Bucking the Rules by Kat Murray Read Free Book Online Page B

if you come home and Seth’s dressed in a sweater vest!”
    Trace shuddered and wisely kept walking.

Chapter Four
    J o sat down at the bar. The nonworking side, for once. She had a night off, and where did she go? Right back where she’d started. Her own bar. She’d be annoyed and disgusted with herself, if she wasn’t so sure there was literally nothing else to do.
    No movies to see. Nothing on TV. The nearest town had promise, but it wasn’t like she was going to drive out there by herself, only to drive back in the morning. Waste of time and gas.
    So she resigned herself to playing where she worked. It could be worse, though. Most people seemed to give her a decent berth. No married men hitting on her, hoping for an easy lay before they went home to their sweet wives. No weird underage kids hoping to score some beer. No CEO assholes who thought she’d be impressed by the size of their portfolio.
    Nobody. She was still alone in the small town. Still an outsider. And it was starting to piss her off.
    â€œHey.”
    She turned at the familiar voice, and before she could help it, she smiled. “Back for more?”
    Trace gave her a friendly grin. “Can’t resist your . . . selection.” He gave Jenna, the bartender of the night, his order and sat back. So fluid and easy in his skin. His hair was a little damp, like he’d just taken a shower. Because he was coming to the bar? Or because it was a long work day . . . ?
    Didn’t matter. She shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. Amanda, Amanda, Amanda. Amanda has dibs, she mentally reminded herself.
    Her sexual nerve endings were apparently not receiving the memo, because they were getting all fidgety just looking at him.
    â€œNight off for you?”
    She held up her almost-empty bottle. “Yeah, I get one of those every so often. Though when you’re the owner . . .”
    â€œYou’re never really off,” he finished. “Yeah, I’m coming to learn that myself with the ranch. Though it’s Peyton’s thing more than mine.”
    He settled back a moment and watched the screen above the bar, breaking his silence only to thank the bartender when she set the bottle in front of him on a napkin. Jo watched from the corner of her eye, but his line of vision never wandered from the bartender’s face, despite her low V-neck shirt.
    Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t there for women. Maybe he had a woman at home. The thought had Jo taking another mental step back. Shit. Did he? No ring, she could see that easily enough with his hand wrapped around the bottle. And no tan line or indents from a recently-removed band. But not all men wore wedding rings, especially if they worked with their hands all day.
    This was one of the few times not listening to gossip would get her into trouble.
    And why did she care? No. She didn’t care at all. That was Amanda’s problem, not hers. She finished off her beer and headed around the bar to dispose of the bottle.
    â€œWorking even when you’re off.”
    She smiled at Trace as she got a rag to wipe her place down. “I’m not one to leave a mess for others when I’m capable of handling it myself.”
    â€œI’m capable of handling this.” He held up the empty bottle. “Should I go back there and toss it myself?”
    She laughed and shook her head, holding out a hand for the empty. “No, but thanks for the offer.”
    â€œMy Emma raised me right,” he said with a smile.
    â€œYour Emma?”
    â€œHousekeeper when we were growing up. Mama was . . . not quite into the whole motherhood thing. Emma stepped in and did her best for us. Which was pretty good.”
    But not the same as having a mom there. Jo understood. Hadn’t she spent much of her life growing up wishing for a father? A real one, not the constant “new stepdaddy” types her mom brought around who seemed to change as often as the