Fortune's Fatherhood Dare
Автор
Makenna Lee
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Chapter One
The Chatelaine Report: Money must be a great aphrodisiac, as three of the Fortune Maloney brothers have found love since the beginning of the year. There’s only one left, but we defy anyone to tie Damon Fortune Maloney down. (Though many would like to!) Everyone’s favorite bartender has promised that even after he is wealthy, he has no intention of abandoning the single life. We wonder what it would take to tempt Damon down the aisle...
The day Damon Fortune Maloney left his old, smoking truck on the side of the road and walked into town is the day he used his good credit score and his name—the one that made people think of money—and financed a luxury convertible.
With the surround sound playing the latest number-one country song, he inhaled the rich scent of leather. The buttery soft upholstery covered bucket seats equipped with built-in heat, AC and massage options. The monthly payments were eye-popping to say the least, but he had a plan. Kind of. His sister and three older brothers had received their share of Wendell Fortune’s estate a few months apart, and he was next in line to inherit from a grandfather none of them had ever known.
Damon pressed the gas pedal and merged smoothly into highway traffic, the V-8 engine purring beneath him like a well-satisfied woman. And satisfaction was something every woman deserved. It was one of his top rules.
Several heads turned as he pulled into a parking spot at the Chatelaine Bar and Grill a few minutes before his shift. There would be questions about his new car and the assumption that he’d received his inheritance, which he had not.
It will come soon. It has to.
He couldn’t let himself think otherwise. Until then, he would put off his home renovation projects, and if necessary, he’d pick up an extra bartending shift each week. Rather than tossing his sunglasses on the dash like he’d done with the drugstore pair, he stored his new designer shades in their case. He stuffed a few peppermints into the front pocket of his black jeans and got out of his new silver baby. It locked with a very satisfying chirp of the alarm, something his truck never had. He waved to several regular customers who had paused their conversation to gawk at him. He didn’t stop to field questions about his new car. It was Tuesday, and he was never late on ladies’ night.
As he neared the front door, a little boy of about six ran over to him with his chocolate Lab on a red leash. He recognized the kid from the T-ball team he’d helped coach. “Hey there, Johnny.”
“Mr. Damon, you got candy today?”
“You know it, kiddo.” He tossed a peppermint to the child, scratched the dog behind the ears and then waved to the boy’s parents, who were whispering as they stared at him.
Turning the heads of most women was something Damon had grown accustomed to, but he didn’t usually draw the attention of every man, woman, child and dog. The attention was no doubt because of the shiny silver car and his new ostrich-leather cowboy boots. And in the case of the little boy, it was possibly his pocket full of candy. He’d never needed the fancy accessories to get attention from the female population. The car and sunglasses and boots were just whipped topping.
Chatelaine Bar and Grill was painted across one side of the two-story wooden building. The vertical boards were weathered, and the roof was tin, fitting the mining theme of the restaurant. Damon opened the heavy timber door that led into a waiting area with benches. It was decorated with framed photographs and other props paying homage to Chatelaine’s mining past.
In the dining room, red leather banquette seating stretched along two walls, some of them tucked into alcoves with mood lighting. There were sturdy wooden tables and chairs in the center and along the back wall of windows that looked out over the patio and the natural area beyond. A couple of firepits, scattered seating and a few outdoor games made the patio a fun hangout place.
Damon clocked in, put on the extra white button-up from his locker and made his way to the bar that was off to one side near the back of the restaurant. It was a masculine, antique wooden bar that had once been in a saloon.
Like clockwork, the Silver Ladies—a group of elderly women who had a walking club—arrived with their usual enthusiasm. After a bit of harmless flirtation, they would order their usual one glass of wine and salads before going home to watch their “shows.”
“Hello, lovely ladies. How are all of you this evening?”
“It’s Silver Ladies,” the petite one with lots of jewelry said, and smoothed her gray hair as if to point out the reason for the name.
“My mistake. You should add lovely to the name,” he said, mirroring her smile.
“Look at you, young charmer, making Marybelle titter like a schoolgirl,” said the tallest of the group, but she looked equally thrilled by his suggestion.
He loved making them smile and giggle. In his book, no woman was ever too old for flattery. After filling their drink order, he poured beers for Alec Ramsey and Paul Scott, who had picked out a center table to wait for the rest of the GreatStore employees who were meeting up tonight. Damon had never worked at the one-stop-shop store where you could buy everything from groceries to new tires, but a good portion of the town’s younger residents had worked there at one time or another.
Damon waved to his brothers Lincoln and Cooper as they neared the bar. So much had changed for them lately. Linc was the oldest and most serious of the four brothers, and it wasn’t all that surprising that he was engaged to Remi, a wonderful woman who seemed to be just what his brother needed. But shockingly, Cooper, the wild child of the family, was engaged, and Alana was expecting a baby.
All three of his brothers had settled down, but Damon was definitely not following them down that path. At least not yet. He had big plans to live up the single life, especially once he was a wealthy man.
“Where are your better halves?” he asked, referring to Remi and Alana.
“They’ll be here in a minute,” Linc said. “I’ll have the usual, and Remi wants red wine.”
Cooper shifted his cowboy hat. “Alana wants a sparkling water with mint and lemon. She’s been having some interesting pregnancy cravings.”
“I can do that. Is Max coming Tonight?” Damon asked about their other brother.
“No,” Linc said. “Eliza has a real estate event they had to attend.”
Damon grabbed a mug, filled it with the Rising Fortune’s IPA on tap and then handed it to Linc. He stuck a second mug under the Shiner Bock tap just as Remi and Alana came inside, and they weren’t alone. The strikingly gorgeous woman between them was no one he’d ever seen. He would’ve remembered this goddess with her long, wavy red hair and crystal blue eyes he could happily get lost in. His surroundings blurred, except for the music, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was playing on the sound system or in his head.
Damon jolted when foamy beer overflowed the mug. A cold wet hand and his brothers’ snorts of laughter jerked him the rest of the way out of his fantasy. Well, hell. He yanked the bar towel from his waistband.
“Head in the game, bartender,” Coop said. “I’m not paying for that beer you’re spilling.”
Linc took a sip of his perfectly poured IPA. “Coop, you could buy the whole keg and not even notice.”
Damon ignored his siblings and stole a few more glances at the beauty while cleaning up spilled beer.
“Speaking of buying things... Setting up a room for the baby is majorly expensive. Do you have any idea how much stuff one baby needs?” Coop asked, as if their oldest brother hadn’t pointed out the fact that he was now a millionaire.
“No idea.” Damon set a fresh mug of beer in front of Coop and started on drinks for the women. Obviously, his brothers had not heard about his new car, because if they had, he would’ve gotten the third degree straight away. But in this small town, it was only a matter of time before everyone knew. His defense? It was hard watching his three older brothers and his sister living in comfort and wealth while he still had to scrimp and scrape to make ends meet after paying the mortgage on his 1970s fixer-upper. This wasn’t the place where he wanted to get into the fact that he’d spent money he didn’t have yet.
“Who is the woman sitting between Remi and Alana?” he asked.
Coop chuckled. “So, that’s who you were gawking at. That’s Sari Keeling. She works with Alana at GreatStore, and they have become friends.”
As if Sari had heard them talking about her, she looked straight at Damon. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes widened before she quickly ducked her head. He could take her reaction in a couple of ways. One, she was shy. Two, she didn’t return his interest. Her eyes flickered his way once again, briefly, but he’d caught it. He decided to go with the shy version and see where it took them.
“Sari seems nice,” Linc said, and grabbed Remi’s wine. “You should come over and say hello to her.”
His brothers took their drinks and headed back to the table of friends. Damon liked his job, but missing out on happy hour with friends was a drawback. He served more beer, a few mixed drinks and a scotch on the rocks, then looked around and saw that everyone had a drink, except for the woman he needed to meet. A minute later, Sari headed his way.
Some of her auburn hair fell over one shoulder, trailing almost down to her waist. He imagined what it would be like to run his fingers through the wavy strands and heat washed over him. “Welcome to the Chatelaine, Sari. I’m Damon.”
Her head cocked to the side. “How do you know my name?”
“Special bartender powers.”
She glanced over her shoulder to the table of friends before turning back to him with a smile. “I guess you know everyone over there?”
“I do. Linc and Coop are my brothers. What can I get for you?” He definitely wouldn’t mind getting Sari’s phone number and a date. And once he was wealthy like his siblings, he’d love to wine and dine and spoil this woman in style.
Sari spread her hands on the dark wood bar top as if it were grounding her. Her fingers were long and elegant with no rings and cotton-candy-pink polish on her nails. How would they feel scraping lightly over the skin on his back? He shivered at the idea of it.
“I guess...” She drummed her fingers while looking at the bottles lined up behind him on the shelves. “A white wine.”
“You don’t sound very convinced.” He chuckled and leaned his forearms on the bar top, putting them a few inches closer together. Close enough to catch the scent of peaches. “I can mix a special cocktail just for you. Do you like strawberries or raspberries?”
“Raspberries. They are sweet but also tart on your tongue.”
Just hearing her talk about something being on her tongue made his mouth water. “Good choice. Are you okay with rum?”
“Yes, but no tequila.” She shuddered and got that look on her face that told him she’d once overindulged on that particular liquor.
“Got it. Do you trust me?”
She studied him while worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Hmm. I’m not usually much of a gambler, but since it’s a rare night out for me, I’ll go for it.”
“If you don’t like the drink, I’ll make something else or pour you that glass of white wine, because I never let a woman leave unsatisfied.”
Sari pressed her lips together and her eyes scanned what she could see of him. “Is that so?”
“It’s one of my top rules.”
“What are your other rules?” she asked, and took a seat on one of the barstools.
He was happy to see she wasn’t in a rush to get away from him. “Oh, I can’t tell you yet. I have to really know someone before I reveal all of them.” She was coming out of the shyness he’d first sensed, and he liked it. He dropped fresh raspberries and a couple of lime wedges into a shaker.
With her elbows on the bar, she propped her chin on her clasped hands, watching him intently as if she’d be expected to make the next drink. “We’ve only just met, and I already know two of them. You like to satisfy women, and you don’t share all of your rules at once.”
“It must be a sign.” Damon added sugar to the fruit and muddled them together.
“A sign of what?”
“For one, that you are very observant, and that we should spend some time together so you can discover the rest.”
“What do you call this drink?”
“I haven’t decided. It’s like a raspberry version of a mojito. Maybe you can help me name it after you taste it.”
“Maybe I will.”
He added a few mint leaves and white rum, gave the mixture a shake, and then topped it off with sparkling water. “Have you been in here before?”
“It’s my first time.”
“Firsts can be the start of something good.” What firsts could they discover together?
“Only good?” she asked in an innocent voice, but her eyes sparked with playfulness.
I think I could love this woman.
“Possibly mind-blowing.” He stuck a bright yellow straw in her drink. “Time for the test. And it’s on the house since you will help me name it.”
With her pretty pink glossy lips wrapped around the straw, she sipped and made a satisfied sound. “Mmm. It’s delicious.”
A customer stepped up to the bar before he could figure out a way to tell her he’d like the opportunity to show her how delicious they could be together. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
What rotten timing to have the other bartender running late and one waitress out sick. While mixing a margarita, he watched Alana give Sari a thumbs-up and then they did some kind of coded hand signs that he couldn’t make sense off, but they seemed to be entertained by their silent conversation. To his delight, Sari did wait while he served several customers. Once he got back to her, half of her drink was gone.
“So, have you thought of a good name?”
She licked her lips. “I’m thinking... Berry Delish.”
“Hey, Damon. Can I have a set of darts?” a young man asked.
“Sure thing. Just bring them back when you’re done.” He reached under the bar and grabbed the red and blue set.
Sari turned to see where the guy went. “There are dartboards here?”
“Three of them. You play?”
“I haven’t in a while, but I used to be pretty good.”
When he played, he almost always won. “I have a break in a while. Want to play a game?”
“That sounds fun, but right now, I should stop monopolizing your time.” She stood and picked up her cocktail. “Let me know when you go on your break.”
“You got it.”
While he worked, Damon was having a hell of a time concentrating and made a couple of drinks wrong, but sharing several smiles with Sari made it worth the extra work. When the second bartender finally arrived, Damon told him he was taking a longer break than usual.
He motioned to Sari in a way that asked if she wanted a second drink, and she nodded. He mixed it, grabbed the darts and was glad when Sari got up to come over to him. If he went over to the table, that would waste too much time talking to the group, and he wanted to spend every minute of his break getting to know her.
“Thank you,” she said as she drew close and took the glass from him.
Damon stopped in front of the dartboards that were tucked around a corner, so there was no chance of stray darts accidentally flying toward customers having dinner. “You work at GreatStore?”
“Yes. Since February.”
“Where did you live and work before that?”
“In San Antonio. I worked at a grocery store and then a pet store. I get around,” she said with a smile.
He set the darts on a tall pub table. “Do you get bored easily and need a change?”
“No. I need flexible hours, and employers aren’t always flexible. So I’ve had to change jobs more frequently than I’d like.”
“You should bartend here with me. I’d love to train you.” A pretty pink flush bloomed on her cheeks and her soft laugh made his skin tingle.
“I’m not a night owl, and I’ll probably be ready to go home by eight o’clock.”
Damon looked at his watch. “That’s a real shame. All the best stuff happens after dark.”
“Not in my house.” She hitched both of her thumbs toward her own chest. “Single mom with two toddlers. Ages two and four.”
Damon’s eyebrows arched at two different angles. “Really? I almost carded you because you barely look old enough to drink.”
“I’m definitely old enough for a lot of things.”
He liked the sound of that and wouldn’t mind exploring the topic a bit more. “I’m twenty-seven, and you must be younger than me.”
Sari smiled while sipping her drink. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m old enough that I could have been your...babysitter. I’m thirty-two.”
“No way.” He would have loved having her for a babysitter. He had appreciated the beauty of women for as long as he could remember. Neither her age nor the fact that she had children was a deterrent. “I’m great with kids.”
“Oh, really?”
“Probably because I’m a big kid myself. I’ve never met a kid I couldn’t babysit.”
With her head tilted, she studied him for a moment. “I dare you to babysit my kids.”
