That’s all it was, all it could be. Once Avery gave in to the chemistry, he’d get her naked, over him or under him so he could sate himself until he got her out of his system.
And then he’d move on, as he always did.
As often as he came by hoping to see her, she had to be avoiding him. That last time, along with the kisses, he’d managed to wrangle her name from her.
While withholding his own.
Necessary then, but now...now Rowdy Yates was in the clear. He could offer a proper introduction.
If only she stopped dodging him.
While thinking of Avery, his gaze snagged on a petite blonde wearing a barely there mini dress. Great legs. Tiny waist. Come-and-get-me smile. He should take her up on it...except that he wasn’t all that interested. Damn.
He transferred his attention to a tall, willowy brunette. She stared at him with blatant invitation. Fake boobs, but what did he care?
No. Still nothing.
He finished off his beer, sulking when he never sulked and wondering if he should just take a woman—any woman—to prove to himself...what?
On this particular night he didn’t need the company. Sure, he had a lot on his mind, but it wasn’t the disturbing stuff that sometimes plagued him in his dreams. It wasn’t the hell of a past reality, dark and gritty and sharp, clawed with disturbing images of what he’d—
“You know, if I was g*y, we’d get along just fine and dandy.”
CHAPTER NINE
STARTLED, PULLED from thoughts of his flawed psyche, Rowdy turned his head, and there stood none other than Avery Mullins. A headband held her incredible dark red hair off her face. Given the kiss of sun on her nose and cheeks, she’d spent a few hours outdoors earlier in the day.
At a few inches over five feet, probably weighing no more than a buck-ten, she presented an enticing little package—a package that had his muscles twitching to attention.
Though her opening salvo held plenty of attitude, her blue-eyed gaze avoided his as she finished tying a clean, crisp apron around her waist. Had she come directly to him at the start of her shift?
It appeared so.
Rife with satisfaction and anticipation, Rowdy relaxed back in his seat. “Knowing you’re not g*y is a relief.”
“Shouldn’t be. It’s nothing to you.”
Extra snippy tonight. He felt challenged. Hell, he felt alive. “I’m curious what you meant about us getting along.”
“The women you eyeball.” She finished with the apron and, with nothing else to do, picked up his empty beer glass. “Very bad taste, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
He didn’t mind her saying anything as long as she stuck close. “’S that right?”
“If I courted women, we’d never be competing, that’s for sure.”
Using his foot, Rowdy pushed back the chair opposite him. “Take a seat and tell me about it.”
“Can’t.” She tipped her head at the crowded floor. “I got called in on my day off because someone called in sick. With only one full-time waitress and two part-time, this place is always short staffed. So, as of five minutes ago, I’m on the clock.”
“And I’m a customer.” So this was her day off? And she only worked here part-time. Interesting.
“Yes, you are.” She lifted the glass. “That’s why I was going to get you another beer.”
“Not just yet.” Maybe not at all. He needed to stay sharp if he hoped to do some snooping into Alice’s past.
“No?” She looked skeptical. “Since you usually drink two, I just assumed...”
“You know my habits?” Had she been around on his visits, and he hadn’t known it? Before he left tonight, he’d find out her schedule. “In that case, I should introduce myself, right?”
“You’re no longer incognito?”
He no longer had dire threats hanging over his head—but no reason to dump his sordid past on her. “Rowdy Yates.”
“Like the old Clint Eastwood character?”
“Guess my folks were comedians, huh?” Or too drunk to make logical decisions. Whatever.
“More likely you’re making it up.”
Rowdy shook his head. “We’ll eventually get together.” And top of his list was giving her a screaming, unforgettable orgasm. “When we do, I damn well want you saying the right name.”
“I...” As if she’d read his thoughts, she swallowed whatever she’d started to say and referred back to his offer to sit. “I should be working.”
He let his gaze dip over her for one tantalizing peek. “You can take a minute, right?” He loved the way this particular woman dressed down in jeans and Ts. “I’ll make it up to you with a big tip.”
She waffled. “I am on a tight budget.”
“So, do us both a favor. Take the tip—and tell me how it is we wouldn’t be competing for the fairer sex.”
Challenged, she said, “Sure, why not?” She dropped into the chair and propped her elbows on the table. “That blonde?” Using the beer glass, she pointed in the general direction of the crowded floor. “Horrible breath. She’s a chain smoker. Probably been outside twice already to puff away. By this time of night she’s so stale you pick it up from six feet away.”
He wouldn’t kick her out of bed for being a smoker, but he wasn’t keen on it either. “And the brunette?”
“Very unpleasant...” She stopped, flattened her mouth and gave up with a shake of her head. “Actually, she’s a big-time bitch.”
And then he’d move on, as he always did.
As often as he came by hoping to see her, she had to be avoiding him. That last time, along with the kisses, he’d managed to wrangle her name from her.
While withholding his own.
Necessary then, but now...now Rowdy Yates was in the clear. He could offer a proper introduction.
If only she stopped dodging him.
While thinking of Avery, his gaze snagged on a petite blonde wearing a barely there mini dress. Great legs. Tiny waist. Come-and-get-me smile. He should take her up on it...except that he wasn’t all that interested. Damn.
He transferred his attention to a tall, willowy brunette. She stared at him with blatant invitation. Fake boobs, but what did he care?
No. Still nothing.
He finished off his beer, sulking when he never sulked and wondering if he should just take a woman—any woman—to prove to himself...what?
On this particular night he didn’t need the company. Sure, he had a lot on his mind, but it wasn’t the disturbing stuff that sometimes plagued him in his dreams. It wasn’t the hell of a past reality, dark and gritty and sharp, clawed with disturbing images of what he’d—
“You know, if I was g*y, we’d get along just fine and dandy.”
CHAPTER NINE
STARTLED, PULLED from thoughts of his flawed psyche, Rowdy turned his head, and there stood none other than Avery Mullins. A headband held her incredible dark red hair off her face. Given the kiss of sun on her nose and cheeks, she’d spent a few hours outdoors earlier in the day.
At a few inches over five feet, probably weighing no more than a buck-ten, she presented an enticing little package—a package that had his muscles twitching to attention.
Though her opening salvo held plenty of attitude, her blue-eyed gaze avoided his as she finished tying a clean, crisp apron around her waist. Had she come directly to him at the start of her shift?
It appeared so.
Rife with satisfaction and anticipation, Rowdy relaxed back in his seat. “Knowing you’re not g*y is a relief.”
“Shouldn’t be. It’s nothing to you.”
Extra snippy tonight. He felt challenged. Hell, he felt alive. “I’m curious what you meant about us getting along.”
“The women you eyeball.” She finished with the apron and, with nothing else to do, picked up his empty beer glass. “Very bad taste, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
He didn’t mind her saying anything as long as she stuck close. “’S that right?”
“If I courted women, we’d never be competing, that’s for sure.”
Using his foot, Rowdy pushed back the chair opposite him. “Take a seat and tell me about it.”
“Can’t.” She tipped her head at the crowded floor. “I got called in on my day off because someone called in sick. With only one full-time waitress and two part-time, this place is always short staffed. So, as of five minutes ago, I’m on the clock.”
“And I’m a customer.” So this was her day off? And she only worked here part-time. Interesting.
“Yes, you are.” She lifted the glass. “That’s why I was going to get you another beer.”
“Not just yet.” Maybe not at all. He needed to stay sharp if he hoped to do some snooping into Alice’s past.
“No?” She looked skeptical. “Since you usually drink two, I just assumed...”
“You know my habits?” Had she been around on his visits, and he hadn’t known it? Before he left tonight, he’d find out her schedule. “In that case, I should introduce myself, right?”
“You’re no longer incognito?”
He no longer had dire threats hanging over his head—but no reason to dump his sordid past on her. “Rowdy Yates.”
“Like the old Clint Eastwood character?”
“Guess my folks were comedians, huh?” Or too drunk to make logical decisions. Whatever.
“More likely you’re making it up.”
Rowdy shook his head. “We’ll eventually get together.” And top of his list was giving her a screaming, unforgettable orgasm. “When we do, I damn well want you saying the right name.”
“I...” As if she’d read his thoughts, she swallowed whatever she’d started to say and referred back to his offer to sit. “I should be working.”
He let his gaze dip over her for one tantalizing peek. “You can take a minute, right?” He loved the way this particular woman dressed down in jeans and Ts. “I’ll make it up to you with a big tip.”
She waffled. “I am on a tight budget.”
“So, do us both a favor. Take the tip—and tell me how it is we wouldn’t be competing for the fairer sex.”
Challenged, she said, “Sure, why not?” She dropped into the chair and propped her elbows on the table. “That blonde?” Using the beer glass, she pointed in the general direction of the crowded floor. “Horrible breath. She’s a chain smoker. Probably been outside twice already to puff away. By this time of night she’s so stale you pick it up from six feet away.”
He wouldn’t kick her out of bed for being a smoker, but he wasn’t keen on it either. “And the brunette?”
“Very unpleasant...” She stopped, flattened her mouth and gave up with a shake of her head. “Actually, she’s a big-time bitch.”
