I make my way quickly to the bar, where a man stands watching me with a frown. He’s attractive, if you like that bad-boy look … tall, built, tattoos, short cut dark hair, neat beard. Yeah, okay he’s not my usual type, but even I have to admit that he’s hot. As a nurse, I can appreciate a well-defined body, and it’s on full display in the stretched to the limit black tee he’s wearing.

Gray-green eyes watch me approach with all the enthusiasm of a homeowner seeing his house burn to the ground. When I get close enough to be able to hear over the guitar-heavy, country music, he leans over the bar toward me. “You lost, sweet pea?”

I inwardly bristle at being called “sweet pea” even though coming from someone as gorgeous as him, it does sound sexy as hell. His voice is home-grown honey and whiskey mixed with a Tennessee twang. I imagine him whispering things in my ear that makes me blush, and I don’t blush easily anymore. I shake my head no and feel more hair disengage from the band holding it back. “I’m looking for Van Hawkes. Do you know him?”

His eyebrows rise up a little before he asks, “What you want Van for, darling?”

I’m too tired for this question and answer session, even from the hot guy. I need a shower, a pint of ice cream, and twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Some steamy, mindless sex wouldn’t hurt either. I could get lost in some of that right now. It’s been a long time, and my body is trying to remind me that I’m not the one dead. If only I had the time.

I always get a little snippy when I’m sleep-deprived, so I shoot back. “That’s my business, Sweetheart. Is he here?” The walking orgasm’s lips twitch, and for a brief moment, I think he may actually smile.

I suddenly feel a heavy arm drop around my shoulders and the stink of sour beer hits my face. “Hey, nurse, how about me and you get out of here and play a little doctor?” The man leans inward toward me, and I struggle not to gag and to get out of his grip. It’s surprisingly strong for someone who has had way too much to drink.

 “Get your damn hands off me!” I demand, shoving at him.

In a flash, the hot bar guy has jumped the bar and is beside me. “Earl, what have I told you about touching the ladies? Get gone. Now!”

Earl lets go of me and staggers backward, holding both hands up in surrender. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know you had a claim on this sexy piece. No harm meant, man.”

Piece? Did he just call me a piece? I step closer to the drunk, intending to give him a quick kick to his flappy balls. “What did you call me?”

The stinky drunk guy laughs. “Van, you always were a lucky son-of-a-bitch when it came to women.” He staggers away before I can drop-kick him to his ass on the nasty wood floor.

I turn on hot guy. “Wait, did he call you Van?”