Free A Heart to Rescue by Ivy Sinclair Page B

uniform at the Rumbling Rock was a tight, nearly transparent low cut t-shirt. She straig htened and took a step back. That extra few inches ensured she was out of Bud's reach, which made her glad as she saw the gleam of lust in his eyes. He hadn't taken them off of her chest. He slowly licked his lips , and Mel felt like a wave of disgust.
    "Anything else?" she said.
    "Just keep 'em comin'," Bud said. "Like I said, we're celebrating. You should grab a glass and join us, Mel. My treat. "
    I'd rather roast in Hell , she thought. "I'm working, Bud."
    Bud looked around the empty room. "Looks to me like you have some free time to fit us in ."
    Mel ignored his comment and walked away. She had no desire to be drawn into further discussion with either Parker brother. That was when she saw that the blue-eyed man at the bar watching her again. Mel stormed into the back room to get a broom, u nwilling t o embarrass herself any further . The floor that she swept twenty minutes ago no doubt needed to be swept again.
     
    Two empty pitchers of beer later, Mel’s teeth ground together from the strain of not saying something highly inappropriate to Bud Parker that would likely get her fired. As she set the third full-to-the-brim pitcher in front of him, she deftly stepped out of the way just as his hand shot out from the booth and grazed her thigh.
    “Quit it, Bud,” she said sharply.
    “Just playin’, Mel,” Bud said. His words were starting to slur. As his eyes drifted down to her chest again, Mel retreated quickly to the bar.
    Max looked up at her and then at the clock above the bar. “I’m going out for a smoke. Cover the bar, Mel.”
    For once Mel was grateful for one of Max’s notoriously long smoke breaks. It meant that she could hide behind the bar until he got back. If the Parker brothers slugged the beer in front of them down the way they did the first two pitchers , they’d have to come up to the bar to get a refill. The wide bar made for an effective barrier. Mel made her way around it and l eaned next to the cash register in the spot that Max had recently vacated. She looked at her watch. Three o’clock. That meant she still had six hours to go until the end of her shift . Mel sighed heavily.
    “Tough day?” The words floated to her from the vicinity of the end of the bar.
    Mel looked up in surprise. She had practically forgotten about the mystery man planted on the last barstool. For a moment, she had no reply. “It’s Monday,” she finally said, as if he should understand the full implications of what that meant in her world.
    “Seems like you have your hands full over there,” he said , jerking his head toward the Parker brothers’ booth .
    Mel wasn’t sure why the man was talking to her. The aura he had given off earlier seemed to say that he wanted to be left alone. Most people who are looking for company don’t spend a Monday afternoon by themselves at a bar. She moved a little closer, taking the bar towel off her hip and started to wipe the bar top. She didn’t want to appear obvious that she was willing to talk, but at the same tim e, she wanted him to keep him engaged .
    Raucous laughter erupted from across the room, and Mel winced. “They’re regulars.” She wasn’t sure if she should say something else, or just keep cleaning. There was a short pause, and she thought that she had lost him.
    “Mel is an interesting name. Is it short for something?”
    Now he had Mel’s full attention. He had been listening when Max said her name and remembered it. She straightened and looked at him closely. “Interesting for a girl, you mean?” Her tone was sharper than she intended. Her friends had given her the nickname in elementary school , and it stuck, even though Mel didn’t really care for it. She had just gotten used to it.
    The man frowned. “Just making conversation.”
    Instantly, Mel felt bad. She wanted to kick herself. A gorgeous guy was sitti ng in her bar and appeared to be actively trying