAST CALL

  Book #2 in the Heat Wave Series

  Alannah Lynne

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2012 by Alannah Lynne

  www.alannahlynne.com

  www.facebook.com/authoralannahlynne

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intentional by the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Excerpt - Savin’ Me

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  Dedication

  To Charles

  Thank you for all your love, patience, and

  encouraging support on this crazy journey.

  I love you!

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to Penny “Silver” James for an awesome title!! It’s perfect on so many levels, and I never would’ve come up with it myself.

  I was remiss in mentioning several great writing buddies in the “Savin’ Me” acknowledgements, and I apologize. “Savin’ Me” wouldn’t have happened without Amy Davidson, who spent hours with me in chat asking, “Why?” Amy, you drove me to the brink of insanity (and tears) a few times, but you were so right to harp on character drive and motivation, and there’s not a writing day that goes by where I don’t hear you in the back of my head asking, “Why?” Also, a huge thank you hug goes to Cara Carnes and Luanna Nau for EVERYTHING! In some ways, it’s hard to believe we’ve been at this game for so long. But then again, I can’t remember a time when you two weren’t in my life. Thank you for all the support, encouragement, brainstorming ideas, and especially, all the laughs you’ve given me over the years!

  Thanks to my Board of Directors, aka my Mistresses: Amanda McFarland, Cheri Biddix, Liz Henderson, and Michelle Unger. Self-publishing can be a scary, overwhelming place sometimes, and knowing you guys have my back keeps me grounded and away from the Oreo shakes - most days! LOL

  Becki Wyer - Wow! What a blessing you are! You’re such a strong, supportive member of my street team, and I appreciate everything you do, from proofreading to pimping. I’m still on the lookout for the gold tooth and fuzzy, purple hat for you!

  And where would I be without Leagh Christensen, who makes order from the chaos and keeps me on track. Thank you for all of your help and support!

  Last, but certainly not least. Thank you to my friends and family, immediate and extended, blood and adopted. I tend to get lost in my worlds and spend way too much time in my head sometimes. Thank you for understanding and for loving me anyway!!

  Chapter One

  Gavin McLeod turned into the Blackout Bar and Grill’s gravel parking lot, whipped his SUV into the first available parking space, and slammed the shifter into park. The vehicle was still rocking from the abrupt stop when he shoved the door open and stepped out into the crisp evening air.

  His chest expanded as he drew the heavy salt air into his lungs, then let the explosive tension trapped in his head and neck escape on a sharp exhale. The hour-long drive from Myrtle Beach to Anticue would have been a relaxing trip, had it not been filled with constant chatter and relentless questions from his three female companions. Finally free of the confining vehicle, he took a moment to let the peaceful calm of Anticue Island seep into every cell of his body.

  He hadn’t been to the island in… Damn, had it really been fifteen years? The Blackout Bar and Grill was a new addition, and the old fishing pier next door was closed. But other than that, nothing about the island seemed to have changed.

  The back doors of the SUV opened, and two-thirds of the troublesome trio climbed out. Their four-inch spiked heels dug into the loose, sandy gravel, pitching them off-kilter, sending them to and fro. Too far away to grab either of them, Gavin held his breath and hoped for the best. Each girl put a hand to the side of the vehicle to gain her balance, then used the car as a handrail as they made their way to the ballast-stone sidewalk.

  The other one-third of his problem—which accounted for two-thirds of his headache—remained in the passenger seat. If this were a date, he would open the door and help her from the car like the gentleman his grandfather raised him to be. If it were a platonic, non-forced date with a friend, he still would help her from the car.

  But this wasn’t a date. And he’d be damned if he’d do anything to give the impression he was okay with Max and Callie’s plan of manipulating him into pretending it was. In fact, Gavin was so annoyed with Max, he was thinking of demanding an increase in his profit sharing to cover his escort fee.

  He stepped in front of the car, slipped his hands into his front pockets, and waited. He would prefer to walk away and leave her sulking, but he couldn’t hit the lock button on the key fob until she gave up her petulance and opened the damned door.

  As Jen and Tiffany teetered along the uneven stepping-stones leading to the bar’s side entrance, he took in the details of the building and surrounding property. Weathered clapboard siding hung like sagging skin on a decrepit skeleton, but bright, lime-green trim gave the place a shot of vibrant color, which made the battered siding seem less tired.

  Wrought iron benches, brightly painted Adirondack chairs, and copper yard ornaments created a profusion of color along the sidewalk. Hand-painted price tags hung from each piece, letting visitors know they, too, could have a bit of Anticue in their own backyard.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as his gaze settled on a copper windmill. His grandfather would love the controlled chaos created by the bright colors and whimsical atmosphere of the Blackout. He would especially love that windmill.

  The stone sidewalk continued past the side entrance to a front patio and balcony that overlooked the beach. During summer months, the pink, blue, and teal tables would be filled to capacity, but on this early May evening, they sat empty.

  His gaze shifted to the deserted fishing pier next door, and his smile faded. He and his grandfather had spent many days tossing hooks there, and heavy sadness filled his chest at seeing it abandoned and left to the mercy of the beach’s harsh elements.

  Tired of waiting, he peered at Callie through the windshield and cocked an eyebrow, his message loud and clear. Are you coming or not? When she stuck her lip out even further and crossed her arms, he gave her a suit-yourself shrug and turned toward the entrance.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders slump in defeat. She grabbed her purse from the floor of the SUV, pulled the lever to release the door, and shoved against it with a huff. “A gentleman would have opened the door for me.”

  Gavin smiled and kept walking. Maybe if he turned into a first-rate asshole, he’d finally drop off C
allie’s radar. God knows, reasoning with her hadn’t worked. Neither had the direct approach: I’m. Not. Interested.

  All she’d ever seen was his refined business persona. She had no idea the real Gavin, buried beneath the expensive Italian suits, even existed. Maybe knocking some of the polish off his redneck would be the answer to getting her to drop her obsession.

  Her friends were perched on wooden chairs at a high pub table, looking around expectantly for a waiter. Out of the ten or twelve people scattered around the bar, none looked too interested in jumping to meet the girls’ demands.

  The front wall that faced the beach was actually two large doors that could be rolled out of the way to create one large space between the inside and outside deck. At the back of the room sat the L-shaped service bar. One end stopped short of the kitchen entrance, while the other hooked back to the wall. Two older salts sat on barstools at the hooked end, sipping their beers and talking.

  One side of the room held a pool table, while a jukebox sat in the middle of the building, wedged against the center support beam. The rest of the area was filled with an assortment of pub and picnic tables. The whimsical outdoor atmosphere carried over to the interior, with brightly painted walls decorated in copper sculptures and stained-glass pieces.

  Gavin had wondered why Max would send him to this little bar on an out-of-the-way island, but now he understood the reason for the trip. Max had done this before when he wanted Gavin’s opinion on a location. Without giving him any details, he’d send him to “check it out.” Gavin would report back with his impression, and, if the two men agreed the place held a unique appeal, they’d mimic its style in one of Holden’s resort properties.

  This place definitely had a unique appeal.

  Had he made the trip alone, he could have a lot of fun roaming around, checking out the artwork, listening to the locals. But he wasn’t alone, so he might as well find out what Callie and her friends wanted to drink, hook ‘em up, then leave them to get sloshed while he wandered around and soaked up the details.

  ***

  Bartender Sunny Black had her head down in the beer chiller, her arm buried to the elbow in ice, when she heard, “Can I get a blowjob, sex on the beach, and a screaming orgasm, please?”

  She rolled her eyes and continued to shift bottles in the cooler without responding. She really needed a better system for taking inventory.

  The problem?

  Bent over like this, her ass stuck straight up in the air, which seemed to be an open invitation for assholes to hit on her by ordering the raunchiest drink names they could think of. Hard to believe these guys thought she hadn’t heard it all before.

  She’d been hoping for a quiet night, so she could close up early. But Mr. Hardy-har-har undoubtedly had a posse—jerks always traveled in packs—and they always stayed until last call, using every available minute to get as drunk and obnoxious as possible. She’d be lucky if she got out of here before midnight.

  She shifted the Budweisers to the side and resumed counting. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

  “Ma’am, did you hear me?”

  With her free hand, she pulled the Dum-Dum out of her mouth and licked the sticky from her lips. “Look, Romeo,” she said, tilting her head so her voice carried to him, rather than echoing around the cooler. “I’ll give you five points for a nice, smooth voice. But you lose ten for being a tad overzealous.”

  She jammed the sucker back into her mouth and resumed counting. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

  “What the hell are you talking…” His voice trailed off, and then roaring laughter settled over her like thick, heavy honey drizzled on a piping hot biscuit.

  He seemed genuinely amused, and she grew curious enough about the man behind the laugh to risk an encouraging look. She leaned back and lifted her head so she could see over the bar.

  Holy cow. Even while slurping on a saliva-inducing butterscotch sucker, her mouth went bone dry.

  The guy’s features were amazing. The Great Sculptor had pressed her thumbs into the flesh of his cheeks, then pulled an upward stroke, leaving behind a slight indention, while at the same time creating high, rugged cheekbones. His square jaw led to a square chin that projected a strong, confident individual. His eyes were like brilliant sapphires, topped by severe dark brows.

  His features were sharp, and if not smiling, he would appear harsh, hostile even. But softened by that grin, she found him utterly—and literally—breathtaking.

  “I think you misunderstood my request.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

  As a bartender, Sunny met good-looking men on a regular basis. Sometimes they tripped her trigger. Most of the time, they didn't. What she felt now catapulted beyond mild interest and ranked more like an internal explosion capable of launching a rocket.

  Her flirting game had been packed away so long she wasn’t sure she still had it. And if so, she doubted she could find all the pieces. But this guy… he made her want to sort through the game drawer and find as much as possible.

  The biting sting of ice—in which her arm was still buried to the elbow—cut through the lustful haze, and her muscle jerked involuntarily. She glanced down, trying to remember what she was doing prior to having her motherboard fried.

  Inventory. Right.

  Her cheeks blazed with the embarrassment of her obvious attraction, and she could only imagine the glow they were putting off. She bit down on the sucker, then tossed the empty stick in the trashcan by her feet. “Sorry for being a smart-ass. Let me finish this and”—she smiled, and searched for a flirty tone—“I’ll take care of you.”

  His blue eyes darkened, and his eyelids relaxed. A slow, rakish smile crept across his full lips, causing the tiny cleft in the center of his chin to deepen. “I look forward to that.”

  Damn. If they weren’t talking drinks, this would be the opportunity of a lifetime.

  When she finished counting the beers, she patted her arm dry and grabbed three shot glasses off the shelf. She sensed him watching her every move, and her skin heated under his scrutiny. He wasn’t excessively tall, maybe six feet, but his presence seemed to dominate her five-foot-four frame.

  She wasn’t easily intimidated, but the confidence and power he emanated, combined with the raw sexuality she’d glimpsed a moment ago, made her knees weak.

  Just once, I want to have sex with a man like that.

  God, how she longed for a wild, tumultuous fling that would knock her world off its axis.

  Her bracelets jingled and her mouth watered as she shook the canister of whipped cream. What a waste to put it on the drink when she could squirt it on him… then spend an hour or two slowly and deliberately licking it off.

  “What’s your name?” His voice was huskier than it had been before, and when she met his gaze, the sparks radiating from his blue eyes shot liquid fire straight to her crotch.

  “Oh, crap. Was I thinking out loud?”

  A smile crawled across his mouth, and her heart stopped. “Nope.”

  She blew out a breath, then clenched her eyes shut. Even if she hadn’t spoken, she was sure she’d broadcast her thoughts like an idiot. This was why she never flirted. She stunk at it. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “Sunny. My name’s Sunny.”

  He looked up to the ceiling and said her name a few times, as if trying it on for size. He cocked his head to the side and looked in her eyes. “That’s nice.”

  The charged attraction between them made her jittery as hell. Because of her job, she got hit on often, but she rarely took the bait. At least, nothing more than a little harmless bantering here and there. She had little to no experience in playing sexual games, and it was beyond obvious this man was way out of her league.

  She topped the blowjob off with a shot of whipped cream, and then, careful not to let the tremble in her fingers show, set the drinks on a small serving tray. “Sorry you have to carry that yourself. During the winter things are slow, so we don’t have wait staff on hand. Well, other than me.”
>
  He grinned and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “I think I can handle the tray.” He slid a credit card across the counter, letting go of it only after her fingers brushed his. “Can I run a tab?”

  Prickles of awareness and desire wrapped around her fingers and danced up her arm. She knew he’d asked, “Can I run a tab?” but her body heard, “Can I run my hands all over you?”

  Lord, she could only imagine what it would be like to have him stroking her skin. The pulsating current ripping through her system would probably cause a meltdown. “Sure. You can…” Do anything you like.

  Her desire to close up early had evaporated. She’d be more than happy to stick around for as long as he wanted to stay.

  She glanced across the bar to where three well-dressed women, two blondes and a brunette, sat. Everyone else in the bar was a local, so they must be the women he’d ordered the drinks for. Sunny made eye contact with the brunette, who, in turn, shot her a what-the-hell-is-taking-so-long glare.

  Sunny grinned and cut her eyes to—she glanced at the card in her hand—Gavin McLeod. “You have your hands full with those three.”

  Okay, had that sounded like she was on a fishing expedition? She hadn’t meant it that way, but it would be nice if he volunteered some information regarding his relationship with them. They couldn’t all be sisters, could they?

  He blew out a harsh breath and pushed his fingers through his thick, black hair. “You have no idea.”