He grinned back. “I find it creates an air of mystery."
“Or suspicion,” Steve said, standing beside me, his brow furrowed.
“You have to forgive Steve,” I said and poked Steve in the shoulder playfully. “He thinks he’s my big brother.” I frowned at Steve but he didn’t budge. Finally, he sighed and went back to his side of the bar.
I turned to the man who called himself Beckett, barely able to suppress a smile. He glanced up at me.
"There's that smile again," he said, his eyes twinkling, his voice very sexy. "I'm glad I amuse you, because it's a very pretty smile. Très belle. Maybe when you get off work, you'll let me buy you a drink so I can see you smile some more."
I snorted at that. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Mr. Just Call Me Beckett mystery man…" I said. "Back home I work in a bar surrounded by cops. I've heard every pickup line you could imagine. I need something really innovative to pique my interest."
"I'll bet you do." He grinned and finished his drink. "Tell you what, sha,” he said, the way they say the French word cher in the Bayou. “You pour me another one and I'll work on something really innovative."
"Don't bother." I grabbed the bottle of bourbon and poured another shot. Then, I put the bottle down on the bar. "I pulled a double shift today."
"You should relax after your double shift. Have a drink with me. "
"Sorry. When I get off, it's right straight home to sleep for me. I work all day again tomorrow."
"Sh
ame," he said, his eyes roving over me. "I'm only in town for a night."
"Shame," I said and grinned back, deciding to play it a bit dangerously, seeing as nothing was going to happen between us.
I went to the other end of the bar where Leah stood.
“What did he say?” she said, practically drooling over him. I noticed Steve floated over to where we stood and bent down to fiddle with the ice bin.
“He asked me to have a drink with him after work,” I said quietly, feeling a bit weird because Steve was listening in. “I told him no.”
“You’re crazy,” Leah said, eyes wide. “He’s a total babe.”
“He’s too rough for you,” Steve said and stood up, nodding at me like he approved of my decision.
Leah made a face. “It’s none of your business, Steve.” She glanced over at Beckett and sighed. “He looks high end to me. I told you the watch he’s wearing is a Cartier. Expensive. Like thousands of dollars. And those jeans? DKNY Men. He’s no biker.”
“He probably got the watch off the corpse of someone he murdered,” Steve said with a snort.
“Oh, you,” she said and made a face at Steve. “Not everyone’s a criminal.”
“Bikers are, mostly.”
“You’re crazy,” she said again and took the drinks off the bar, putting them on her tray.
“Certifiably,” I said with a laugh, giving Steve a grin. He seemed so serious all the time. I went back to the other end of the bar and wiped the top.
"So," I said, enjoying Beckett’s attention in spite of my earlier hesitation. "A stranger comes into town and all the locals wonder why he's here in Topsail Beach, of all places." I hadn't planned on talking to him, but I'd been through a long dry spell since Dan died and Beckett was so pretty, I had a hard time not flirting with him. "You a biker?”
“I ride a Harley, yes,” he said. “I love working on engines and have since I was a kid. Nothing makes me happier than when I’m up to my elbows in grease and listen to an engine I’ve just fixed purr. Other than riding, that is.”
“You must have some business here."
"I'm staying at the Yacht Club, scouting out locations for a staff retreat I’m planning.”
I frowned. "The Yacht Club?” I said in disbelief.
“Why do you find that hard to imagine?”