Getting Rowdy
Page 76

Slowly she smiled. Being drenched just might work to her advantage. “Wish me luck, okay?”
“I think Rowdy’s the one that needs it, but sure, good luck to you.” He flicked the end of her nose. “Go easy on him.”
With a little more confidence, Avery turned and trotted up the steps. Her heart beat wildly—with worry, with hope, but mostly with anticipation.
Tonight she would have Rowdy Yates. At the moment, nothing else mattered.
* * *
BRISTLING WITH IRRITATION, Rowdy peeled off his damp clothes and changed into dry jeans. He couldn’t look at the bed. When he did, he saw Avery there, that beautiful red hair of hers spread out around her face, the way she smiled and how she teased, her delicate aroma and how comforting it had been to hold her while they slept.
No matter that his mind had decided he wouldn’t touch her, his body still craved sexual satisfaction.
But only with Avery. Right now, no other woman would do.
Hell, he’d had so many offers tonight, one of them from two women looking for a three way, that he could easily have spent the night working off tension the good old-fashioned way.
Instead, he planned to read. Since buying the bar, he’d studied up on small enterprise solutions. He didn’t have much in the way of an education, but he had enough street smarts to know it required knowledge as well as hard work to make a business survive.
And above all else, he was a survivor.
Barefoot, he went into the kitchen and opened a beer, then found the book on the shelf. Whenever he did a lot of reading, he needed glasses. Nothing prescription, just readers he’d bought at the drugstore. Carrying the beer, the book and the reading glasses, he went to his couch and dropped down.
Leaning back didn’t hurt that much, not with the thick bandages in place. They needed to be changed, but he couldn’t do it himself. Tomorrow he’d get Pepper to take the wrappings off, and he’d leave them off.
He took a big drink of the beer, opened his book and...thought of Avery. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t keep her out of his head.
Or his heart.
He’d left her with Cannon.
Demons chased around his brain, making him imagine all sorts of scenarios guaranteed to keep him awake through the long night.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and willed himself not to care.
Impossible.
When the knock sounded on his door, he lifted his head, a scowl already in place. The last thing he wanted to deal with was another pushy woman. The neighbors were nice enough, but they watched for him to come in, and then they found a reason to pester him.
He wasn’t in the mood to be gracious tonight.
Shoving the glasses to the top of his head and setting his book aside, Rowdy left the couch, went up the few short steps and opened the door.
Like a sucker punch to the gut, the sight of Avery standing there, soaked to the skin, shivering, that stubborn chin of hers lifted, sucked his breath away.
“Can I come in?”
His gaze tracked over her, from the long sodden ropes of her hair, to her open jacket and the way her shirt clung to her br**sts, to her dripping jeans. Already a puddle had formed around her.
He braced himself against her impact. “You should have gone home.”
She lifted her chin another inch. “You promised me sex.”
Jesus, he hadn’t expected that, hadn’t thought she’d be this brazen, this bold and...sexy. He breathed a little harder, and felt his dick stir.
Avery stepped in. “I’m here to collect.”
What the hell did she think? That she could manipulate him with sex? Backing up from her, he said, “No.” Then he turned his back and went down the steps, putting some distance between himself and temptation.
Going to his couch, he sat down and, pretending he wasn’t coiled tight and on the verge of asking her to stay, he put his glasses back on and picked up his book.
As the seconds passed, he pretended to read and Avery held silent. He wouldn’t look at her again.
“I’m freezing, Rowdy.”
He heard the chattering of her teeth, and he clenched his muscles to fight the compelling need to comfort her. He glanced at her over the glasses but said nothing.
“My jeans are completely soaked.”
He didn’t mean to, but he said, “Take them off.” Then his heart started jumping, and he breathed deeper, waiting to see what she’d do.
It felt like a lifetime that they stared at each other before Avery turned, closed the door and locked it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WITH A FULL-FLEDGED boner straining his jeans, Rowdy watched her strip off her insubstantial jacket. She needed a coat, damn it. Something warmer, weatherproof... It wasn’t his concern.
Avery hung it over the rail at the landing, then bent to remove her shoes and socks. She placed them beneath the jacket. Barefoot, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, she straightened and turned toward him.
Rowdy couldn’t help it. Lured by an unspoken promise, enthralled by possibilities, he sat forward. When her small, trembling hands went to the waistband of her jeans, he sucked in his breath and held it.
She opened the snap, pulled down the zipper and worked to get the wet denim down her slender legs. She stepped out and straightened, wearing no more than a clinging T-shirt and tiny beige panties.
Rowdy set the glasses aside, but he didn’t leave the couch.
Holding the jeans in front of her, she asked, “Could I use your dryer?”
He wanted to see her walking across the room, wanted to see her ass in that little bit of material she called underwear. He worked his jaw, then muttered, “Help yourself.”