Free Jonesin' For Action by Samantha Cayto Page B

weren’t old enough to be a ma’am. Really, it only meant that they were adult women, and in his world, ma’am and sir were the natural endings to practically every sentence when speaking to someone in authority.
    And this woman definitely ruled her domain. The other two bartenders, both male, treated her with obvious respect. He could see it in their movements around her and the looks they gave her. They liked her, too, as did the customers. He realized the obviousness of it when he saw the bows in her hair were money. Apparently, customers tied bills around locks of her hair. It was the only explanation as she couldn’t have done it herself. His fingers twitched as he imagined running them through her shiny strands of ebony hair. He pointed to the bows when she placed his drink in front of him.
    “Do guys do that every night?” he asked before taking a slug of beer. The cold brew slid down his dry throat and helped to settle his nerves the moment it hit his stomach.
    She shook her head, and the money bows crinkled. “Yeah. One regular started it about a year ago when I first got here and now it’s kind of a thing.” She shook her head again and rolled her eyes. “It’s silly, I know, and depending on the customer, a little creepy. But tips help pay the bills, so…” She shrugged.
    Aidan took another hit of his beer and smiled. “I bet it’s a great way to tell when to cut them off, too. As a sobriety test, tying bills around locks of hair must beat out walking a straight line.”
    She giggled, and perfect white teeth flashed between her plump, pink lips. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. A good point. So,” she asked, arms folded on the bar, leaning into him, “would you like a menu? We have some great bar food. The slider combo is awesome. Add some sweet potato fries and you’ve got a perfect meal to go with that beer.”
    He hadn’t planned on eating, having grabbed something already at the house where he and his buddies were staying. He didn’t care that she was trying to up-sell him because it meant he could stay put longer without drinking too much. If he were clever enough, he could learn when she got off work and make a date for later. “Sounds good.”
    She smiled at him again, and the punch to his gut forced air between his lips. He covered by slamming more beer back.
    “Great. I’ll place the order. Want another round,” she added with a nod to his almost empty glass.
    “Sure.” As he watched her wiggle her cute little ass encased in tiny shorts, he vowed to slow down and nurse the next beer.
    ****
    Marissa smiled and laughed at something a customer said, although she had no idea what it was. Her mind was on the guy at the other end of the bar, the hot sailor with the boyish smile. She had noticed him the moment he entered and realized he was the guy she had seen earlier waterskiing on one leg. Holy crap that had been impressive.
    Given that her shift was about to start, she hadn’t been able wait around to see him when he came off the water. Magically, here he was. He was more impressive up close, totally jacked and gorgeous. How much could nature endow one person with? The fact that he had lost half a leg didn’t detract one bit from his appeal, not as far as she was concerned. She admired how he didn’t try to hide it, either.
    Damn, her shift didn’t end for hours. Some college girl was going to scoop him up before she had the chance. There was only so much drink and food she could ply him with to keep his perfect ass sitting on a barstool, too. If the women trolling the place tonight were stupid enough to ignore him, he would leave and head for another bar. If she had half a brain—and her dissertation professor assured her she had enough for two people—she’d let him know she was interested. Maybe he’d be willing to stick around or come back. Picking up customers was not her style, but this guy was the exception to every rule she knew.
    Telling herself to be bold for a