Stirring Up Dirty

Published by Evernight Publishing ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2015 Kacey Hammell

ISBN: 978-1-77233-425-8

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Jessica Ruth

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To the readers who have written about Candy, wanting her story since she appeared in DARE. Here she is. I hope you enjoy her story!

To Jilly, who fell in love with Eric (and Drew), and gives me the much needed kick in the pants sometimes when I need it. Huge thank you, for your friendship and support.

To Jackie. Thanks for being in my corner and enjoying Eric and Candy’s story.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Jackie, thanks for your critical eyes on this story, and being in my corner.

Jessica, thanks for all your editing expertise and being so fabulous to work on edits with!

STIRRING UP DIRTY

Stirred by Love, 1

Kacey Hammell

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Candy Wilson opened the large wooden door with one powerful tug. The weight of the thing was enough to nearly squeeze her into the frame as it tried to close, but she managed to hold it open.

Pulling off her sunglasses, she squinted. After the glaring sun, white dots danced before her eyes as they adjusted to the darkened interior. An interesting décor of wood, country motif and rustic surroundings made her wonder if she’d walked into the Wild West instead of a said-to-be quaint town in Canada. Not her normal place to dine. But she had to admit, the burgundy leather seating, the smiles on the patrons’ and waitresses’ faces, and soft music playing through the room gave it a homey feel she hadn’t expected.

Hell, she’d never been to Canada in her life. She didn’t know what she’d expected.

Table for one?

She turned and smiled at the girl who’d greeted her. Candy guessed her to be around seventeen and she thought the girl pretty in her get-up of a black plaid shirt, jeans, and pink cowgirl hat.

Jesus, now she was talking like she was in some honky-tonk.

Yes. Table for one.

Dining room or bar? She pointed to each area.

Actually, I’ll sit at the bar, please. It was nearing seven o’clock. A nice cocktail would go down good. Something sweet and rich.

Right this way. She followed the young cowgirl to the end of the bar. Someone will be right with you. He’s just finishing a drink at the other end. Enjoy.

Candy returned the smile, then scooted onto the high-back stool. Thank you, hun.

She glanced around, taking in the muted flat-screen TV in the corner, the small round tables surrounding the bar. The gorgeous deep red wood caught her eye. What a beautiful color. She ran her hand over the matching bar. Smooth and cool to the touch, she liked the darkness of it. Sleek and sexy, it drew her in with its classiness. Homey wasn’t usually a word in her vocabulary but it was today.

What can I get ya? a voice said from behind the bar.

She glanced up, and the smile slowly fell from her face. Dear Lord, did Alberta grow their men fine.

This hunk, with short curly black hair and deep brown eyes… She licked her lips. Gosh, she was thirsty. She loved a tall, dark and extremely handsome man, and this one, dressed in a tight red t-shirt, fit the bill.

If only she was here for fun and frolic time. But she wasn’t.

She lifted her gaze to his. Damn work. Letting out a deep sigh, she leaned her chin on her hand. Could you make me a strawberry daiquiri?

Sure. He winked at her. My brother is the true mixing god around here, but I’ll do my best, darlin’.

Oh, what a charmer this one was. His face had a gentleness that she already liked. A bit weathered she supposed from the sun, but still it had a freshness she found endearing. He had a look of toughness and she read him as a man’s man but there was a shyness in his eyes that drew her in. She guessed him to be near to her age of thirty-seven.

Candy swung around on the stool and nestled her knees under the bar, eager to admire this man work. His back was to her for a moment, and she raked her gaze over him from head to toe, admiring his ass cupped nicely into dark blue jeans. Probably a few inches taller than her five-six, he was a man who seemed to take good care of himself. His biceps flexed as he mixed her drink.

He glanced at her. You’re new around here. Liquid sloshed as he shook up her drink in a tall hand mixer.

She eased back against her seat and nodded. Brand spanking new. She smirked when he chuckled. Just got in a few minutes ago, actually. This is my first stop.

He poured her drink into a fresh glass, tucked in a long straw, added a tiny dollop of whipped cream on top and set the cocktail on a napkin in front of her. Needed a drink that badly, did you?

Yes and no. I’m meeting someone here, actually.

Brown Eyes leaned on the bar, arms crossed. Well, welcome to St. Albert, then. We’re not the most exciting place in the world but we’re one of the safest. And fun once in a while.

She took a sip of her drink. Closing her eyes, she basked in the sweet and smooth taste of strawberries and rum. The sugar rushed to her head, warming her all over. I’ve never had it with whipped cream before.

He stared at her and let out a loud laugh. Oh, darlin’, everything is better with cream.

She joined in his laughter. Other patrons turned to stare at them as they grew louder. While she should be stunned a little by his innuendo, it wasn’t often men could go toe-to-toe with her so quickly. She enjoyed the moment.

Drew, what’s going on? Why so loud? someone said behind Brown Eyes.

Candy peered past the bartender to see who’d spoken. Her heart skipped a beat and heat curled around her stomach. She needed to take a stroll through this town to find all the hot men it seemed to grow.

Another long and lean handsome devil stood behind the first hottie. His auburn hair fascinated her. That color on a man was unique. And many didn’t carry off the rugged and sexy look of it like this man. Especially with the light dusting of whiter strands over his ears. His stance, the hard lines of his face, spoke of a man of experience and no-nonsense. His dark blue polo shirt spread over his chest mighty fine and tightened around his muscular biceps. Her mouth watered and her fingers twitched, wanting to learn the ridges and valleys beneath.

It’s a bar, bro. Loud usually means people are having a good time.

That’s fine but there are customers waiting on their drinks. He waved his hand toward the patrons seated at the bar. His gaze cut to the front door as people poured in. And looks like we’re about to get busy. The ball game is over.

Her first hottie, Brown Eyes, turned back toward her. Name’s Andrew. I’ll catch you later. He winked, then sauntered to the opposite end of the bar a dozen feet away.

Can I freshen that drink?

She met his gaze with hers. Almost like a fine pine wood, his hazel eyes captured her. Deep recesses of darkness surrounded by a glow that lightened his whole face. His face was intense. Long lines of hard living and tanned ruggedness told of a man who didn’t mind the outdoors. The features of someone’s face always said a lot. Candy loved reading people, discovering some of their lives told by wrinkles, worn skin or laugh lines.

And this man rarely laughed. The minimal amount of laugh lines was a good indication to her that he didn’t spend a great deal of time having fun. No, she’d bet this man was all business most of the time.

Ma’am?

His husky tone pulled her from her thoughts.

She let out a light laugh. Sorry. Daydreaming. Yes, please. And… Gulping back the last drops of her drink, she then slid the glass across to him. Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old.

He shrugged and nodded when the man a couple seats over tipped his empty glass forward. Grabbing another glass, Hazel Eyes pulled on the tap and filled it with beer. Candy shuddered. She hated beer. The saying beer tastes like horse piss ran through her mind, making her chuckle. She’d never tasted horse piss, but she supposed it was as good of a description as any. Who’d ever had the guts to try the animal urine must have been out of their mind.

You’re a woman. It’s polite to use ma’am if I don’t know your name, the bartender commented and set the beer in front of his customer. Grabbing her glass, he rinsed it and set it in front of him.

Did my brother make it straight up or dirty?

Pardon me? The word dirty coming from his lips was like a jalapeno pepper in her mouth—hot, powerful, and rich.

Your daiquiri. Drew and I don’t always make drinks the same. Wondered how he made yours. I tend to make them dirtier than he does.

Ice water was what she needed, not another aggressive alcoholic beverage. There was no way in hell she could resist.

His tasted straight up, I guess. Why don’t you make mine as dirty as you’d like? His brow arched, and she grinned. Delectable lips twitched, and he started mixing.

Are there some secret ingredients in there I should know about?

His tanned hands moved fast, lifting this bottle and that, adding a couple of green leaves and shaking some red powder into a blender. Strawberries were added last.

Impressive. She’d never witnessed a place that used fresh ingredients like this.

I never share my secrets. He winked.

Spectacular. He was even better looking playful and enjoying his work.

How long have you been working here? You seem pretty great at your job. To her own ears it sounded like an asinine compliment, but she was trying to make conversation—anything to spend more time with him.

About thirty-some years. Been working here since my stepdad owned it. Okay, here you go. I’ll warn you though, darlin’, it’s pretty potent. After emptying the contents of the blender into her glass, he set it in front of her and leaned against the bar on his elbows. "Spicy. Might make the hair on your arms stand up.