All the Right Moves - By Jo Leigh Page 0,3

exchanging grins with Lisa, who picked up her tray and headed for the back.

A chorus of “whoas” couldn’t drown out Spider’s laugh. He was a scary-looking dude with a long shaggy beard and a dozen fading tats trailing up his beefy arms and the side of his neck. But inside he was a teddy bear. She’d heard he hadn’t always been like that. He’d mellowed with age and a short prison sentence, and she was just fine with not knowing the details.

She looked around the room, recognizing every customer but one. That was how it usually worked at the Gold Strike, ever since Tommy bought the place and she’d started bartending here two years ago. A few unfamiliar strays came in throughout the week, some stayed and became regulars, the rest she never saw again.

What she liked best was the diverse mix of military vets, aging bikers, university students and staff from the nearby hospital who frequented the bar. They were a friendly lot, though they didn’t all know each other by name. Occasionally a few airmen from Nellis stopped in, and if it happened that college women were hanging around that day, she was likely to see the same guys again.

But the Gold Strike wasn’t close enough to the base to attract many active servicemen. At one time the place had been a hard-core biker bar on the outskirts of Las Vegas. When the growing popularity of the city meant residential and business areas kept spreading farther and farther out, the bikers finally said adios. Turned out to be a good deal for Tommy.

“Hey, Cassie.” Pete came from the back and slid onto a stool, leaned forward, swept back a stubborn lock of brown hair and stared at her with serious dark eyes. She knew he was twenty-one but he seemed so young she wanted to card him every time he walked in. “Help me out with something,” he said in a low, nervous voice while casting a cautious look toward the pool tables.

“If I can.” She braced her elbows on the bar and leaned over so no one else could hear. “What’s up?”

“I’m making dinner for this girl. I’ve only been out with her once so I wanna impress her.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin neck. But his voice creaked from dry mouth and he kept sweeping stealthy looks toward the back. “I wanna buy wine, but I don’t know what kind or how much I gotta spend.”

Cassie filled a glass with water and set it in front of him. This was normal. For some reason people treated her like an information booth. No question was out of bounds, even though the regulars kept trying to stump her or embarrass her, but she never minded. “Does she drink red or white?”

Pete’s eyes narrowed. “How many kinds are there?”

“Do you know if she even drinks wine?”

His lips spread in a boyish grin. “I figure she does. She’s older.” He lifted his chin at a cocksure angle that he probably assumed was macho, and that she really wanted to tell him not to do. “Twenty-three, I think.”

“Ah.” Cassie got herself some water. “Do you know how to cook?”

“Yeah.” Pete shrugged a shoulder, his chin making a sharp descent toward the bar. “What do you mean?”

She would not laugh, no matter what. “What are you planning to make for dinner?”

“I mean, I can probably follow a recipe.” He drummed his fingers on the ancient scarred oak Cassie tried to keep polished. “You have a suggestion?”

“I do.” She picked up his hand. “First, get the grease out from under your fingernails. Seriously. I know you work on cars for a living, but this is a major turnoff.”

He blushed a little, withdrawing his hand, but didn’t argue. He knew the rule, all the customers did. They could ask her anything. But they had to be prepared for an honest answer.

“And don’t try to cook. It’s hotter than hell. Take her someplace—better than McDonalds,” she added, and he rolled his eyes. “Then when it cools off, go for a moonlit walk along Lake Mead. Drink a beer or two in the car. It’s illegal but only if you get caught.” She winked. “Don’t try so hard. If it happens, it happens. Just don’t bring her here.”

Pete almost choked on his water. He used the back of his arm to wipe the dribble on his chin and glanced at his pool buddies, the merciless bunch. “No way.”

She grinned. “Now get out