The Billionaire's Beautiful Mistake (Bold Alaskan Men Book 1) (2 page)

She glanced over at the bar, then quickly away when she realized he was staring right back at her.  For several moments, she held her breath, the muscles in her body tightening with awareness.  It was crazy, she thought, as she slowly released her breath.  Whew!  She had to keep her eyes from…

Oh my!  A blond woman with painted on jeans and the tightest shirt, which showed off more than it hid, just walked into the bar.  And yawza!  That woman had a pair on her!  Those beauties were huge!  Violet bit her lower lip as the woman leaned over, her blood-red lips smiling up at her…um…THE bartender. 

And just that quickly, all the excitement of the night vanished.  The gorgeous man laughed at whatever the bodacious blond said and winked. 

Violet’s shoulders sagged with defeat and disappointment.  Not that she’d thought she had a chance with the bartender.  Not in any way or in any world in which she inhabited.  She was mousy and boring.  The blond was way more the bartender’s type. 

Her friends were laughing about something, she had no idea what.  But she forced a smile to her face, and pretended to be laughing as well.  Unfortunately, the night had lost its luster the moment Blondie had walked in.  She hated women with boobs.  And she hated women with blond hair. 

For a moment, she stared down at her own jeans.  They weren’t tight, but were comfortable and well worn, nothing to make a man’s eyes pop out of his head like that woman’s boobs. 

Ugh!  She was obsessing about another woman’s boobs!  This was ridiculous. 

“Hellooooo!” Beth was calling out. 

Violet blinked, and suddenly realized that everyone was staring at her.  “Sorry, what?”

The four others laughed, although Violet had no idea what could be so funny.  Then the empty pitcher was plunked down in front of her.  “We’re out of beer.  We’ve all nominated you to get another pitcher, since you get them free.”

Violet instantly started shaking her head.  “No, I can’t…”

She didn’t have to.  A full pitcher of beer was set down in the center of the table.  While the ladies around her cheered and clapped, Violet gasped with the heat that seared her shoulder.  The tall, gorgeous bartender’s hand was resting on her shoulder, and she knew, absolutely knew, that the skin underneath her sweater would blister because of the heat coming from his hand. 

Her eyes snapped up to his, and the noise of the bar faded away.  His dark eyes had the same effect as his hand, searing through her body, right down to her stomach.  Clenching her fingers in her lap, she refused to let her hand reach up and touch that hard jaw.  And no way was she going to run her fingers over the tanned skin of his forearm.  It wasn’t any business of hers to know if the dark hairs on that forearm were soft or rough.  No way!  Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, trying to resist the urge to reach out and touch him. 

“I’ll take care of you,” his deep voice said.  Had his lips actually brushed her ear?  Impossible!  She was imagining things. 

When she looked up again, he was gone.  And damn him!  He needed to un-tuck that shirt from his soft jeans so that she wasn’t scoping out his….

The silence finally hit her, and she swung her head back to her friends.  All of them were once again staring at her, but this time, their mouths were hanging open.  Just like hers, probably. 

Jerking upright, she blinked, trying to get her head back in the game.  “What?” she asked as she reached for the new pitcher and started to pour the beer.  But she had to stop because her hand was shaking too badly. 

“You have it bad,” Beth commented, with a kind but excited smile. 

Debbie agreed.  “I think he does as well,” and she nodded her head over at the bar. 

Sure enough, the bartender was looking right at Violet. 

Violet ignored everyone’s teasing laughter when her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink.  “We’re not here to set me up.  We’re here to celebrate Jane’s wedding!”

Sherry, the fifth in the group and newly married herself, laughed once again.  “Honey, we are experts at multi-tasking.  Right ladies?”

All of them lifted their beer mugs into the air, but Violet only sipped her beer.  She wouldn’t look at the man again.  He had Boobie Barbie to look at.  Violet’s little C cup boobs were hidden away underneath a sweater, barely even recognizable as breasts.  Especially compared to Ms. Quadruple D Cup Boobie Barbie at the Bar! 

Good grief, Violet admonished herself, alliteration was getting out of control.  She focused on the conversation at the table, which mostly consisted of advice to Jane about how to handle the first year of marriage and how to get through the weeklong honeymoon.  “Men will want it all the time,” Debbie was saying, while rolling her eyes. 

“And once you’re married, guys think it is their right!” Beth added. 

The glum advice about married life continued, and Violet wasn’t sure what to think.  She wanted to be married, desperately wanted a man to share her life with.  But the way Debbie, Beth and Jane were talking, maybe remaining single was the best option.  She didn’t want to have to clean up after a man all the time, or deal with him coming home drunk after being out with his buddies until all hours of the night.  And she definitely didn’t want to have to fight off her husband when he made a pass every night, demanding sex. 

Was this really what married life was like? 

She had no idea.  Her mother raised her after her father had left them.  And after her mother had married George, the man who was ostensibly her stepfather, it hadn’t been a good relationship. 

Her mother was gone now, having passed away from cancer a few years ago and the loneliness that haunted her most nights could sometimes be painful.  Was that why she let George hang out at the store so often even though he wasn’t pulling his weight? 

Taking a deep breath, she wondered why anyone got married.  She glanced over to the bar again, her body jerking to life once more when she noticed that the bartender was still watching her.  His eyes looked…was that concern in his eyes now? 

She didn’t want pity!  No way!  Pity was for people without choices.  She had choices and a good life. 

She pushed the man from her mind, not wanting to think about men or marriage or her lonely nights when she craved a warm man to cuddle up to instead of piling on another blanket.  Alaska nights could be cold, but that didn’t mean she wanted…she could deal with…

She was strong and had a good life.  With a sigh, she dismissed the man.  Or tried to.  He’d probably be going home with Boobie Barbie tonight anyway. 

Tucker, Knox and Saeger walked into the bar at that moment and Creek almost groaned with irritation.  The four of them owned The Rotten Apple together, each owned their own mountain and had basically adopted the small town of Winthrop, Alaska.  No one in the town really knew the full extent of each man’s wealth, but just one of them alone could make stock markets in different countries fluctuate with a single statement.  So saying each man was a powerhouse in the world of business was understating their influence.  They lived in Alaska, but when one of them left the state, the rest of the world quaked with fear of what would come next.  Creek’s business empire was built on oil.  Not so much retrieving oil from the ground, although he had a company that did exactly that.  But the bulk of his wealth came from making oil work better.  He had a team of chemists that figured out how to refine the oil more effectively or create additives that made the oil more efficient. 

And he invested in other companies that applied the same technology to improving gas and oil usage.  At one point, he’d been offered an obscene amount of money to stop his work.  Problem was, at that time, his net worth was higher than the amount offered. 

Besides, he enjoyed his work, he enjoyed the mental challenges. 

And yes, he enjoyed working at The Rotten Apple.  The four of them worked long hours in their mountain homes managing their various empires.  They needed the mental downtime that tending bar or stocking the bar, even cleaning the tables and waiting on the customers provided.  Not to mention, these were good people.  They were down-to-earth, hardworking men and women who risked their lives most days in order to make enough money to put food on the table for their families.  Working at The Rotten Apple grounded Creek, made him remember what was important.  It also helped him to know what was going on in the world and gave him ideas.  Hearing these men and women talk about their work, their days and their challenges gave him ideas on how to make life better.  Sometimes the ideas were specific to this community but most of the time, he could send his ideas out to one of his companies and tell them to make something work. 

He suspected that Knox, Saeger and Tucker did the same thing, and used The Rotten Apple in the same way.  All of them were big guys, loved the challenge of the business world, and all four of them would jump on any daredevil idea thrown their way.  Surfing bore tides was their latest adventure.  And when the surf was up, all four of them would be down on the channel, surfing for as long as their skills could take them.  Creek’s record was riding the spring bore tide for twenty miles.  That had been a great run and he was hoping to top that this next year. 

Right at the moment, his challenge was getting that shy beauty to look his way again.  On a normal night, he would have simply sat down and talked to her, learned more about her.  But she was in a group celebrating tonight which put him at a disadvantage. 

He had to resist the urge to pull her out of that chair, drag her into the dance area and simply wrap his arms around her.  She looked like she could use a shoulder to cry on right at the moment and he had some big ones. 

Unfortunately, even while he wanted to comfort her, his body also wanted to make love to her in the most desperate way.  He stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses, serving up beer and whiskey, mixing the occasional cocktail, and all the while, his body throbbed with the desire to strip her naked and make love to her for the next twenty-four hours.  Maybe even longer! 

When she got up to use the restroom, his eyes couldn’t stop absorbing every detail of the woman’s petite figure.  Normally, he went for the tall women.  But there was something about this little lady that set his body on fire.  Never had he felt this instant and furious desire for another woman. 

“Okay, time for bed!” Jane called out, lifting her hands into the air and laughing at whatever had just popped into her mind. 

Debbie, Sherry and Beth all agreed, but still groaned when they pushed their chairs back and stood up.  The bar was still full of patrons, but it wasn’t rowdy or brutally crowded although Violet didn’t understand why.  The beer was superior and there wasn’t that disgusting stale beer smell that normally permeated bars.  Everything was clean and comfortable. 

She pulled her keys out of her purse and started herding the other ladies towards the door. 

She was hiding.  Oh yes, she was definitely hiding!  As she managed to get her group going in the right direction, she made sure to stay behind at least one of them, not wanting Creek to see her again.  She was painfully self-conscious of her small boobs and her well-worn jeans.  Her hair wasn’t streaked with interesting highlights and she’d barely bothered to put on makeup.  She was so completely different from Boobie Barbie and she didn’t want to be compared because Violet knew she’d come up lacking.  In every department!

“Going so soon?” Creek asked, stepping behind her and putting a gentle hand on her elbow.

Violet swung around, startled because she’d thought he was still behind the bar.  Darn it!  She should have looked!  She should have figured out his position before she’d tried to sneak out. 

“Yes,” she replied, glancing down at her boot covered toes. 

“Do you need a ride home?  I can just…”

Violet quickly shook her head.  “I’m actually the designated driver,” she said, ignoring the warm sensation that snuck up her body with his offer.  It was sweet, but he probably offered that to anyone.  “Thank you.”

Violet realized that her friends were already out the door.  “I have to go,” she told him, feeling self-conscious. 

He stopped her.  “Come on back another night,” he encouraged.  “You never know what specials are happening.”

Violet smiled, looking up at him once again.  She didn’t understand the look he was giving her and she felt too inept to simply speak out and ask him why he was stopping her.  So instead of setting herself up to look foolish, she bowed her head again and said a simple, “Thanks.”

Hurrying out the door, she berated herself for being so shy and insecure.  Darn it, why could she negotiate with the toughest vendors and artists, but when it came to men, especially handsome, gorgeous, tall, and fascinating men like Creek – she became a silly schoolgirl, hiding and cringing away from any sort of connection?

As her friends piled into her Jeep, she looked back at the bar.  Violet had to clench her hands to the steering wheel to keep herself from rushing back inside.

“Oh!  Wait!  I forgot something!” Beth exclaimed, as she jumped out of the vehicle and hurried back inside. 

Violet watched, the warm lights of The Rotten Apple beckoning her to go back inside and give Creek her phone number.  Wasn’t that how things were done?  She could just write her number down on a piece of paper and hurry out.  If he didn’t call, she’d be no worse off.  If he did call…!