At least most of the customers had come straight from the annual Cattle Valley Christmas party at the church and weren’t hungry. It was a damn good thing. Although it was already the third time his mom had filled in for Jay in the last week, Moby doubted she’d be up to cooking for the crowd presently packed inside O’Brien’s.He reached the long table of folks from the Back Breaker ranch and set four pitchers of beer at equal distances down the centre of the table. “You need anything else?” he asked Shep.“Thanks. This’ll do for now.”Moby was on his way back to the bar when Guy Hoisington waved him down. Shit. Moby had worked hard not to flirt with his customers, but Guy’s smooth way of talking always managed to suck him in.Guy’s million dollar smile met Moby when he arrived at the table. “Merry Christmas,” Guy said.Moby didn’t know the other four men at the table but from their looks, he assumed they were either fellow skiers or male models. “Merry Christmas.
