Page 2 of Rocky Mountain Home

He settled onto the barstool and waved at the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The grey-haired man stepped forward and held out a hand. “Then you’ll be giving me your car keys.”

Sounded as if some serious drinking was about to happen. Fine by him.

“I’m staying.” Jesse showed his room key.

Bartender didn’t move. “That decreases your chances of freezing in a snow bank, but I still want your keys. You can pick them up at the front desk in the morning.”

Whatever. He tossed them over before leaning closer to the redhead to offer his hand. “Jesse.”

“Dare.” She shook his hand, her grip strong, and her palms rough enough to prove she wasn’t wearing the cowboy gear as a costume.

“A working woman. I like that.”

Dare took a sip from the lone glass of water in front of her, amusement rising. “You look the type who likes a lot of things about women.”

Jesse shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a happy guy.”

This time she looked him over for longer, her gaze lingering on what was soon to be a spectacular blue-purple bruise by his eye. “You like getting in fights?”

“Sometimes, but this?” He stroked a finger down the side of his face. “Farewell present from my cousin. Disagreement.”

She met his gaze. Judging. Weighing him. “Oh. That thing guys do.”

“Express our opinions with our fists? Yeah. It’s a pretty natural form of communication for most men.”

Her gaze dropped and she stared at his lips. “You fighting over a woman?”

He honestly didn’t know how to answer that. “Not a fight, but there was definitely a woman involved.”

She snorted. “I bet. There’s always a woman involved.”

Jesse took the opportunity to admire her in more detail. Her hair shone in the lights above the bar, the deep auburn highlights flashing as she moved. A slight indent showed on the crown where she’d been wearing a cowboy hat, and his interest grew even stronger. “So, Dare, why’re we having a party?”

“It’s a wake,” she corrected him. “Ten years they’ve been gone, and five since I started the tradition. But you don’t need the details.”

“Whatever you say.” He eyed the drinks lining up in front of them. “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

He might have been curious, but he didn’t need to know what she was commemorating. He knew what he was saying goodbye to, and he could finish most of the alcohol on the shelf without putting a dent in his pain.

Jesse lifted the first glass of amber liquid, three full fingers in the tumbler. Raised it in a salute to Dare. “Here’s to forgetting everything except the pretty lady by my side.”

Her lips curled at the corners, but she touched glasses with him before tipping the drink back and finishing it in a few swallows. Her throat moved smoothly, and he stared, mesmerized, until she lowered the glass to the counter with a solid crash.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before pointing at his glass. “You drinking or watching?”

The whiskey was smooth—far too smooth to be tossed back like a dirty shot. He took a little more time and let the liquid linger on his tongue, looking her over with appreciation. “We’re not going anywhere tonight,” he pointed out. “There’s no need to rush.”

Dare nodded once. “I usually do this by myself. I forgot there’s conventions involved with social drinking.” She picked up the second glass. “To the guy who reminded me it’s okay to slow down and taste the whiskey.”

Another toast. Another touch of their glasses together. This time she rolled the liquid over her tongue before she swallowed, eyes closing as she lifted the glass in an additional silent, internal toast.

As for Jesse, this one was for his twin brother, Joel. His other half—although that hadn’t been true for a good long while. Their separation, his own damn fault.

He finished the drink and lowered the glass to the counter a little harder than he should have, the bartender keeping a careful eye on them.

Two more whiskeys sat on the counter. Dare motioned toward them. “I’ll pay. I like the company so far, and it’ll be no fun if you have to stop before we’re finished.”