Free Seeking Shelter by Angel Smits Page B

room was empty, and just a few lights had been left on. The only indication of life was the thumping beat under his boots.
    Behind all the laminate tables with the farmhouse kitchen chairs, beyond the old-fashioned lunch counter, there was a wide doorway. Rick went through and Jace followed him.
    He nearly laughed when he stepped into a scene he recognized. The back room was alive with lights and blaring music, and filled with what seemed to be half the town.
    Here the decor was decidedly darker and oddly, more masculine. He looked around. Was that a moose head on the far wall? What the hell did a moose head have to do with the middle of Arizona?
    A tall bar lined with metal stools ran all the way along the back, the shelf behind it stocked with an impressive amount of liquor. A huge wall mirror provided a view of nearly the entire room. An antique jukebox lit up one corner, and if he used his imagination, Jace could almost see the wooden square of planking as a dance floor.
    “Let’s grab a seat at the bar,” Rick yelled, or at least that’s what Jace thought he said. His lip-reading was rusty at best. He followed and they climbed up on two bar stools at the end. Behind the bar, a young woman stalked back and forth, mixing drinks and smiling at her patrons. Jace looked over at Rick and fought back a laugh. So that’s why the mechanic was here. Not for the drinks. For her.
    Caryn, wasn’t that her name? He remembered her from the diner out front. Except this Caryn was totally different from the tame waitress. This woman wore a form-fitting tank top, tight jeans and the highest heels Jace had ever seen. And from the look of Rick, she apparently walked on water.
    Oh, this was going to be entertaining.
    It only got better when the woman swept down the bar, slammed a beer in front of Rick and glared. He didn’t seem to care. He simply grinned at her and tossed a five onto the bar. “Jace, what you drinkin’?” he yelled.
    “You said you weren’t ever coming back,” Caryn practically screamed at him, not bothering to look at Jace.
    “I changed my mind.” Rick’s cat-that-ate-the-canary grin couldn’t possibly get any wider.
    Jace hadn’t had a drink in nearly two years. He was tempted, but knew that slippery slope was way too steep. Mac wasn’t here to save him this time. Jace didn’t even tempt himself by ordering a near-beer or a club soda to make it look like he had a mixed drink. “Coke,” he ordered.
    Rick, on the other hand, had no such compulsion. He was a straight beer man, and Caryn kept them coming, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Jace fought back a grin. Her glances weren’t just the usual bartender-watching-over-a-customer looks. No, these held a hint of history and a whole lot of hidden agenda. She was as aware of Rick as he was of her. They both had it bad, but were they going to do anything about it? Jace was curious and sat back to watch.
    “Didn’t even know this was here,” he said. He’d been to the diner to eat, but had been focused on his meal rather than looking around at the scenery.
    “Yeah. It’s the nearest bar.” Rick still grinned, his gaze glued to the bartender. “Caryn could never survive on just the diner. This place is good business for her, and it keeps all of us from driving over to Freeman.”
    There was a pride in his voice that surprised and touched Jace. He liked Rick.
    Over the next hour, more people came in, filling nearly every table and stool. Familiar greetings rang out and the jukebox played incessantly. Caryn ran back and forth, filling orders and cleaning up, while Rick watched her every move.
    Jace could see the mechanic’s mouth moving in between swallows of beer. The guy was talking about something, but given the thumping beat of the jukebox and the loud voices, Jace missed most of it.
    To save himself some embarrassment, he looked around the small bar. It was well hidden from the street. The old-fashioned glass windows looked like they