Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 138588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138588 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Can I help you with those?” Callie Hollister-Wright gave him a big grin. She was a pretty brunette with shining eyes and a smile capable of lighting up a room. She had a Santa hat on her head and blinking Christmas tree lights she wore as earrings.
She was also married to the sheriff, who didn’t trust Sawyer. And for good reason. “I just need to set these down and then I’ll get out of everyone’s hair.”
Callie leaned over to pet the dog, who was drooling, though Callie didn’t seem to care. “Why would you say such a thing? Come on in and stay awhile. It’s cold out there. You need to warm up. Though be careful with the eggnog. Max spiked it.”
“You should have known that would happen.”
She straightened up, lips curling in a mischievous grin. “Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if it was only Max. I’m afraid Van spiked it, too. And Ty. And then Mel added a couple of drops of his whiskey tonic…”
“Let me guess.” Despite how out of place he felt, a smile crossed his face. This town was beautifully weird. “To keep the aliens away.”
The old man was serious about keeping the aliens away.
“You know it’s high mating season for… I don’t remember what he called them, but the outcome for us is the eggnog is seriously spiked.” She frowned. “It’s too much. I was hoping for something sweet with a little kick, but I’ll have to settle for a beer, I guess.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “I thought you brought in a full bar for these things.”
She nodded. “Yeah, but it’s kind of a self-service thing, and I am not a bartender.” Her stare focused in on him. “Not like you are. You know there are rumors you once worked at a super-fancy hotel in Denver and know how to make way more than you pretend to.”
He shouldn’t. He should run and run fast. The sheriff wouldn’t like Sawyer mixing his wife’s drinks. And yet he couldn’t quite turn her away. Callie was kind to him despite knowing as much as she knew about his past. “I’ll see what you have. You want sweet, right?”
“So it is true. You pretend to only know how to pour beer,” she said as though she’d solved a mystery.
Sawyer placed his gifts on the big table designated for them and sighed. “I might be better than I tell people, but honestly, I don’t get many requests for espresso martinis at Hell on Wheels. And I might be out of practice, so this could be terrible.”
He made his way to the makeshift bar and quickly figured out his best bet was a chocolate martini. He found the shaker and was pouring it out for Callie in no time at all. Dog sat patiently beside him, her tail thumping.
She needed a name.
“Here you go.” He slid the glass Callie’s way.
Her eyes lit up. “It looks delicious.”
Sawyer frowned. “You know I’m not the only bartender here.” He pointed across the room. “Alexei literally tends the bar at your restaurant. And so does the new kid. Van.”
She shrugged. “But you’re here.”
Jen Talbot strode up, slapping a hand on the bar and giving him a long-suffering sigh. “Thank the universe. Sawyer, I’m going to need one of those. Max ruined the eggnog, and I don’t know what is in the thing Nell brought. She said it was an old recipe from her momma, and she called it winter’s dew. I don’t think it sounds good. She said it’s the essence of winter, which is pretty much snow and cold.”
Jen kind of scared him so he made a big shaker full. Like her best friend, Rachel Harper, Jen could be quite a lot to handle, but then most women in Bliss were. “Here you go. This should take care of you for a couple of drinks.”
Jen took a sip, and her eyes closed. “Damn, it’s good. I thought Alexei knew how to make a martini.” Jen pointed his way. “You are a keeper, Sawyer…” She frowned. “I don’t know your last name.”
And he was okay with that. It wasn’t like he was angling to get invited to dinner. It wasn’t like he wanted to belong here. “It’s just Sawyer.”
“Okay. Maybe I don’t know your first name,” Jen acknowledged, and then her attention was wrenched away as two small boys ran by like whirling dervishes. “Logan Talbot and Charlie Hollister-Wright.”
Both boys froze like they were playing Simon Says and Simon had said freeze.
Jen moved in front of her son, wrinkling her nose with obvious affection. “Slow down.”
“Yes, momma,” the little boy who looked an awful lot like Stef Talbot said.
“Yes, Auntie Jen,” Charlie Hollister-Wright replied politely. And then they were off again, though slightly slower this time.
They ran past a woman in a red sweater and jeans, her dark hair flowing around her shoulders.