Getting Rowdy. Lori Foster

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Getting Rowdy - Lori Foster

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sort through things, figure out her reasons for waiting and find a way around them. But until then, he didn’t want to scare her off. “Let’s agree that there’s no reason for you to splurge on a cab. I made you miss the bus, so I’ll see you home.”

      She studied the moon shadows lurking between buildings, frowned at a few dark cars parked near the curb. A stranger walked up the street, head down, hands in his pockets.

      On a deep breath, Avery checked her watch—and bit her lip.

      Taking that as another sign of agreement, Rowdy rose to his feet again. “It’s late. No way will I leave you out here alone, so run up to my apartment with me, okay? I’ll grab my car keys.” He took one step off the curb, ready to cross the street—and realized that Avery hadn’t moved. He turned back to her. “Coming?”

      Clutching her purse, she stared at him with confusion. “I don’t understand.”

      With anticipation surging, he turned to face her. “About?”

      “So many things...” She looked up and down the street again, at a few people loitering on the corner, back at the bar. After palpable hesitation, she rose from the bench and approached him.

      “Like?” He watched her eyes and saw her sort through a dozen issues before settling on one.

      “Where exactly is your apartment?”

      “Right here.” Rowdy indicated the big brick building on the opposite side of the street from the bar. “I just moved in a week ago.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      IT HAD BEEN a very long day, but Avery wasn’t tired. Not anymore. While watching the bus leave her behind, she’d experienced an odd disquiet.

      Not because of Rowdy. Even when he tried to be intimidating, his presence provided only reassurance. He wouldn’t hurt her, and he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her.

      But someone had been nearby, watching her, waiting. She shivered in dread. She wanted to blame it on bad memories, on dread from that earlier phone call, but she knew better. She’d learned to trust her instincts.

      And her instincts told her the night wasn’t safe.

      Now, trailing behind Rowdy, her hand held in his, she worried that she might be leading trouble to his door. He could handle it, of that she had no doubt.

      But her problems were her own, and she didn’t want them dumped on him.

      Looking back again, she still saw nothing.

      “Worried someone will see you with me?” He shifted his hand to the small of her back and urged her inside.

      She was, but not for the reasons he thought. “I heard something,” she lied. She’d heard only her own turbulent thoughts.

      Taking her seriously, he glanced back, his gaze searching everywhere. A few doors down, a couple got into a car and pulled away. Across the street, three men laughed drunkenly as they made their way down the sidewalk. In the distance, a siren whined and a dog barked.

      Seeming distracted, he murmured, “The night echoes everything and makes it sound closer than it is.” After another scrutiny of the area, he turned back to her. “You don’t need to be nervous with me.”

      “If you say so.”

      The building they entered used to be a warehouse, but had since been divided into four rental units. It had a certain industrial appeal, with concrete interior walls, metal stairs and open ceilings. Overall, it suited Rowdy, being strong and sturdy like him, but also polished in a nice way.

      “I’m on the second floor.”

      Avery looked up to a huge skylight in the very high ceiling. “Wow.” Holding on to the welded handrails, she went ahead of Rowdy up the open, diamond-plate stair treads. Everywhere she looked, she saw something cool, like the exposed ductwork and pipes.

      “This way.” Rowdy took her to a thick steel door, opened several locks, pushed the heavy door open and flipped on overhead fluorescent lights.

      They stepped into a small landing above the rest of the living area. Following Rowdy down four clattering metal steps brought her to a sparse sitting area that held a worn couch and chair, one table and lamp, and a moderately sized flat screen television on an entertainment stand.

      Only the television looked new.

      Beyond that, at the far side of the room, freestanding L-shaped bookshelves formed a wall to separate the kitchen and laundry area on the left from the bed, dresser and nightstand on the right. Avery assumed the one and only closed door led to a bathroom.

      She took in the wall of tall arched windows that would overlook his bar, then to the polished wood-plank floors.

      “It was close,” Rowdy said, as if defending his choice.

      “It’s pretty impressive actually.” Especially compared to where she now lived. She touched a thick round metal support beam in the middle of the floor. “Doing a little pole dancing of your own?”

      He crossed his arms. “No, but if you feel like giving it a try, go ahead. I’ll wait.”

      She fought off a grin. “No thanks.”

      “Spoilsport.” He headed off to the kitchen area.

      Still taking in the uniqueness of his apartment, Avery said, “Know what I don’t understand?”

      “I can guess.” His boots made little noise on the thick floors. “You’re wondering why I didn’t just hook up here, instead of in my office.”

      It did make her very curious. “Wouldn’t it have been a lot more...convenient?” He had a bed at his disposal instead of a desk chair. Not that he’d let it hinder him, from what she’d seen.

      “Probably,” he agreed. “But I didn’t want her in my place.” He flipped a switch and more light spilled from the kitchen.

      Avery realized that not only could he see his bar, but now, with the bright lights on inside, anyone on the street would be able to see him, too. She made sure to stay out of view. “Why not?”

      From the counter, he lifted a set of keys. “I’m private, that’s why.”

      Unbelievable. “You could have been a lot more private here than in your office!” While Avery found his living space pretty awesome, it was bare-bones, not a single personal item on display. No photos, not even of his sister. That disappointed her. She’d never met Pepper, and she was very curious.

      He did have a nice display of books on his bookshelves.

      “I told you, I wasn’t expecting anyone to show up.” He returned to her, the keys jangling in his hand. “This is the first permanent place I’ve had. Before this, it was rotating motel rooms. If I took a woman there, no big deal because by the next day I’d be gone.”

      So no woman would be able to track him down? That attitude concerned her, but wondering where

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