Secret Billionaire's Stubborn Cowgirl (The Secret Billionaires 1)

Chapter One

The sound of the slap echoed around the small bar. Lucy Ennis looked down at the hand planted on her ass and then up again.

“Hey, sugar. Come sit on daddy’s lap.” Sid grinned at her, his face glowing from one beer too many.

She’d have liked nothing more than to punch him—Sid always got grabby after the seventh beer. But she needed this job. “Honey, you don’t want to be losing that hand, so I suggest movin’ it. Now, Sid.”

He did, muttering how he was only trying to be friendly. She moved away and ducked behind the bar again, plopping down the case of Bud onto the counter that she’d pulled from the back. She started restocking the cooler.

Maggie came up to the bar, a pencil tucked behind one ear. “Two Coors for the corner table and Ms. Tyler wants another martini.” Maggie plunked down an empty martini glass on the bar.

With a nod, Lucy started pulling out the cold Coors. “Three hours left.” She shifted on her feet. She had a bar mat behind the bar, but it didn’t help that much with a ten hour shift.

Twirling a curl around her finger, Maggie glanced around. “Yeah, with this slim a crowd it’s going to seem like twenty. Not great for the tips.” Maggie sat down at the bar. “What we need are a couple of rich old boys we can marry and bury.”

Pushing the bangs from her damp forehead, Lucy forced a smile. “Rich is nice, but I’m hanging out for a hard-working man. I want steady.”

“Honey, with the bills you’ve got hanging over you from your mom being so sick and your dad—”

“Here’s that martini. Better get it out to Ms. Tyler before she gives you no tip for it being warm.”

Maggie jumped off the bar stool. “Trust me, honey, go looking for rich.” The front door swung open, the hinge creaking. A man walked in, and not one of their regulars.

Maggie flashed Lucy a grin. “No shame in calling yourself a gold digger, hon.” Hips swaying in tight jeans, Maggie headed off to deliver her drinks.

Glancing over to the door, Lucy tried to size up the newcomer.

He’d turned to the side and was pulling off a battered straw Stetson. The stained brow band told of a lot of years of work and the sagging brim mentioned the Stetson had been worn in all weather. He brushed at a cap of dark curls. His Wranglers looked worn by work, the knees dusty and saggy, his boots rode a little low at the heels. But under his dark brown coat and plaid shirt, she could see muscles and a flat stomach. The coat was a good one—durable, nothing fancy. Just your everyday scrumptious working man, she decided. Then he looked straight at her.

Her heart slammed into her ribs hard enough to steal her breath. She’d heard about attractions like this—instant and powerful. Her mom had had such a fling in her youth—she’d told Lucy about it just last week. But Lucy had never expected to feel this hot flare, this sizzle under her skin, this instant connection and need.

She glanced away, focused on wiping down the bar, but she could still feel his eyes—those bright, bright blue eyes on her. Boy could she go with waking up next to those eyes every morning.

Stetson back in place, he walked to the bar, sat down and lifted a finger. “Draft please. Whatever you got on tap’ll do.”

She glanced at him. Was she mistaken, or was he eyeing her a little carefully—had he heard Maggie call her a gold digger? Well, a working guy like him had nothing to worry about. He looked like maybe he rode the rodeo circuit—or maybe he just drifted. She had no use for that kind of guy—she was looking for a man who could settle down in one place and make a home. A man totally unlike her dad.

Snapping out of her daydream about him, Lucy nodded. He might be cute, but she was just a bartender to him. “Coming up!” Pulling a ch

illed mug out of the cooler, tipped it under the peg and filled it slowly. There was an art to getting just enough foam to look good without so much that you didn’t get any beer. Placing the mug in front of him, she watched as he sat back and enjoyed the first sip of his drink.

“You new around here?” she asked.

He licked his lips. “Might say that.”

“Looking for work?”

“Might say that, too.”