17. Your Biggest Fan

Chapter 17

Your Biggest Fan

Agitated as a bag of feral cats, Joy arrived at the Miners Tavern early enough to grab her favorite barstool. A whole week without Adderall was definitely showing its effects, but she felt so much more vibrant without it. Where the drug dulled her mind so she could sort through the stimuli bombarding it, it blunted everything else too. Her appetite, her senses, her feeling of being alive , her emotions, good and bad.

Noah waited on her this time, with Dixie as his co-bartender. Hailey worked a section in the dining room, and a gangly young man played host. With Dixie pulling bartender duty, would Charlie be a guest, or would he help out behind the bar? Would he even show up?

Joy took a healthy sip of her wine and opened her notebook. As she usually did, she scanned the room for inspiration. A couple sitting in sullen silence at a two-top, a foursome laughing too loud while two of them played footsie under the table—were they together, or were they each one half of the other couple?—and a redhead flirting with two guys who looked like they were tourists in college. Oh shit! It was that beer-pouring, Charlie-chasing Germaine!

Germaine spotted Joy at the same time Joy recognized her and narrowed her beady eyes. Then she flounced to the other end of the bar.

Good riddance!

If Lauren showed, the stage would be perfectly set for one hot contractor.

A familiar woman wearing glasses pushed her way inside with a younger woman in tow, nearly barreling over the poor host. The younger woman was either sunburned or embarrassed. The older of the two motioned toward the bar and dragged her companion behind her. They grabbed barstools three down from Joy, and she realized where she'd seen the older woman before: it was Bea from the building department. Oh no! She had spotted Joy, so Joy turned away and pretended to be fascinated by a wooden column at the end of the bar.

They were visible in the mirror, and Joy peeked, observing as they exchanged heated chatter. Not exactly fodder for her romances, but she always found it entertaining to invent stories about people she didn't know.

Suddenly, both women turned toward the opening that led to the back hallway, and their faces morphed into saccharine smiles. Bea waved.

Joy turned her head. There stood Charlie Hunnicutt in all his glory. No Miners Tavern tee for him tonight. He was decked out in a dark green button-down that highlighted the color of his eyes. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the tat and the bits of silver and leather jewelry. Black jeans and a pair of flip-flops completed the laid-back look. His hair was tousled, as if he'd just stepped out of the shower, and his close-cropped beard was neatly clipped to a four-day stubble. He looked … yummy. Which was so annoying. How was she supposed to continue warring with him when she wanted to jump him? Of course, she'd have to get in line, judging by the eyes undressing him, which sobered her right the hell up.

Yeah, she could resist. Who wanted to be lumped in as one more adoring face in the crowd anyway?

"Charlie!" Bea beckoned. "Come say hello to my niece, Becky!"

His expression had been blank when he'd first entered, but now his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Apparently, he had not been expecting these fans tonight. Then his eyes landed on Joy, and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his strong neck.

He held up a tentative hand. "Hey, Bea. Almost didn't recognize you there." He took slow, calculated steps toward them, sending Joy a pointed stare that she couldn't decipher. Meanwhile, the younger woman's ears had turned such a bright fuchsia, a hummingbird might have dive-bombed her thinking they held a treasure trove of nectar.

The situation was so damn awkward it had Joy squirming on her stool.

His smile was subdued as he spoke to both women. Though Joy couldn't hear what they were saying, she read the body language, and it went something like this: Bea was offering him her niece on a platter, the niece was telling him she loved him and wanted to bear him children, and he spluttered excuses in a panic as he searched for the nearest exit.

Dixie broke up the conversation. "Charlie, someone to see you."

He gave her a quizzical look, but she jerked her head toward the back. He excused himself and loped in that direction, the two women frowning at his back. Joy was still observing them when Dixie suddenly appeared across the bar top from Joy, her face so close Joy could smell her perfume. Joy flinched in surprise.

"Could I see you a moment?"

"Um, uh …"

"Now," Dixie commanded through a sweet smile. She motioned for Joy to follow.

Flummoxed, Joy slid from the stool and fell in line. They passed through the hallway with the pictures and arrived in an inky vestibule that appeared to lead to an office or storage area and a back door.

Before Joy's eyes could adjust to the gloom, a large shadow stepped from the darkness. "Dix, what are you up to?" Charlie's deep voice was low and full of questions.

"Why, handsome, I'm saving you from that sneaky Bea and her tentacled niece."

With an amused smirk, Charlie leaned his shoulder against the wall—Joy could see him clearly now—and folded his arms across his chest. "And just how are you planning to do that, gorgeous?" His eyes darted toward Joy.

Joy shrugged. "I have no idea what she's doing or why I'm here."

Dixie pointed a wicked fingernail at her. "You're his line of defense. "

"I'm what?"

Dixie rolled her eyes. "People can be so dense. Good thing you have me." Something rustled behind Joy, and Dixie shoved her into Charlie. "Gotta go before the boss gets mad. You can thank me later." She skedaddled, sending Joy on a collision course with Charlie.

He straightened and unfolded his arms. Joy landed against a wall of hard muscle with an "Oomph!"

His arms surrounded her, cradling her even as she was pushing away. He relaxed his hold, and she began to wriggle free, but he abruptly cinched her tight and pulled her back to him, trapping her hands against his chest.

"Play along," he murmured against her hair, his breath falling hot on her scalp, setting off a ripple of tingles.

Joy's traitorous body flushed with pleasure, and her foolish heart leaped and slammed against her chest wall. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but the solid feel of him under her hands numbed her brain. For a moment, she was lost.

"Charlie, I—oh," someone squeaked behind them.

Joy peeked over her shoulder at a crestfallen Becky. The puzzle pieces clicked into place. Joy melted into him and gave him a long, sultry stare. His eyes smoldered, never leaving hers. Was this playacting or real?

"Excuse me. I didn't realize …" Becky pivoted and fled back toward the bar.

Coming to, Joy blinked and looked at Charlie's shoulder—anywhere but those deep sage-green eyes that burned with intensity. Guilt gave her a little stab.

She braced her palms against his chest and put a few inches between their bodies. "That was a mean thing to do. And very grade school."

"It wasn't my idea." A chuckle rumbled low in his chest, vibrating her palms. He didn't seem remotely sorry. "Take it up with Dixie."

His arms still encircled her waist, and her hands hadn't budged. Heat from his body seeped into her clothes, warming her skin layers-deep. His woodsy bodywash permeated the air, mixed with his own masculine musky smell, invading her senses, making her lust-drunk.

She dared look back up at him. "Why me? Why not Germaine?" Her voice came out shockingly husky.

He slid a hand from her waist to her shoulder. His fingers caressed her hair where it framed her face, his touch featherlight. Her pulse jumped. " Because you don't like me, remember?" he whispered. "Which means you're a safe choice. Dixie picked the right person."

"No," she murmured, "I don't like you at all." As soon as the words left her mouth, his lips were on hers, soft and tentative at first. Her hands glided up, over his pecs to his nape, and her fingers dug into his hair.

A little growl of pleasure vibrated in his throat. The kiss grew more urgent. His tongue nudged her lips, and she opened for him. His grip tightened as he licked into her mouth. Sounds like desperate whimpers escaped her; she was helpless to stop them. They seemed to fire him up, and he angled her head, deepening the kiss, exploring, tasting, taking over as he rocked against her.

"Hubba, hubba," came a low grunt behind them, and they pulled apart like two naughty kids. Joy's heart was racing like a rabbit's in flight.

Charlie scowled. "Dewey? What the fuck?"

"I might say the same to you, young buck. I need to get to the pantry, and you's in my way. We have a business to run here, or maybe you forgot." A wiry man with glasses looked Joy over from head to foot. He grimaced, but she couldn't tell if it was for her or if it was his permanent expression. "Howdy, girlie. You're Helene's other daughter, aintcha?"

"Um, yes. I'm Joy Holiday." She held out her hand.

He shook it, covering it with his other hand in a sweet gesture. "The pretty one, I'd say. No disrespect to the other one."

Charlie snorted. "Joy, meet Dewey Dobbs, our smooth man about town."

"I had your Irish stew the other day," Joy gushed, all nervous excitement. "It was wonderful!"

Dewey's grimace grew wider. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Dixie—who else? "Well, my land, I didn't expect y'all to carry it this far."

"Would you stop that?" Charlie barked.

Dixie batted not-so-innocent eyes at him. "Stop what?"

"Sneaking up on people."

"I don't sneak. I hear things. And from what I was hearing , you two were looking to star in your own porno."

Charlie, who somehow still had one hand on Joy's hip, flashed Dixie a wicked smile. "That was an act. We wanted to make it look good in case a certain someone came back. "

"Well, you made it look mighty good."

Joy agreed inside. It had felt mighty good too.

Dixie fanned herself and looked at Dewey. "You got a few minutes to meet me out back, sugar?" She wiggled her painted-on brows at him.

"Not if this muttonhead here doesn't get out of my way." Dewey pointed an accusing finger at Charlie. To Joy, he said, "Not you, girlie."

Joy curled her lips over her teeth to hold in a smile. "Thank you, sir."

Dixie flapped a hand at Charlie. "Well, you heard the man! Get out of his way."

"Yes, ma'am." Charlie stepped aside, pulling Joy with him. "Have at it, old man."

The "old man" opened the door and propelled his wife outside into a parking lot behind the tavern.

Joy jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Are those two …"

"I wouldn't doubt it." Charlie took a few steps back. One hand smoothed the back of his head, and he shoved the other one into his front pocket. She told herself not to dip her gaze to see if what she'd felt pressed against her mere moments before was as big as it felt and if it was in the same … stiff state. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have done that." Regret was etched in his handsome features, and her ego battened down its hatches.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't think that was all you."

"Maybe not, but I started it, and that was wrong. In fact, it was a big mistake."

Ouch! Big mistake? Just when I was thinking it was the hottest kiss of my life … It's okay, ego. You'll pick yourself up again one day.

Joy had been right about one thing, though—she was Charlie's cover. Gee, didn't she feel special?

"My, you do have your fair share of women problems. It must be hard to be you. Your life is extremely complicated."

"I didn't ask for any of them," he groused. He was almost sympathetic, twisting in the wind the way he was. "And now I have this little problem with credibility with a woman we need on our side." He pinched his thumb and forefinger together.

She canted her head. "Oh, right. What's Bea going to think when Becky tells her you were kissing someone else in the back hallway who isn't Neve? She'll assume you're stepping out on Neve. That's not a good look. "

"She'll think I'm a two-timing son of a bitch who can't keep it in his pants." He paused to scratch his chin. "Except I never told her Neve and I had anything going on. She simply assumed. Maybe this isn't such a bad thing because now she'll assume I'm with you , and I really am playing every field in every town. Why would she want her niece with a guy like that?"

"Right. Because if you're going to step out on Neve with me , you'd probably step out on me with someone else, which makes you a total douche."

"Exactly."

She patted his hard shoulder. Wasn't she the bold one, touching him with such familiarity? Then again, considering that his mouth had been mauling hers only moments before ... "Well, look at the bright side. You're a douche, and I don't want to go out with you. Therefore, you don't need to take me next weekend. Problem solved."

Oh no. His expression shifted into something downright evil. "But I said I'd take you, and you agreed, so I'm taking you." He stuffed both hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"But you don't need to."

"You heard Dixie. You're my line of defense." His voice rose to a drawling falsetto on the last three words.

"Defense against what? Becky won't be there. Oh, wait. I'm sure other Charlie Hunnicutt fans will be, though, right?" She began laughing and couldn't stop.

"What's so funny?" he grumped.

"Nothing. Everything. This situation is so ridiculous. And the look on your face when you first walked in and spied Bea and Becky. And then when Dixie shoved me against you. No one could write this stuff! It's so … so ludicrously comical!"

A thought struck: Could Lacey Dewinter spin this into something memorable? No, no one would believe it.

Charlie parked his hands on his hips. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, princess. At my expense."

Between her bouts of hysterics, she gasped, "W-would you stop calling me that?"

"Not unless you agree we're still going. "

Her laughter subsided into a series of giggles. "All right, you've got a deal. We'll go, but I'm still driving." And damn if she suddenly wasn't looking forward to it—against her better judgment.