He was so damn handsome—too good-looking to be let out on an unsuspecting public. And there was such mystery to him, which made her want to dive right in and learn everything about what made him tick. Add to that the most spectacular sex a woman could even begin to imagine, and she was hooked.
But she couldn’t let herself get infatuated with the man. She had to keep her distance. The second he found out about their child, the game would change. He wouldn’t be interested in taking her back to his bed. He’d only want to plant her in front of a judge and take away her baby. With his past and his wealth, that was the only thing that made sense.
She wouldn’t allow that to happen. Although she wasn’t exactly ready to be a mother, especially a single one, the longer this pregnancy went on, the more attached she grew to the tiny being growing inside her. She wouldn’t let Jackson use her baby to replace the one he’d lost.
“Alyssa, some of the customers have requested that you play the piano.”
Alyssa turned to find Kevin, their head bartender, standing there at the waitstaff’s station.
“You know I hate doing that,” she said, but it wasn’t true. She loved to play the piano. It just made her self-conscious when Jackson was in the room.
“Aw, come on. We’re slow tonight,” he pleaded.
“Fine.”
Her heart beating erratically, Alyssa sat down at the piano and played a number from memory. It didn’t take her long to forget where she was as her fingers glided effortlessly over the keys, and her eyes took on a dreamy look. She played one of her favorite ballads from The Phantom of the Opera, “Angel of Music.” As she finished, she opened her eyes and saw Jackson standing near the bar, a look of wonder on his face, and she felt a blush fill her cheeks.
Enough with the sad ballads. Next she began “Bennie and the Jets,” and soon the remaining customers in the bar sang along. Alyssa found herself beaming as she belted out the words in the chorus.
“She’s got electric boots, a magic suit . . .”
As she finished, she raised her head and saw that Jackson hadn’t moved from the bar, his gaze intense as he watched her. Her fingers trembled as she stood up. This connection between them had to be a fluke. It couldn’t be real.
Jackson pushed off the bar and moved toward her. “I could listen to you play all night, Alyssa.”
“I enjoy the piano.” Obviously. What a lame statement.
“You were meant to play. We need to try a duet.” His eyes were intense and his double meaning was clear.
“I think our time for duets has passed, Jackson.”
“It sure as hell doesn’t feel that way to me.”
“Jackson . . .” His name came out almost as a sigh, and she saw shutters close over his eyes seconds before he turned and strode away. Was she making a mistake to keep throwing him over? He wasn’t backing down, and the attraction between the two of them remained undeniable.
More confused than ever, Alyssa took a few minutes alone in the back room before returning to the bar. Tonight, for some reason, she had to struggle harder than usual to keep her distance from the man, and he was making it more and more clear that he wasn’t letting go of their one night together.
Even worse, she was beginning to wonder what was wrong with her. Why wasn’t she accepting the offer he was extending to her? Just then she felt a stirring in her stomach and her hand trailed downward. It was as if the baby she carried was reminding her of his or her presence.
Oh, yeah. Jackson had no clue that he was going to be a father. That was a pretty dang good reason to keep her distance.
After another hour of slow business, it was time for Alyssa to leave. There was no need to keep a cook, two waitresses, a bartender, and a busser on the clock when there were fewer than a dozen customers, most of whom were sitting at the round bar in the middle of the place.
She’d normally be the one to stay—she needed all the hours she could get—but Samantha had a few of her favorites there tonight, and Alyssa’s feet were aching, so she bowed out gracefully.
“I’m walking you out,” Cody said when he saw her grab her coat.
“You know you don’t have to do that every time I leave,” Alyssa said with a chuckle. She seemed to have her own personal bodyguard all of a sudden.
“Yes I do. Mr. Whitman will hang me by my toes if I don’t. Besides, he’s right. A woman should always be accompanied outside,” he said as he offered his arm.
Wanting to be irritated, but deciding Cody’s behavior was quite sweet, Alyssa accepted his arm.
“We’re sneaking out the back door. I want to be long gone before Mr. Whitman tries to corner me again,” Alyssa said, feeling like a thief in the night.
“No prob, Alyssa.” Cody opened the back door, and the crisp spring air came as welcome relief to the stuffiness inside the saloon.
“Thanks for doing this, Cody. You’re a sweetheart,” she said as they reached her car. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“I like to, Alyssa. Besides, it gives me an excuse to have a smoke and play a game of Flappy Bird,” he said with an almost childlike grin.
Before Alyssa could launch into an antismoking lecture, they were interrupted by one of her regulars, who was a little drunker than usual. “Where are you off to in such a hurry? I was waiting for you to come back with my next beer when Samantha showed up instead.”
Hank stood at just under six feet, with graying hair and dull gray eyes that looked a little too vicious when he’d had too much to drink. His normally happy smile was gone, and in its place was a leer that creeped her out. It wasn’t helping that they were standing in a nearly empty parking lot.
At least the lighting was better now that Jackson had fixed it. She had to admit he was true to his word—when he said he was going to get something done, he did it, and did it fast.
“I’m off work now, Hank. Do you have a ride home?” she asked, hoping and praying that he wasn’t going to get behind the wheel of a car.
“Nah, I can drive just fine. Come on, I’ll show you.” He stepped a little too close.
“Why don’t you let me call you a cab?” she said as she reached into her purse.
“I said I don’t need one,” he snapped, swatting the cell phone out of her hand.
Alyssa’s temper flared as she stooped to retrieve the phone. “That was rude, Hank. And I hope it didn’t break.” It wasn’t as if she could afford to replace it.