Getting Rowdy. Lori Foster

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Getting Rowdy - Lori Foster Mills & Boon M&B

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His brows lifted. “And she’s pretty noticeable.”

      Rowdy couldn’t help but be curious. “How long has she lived here?”

      “About a year or so. Something like that.”

      “She’s always on the lookout, too,” another offered.

      “Yeah. She is,” said the smallest of the three, which didn’t really make him small. “She’s real cautious.”

      Rowdy would call that smart, given the area. “Have you actually seen anyone bother her?”

      “Nah, but if you want, we can keep an eye out.”

      Cannon grinned. “She keeps that li’l bottle of pepper spray in her hand and she mean mugs anyone who looks her way.”

      “You?”

      Cannon lifted both hands. “Not me. We already settled that, right? But I’ve seen other dudes looking her over.”

      Rowdy scowled. It took him less than three seconds to make up his mind. Pulling out his wallet, he took out three twenties, one for each of them, with an equal number of business cards for the bar. His cell was listed below the bar number.

      Holding out the bills and cards, he said, “Think of this as a down payment. You ever see anyone bothering her, call either of the numbers. Ask for Rowdy. I’ll pay you for the trouble.”

      The temperature dropped about ten degrees in Cannon’s expression. “Keep your money.” He took all three cards. “I don’t need to be paid not to be an asshole.”

      Slowly, Rowdy withdrew the offered bills. “All right.” He’d rather bust his knuckles on a hardheaded bully than insult an honest man’s pride. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

      “Forget it.” He studied the card. “You’re Rowdy? As in the owner of the bar?”

      “You know it?”

      “I know you kicked a bunch of dope dealers to the curb when you took over.” He met his gaze. “Appreciate that.”

      “It was my pleasure.” Rowdy got the feeling that Cannon took the cleanup of the bar as a personal favor. For a young guy, he had his nose in a lot of business. Interesting. “If you’re ever in the area, stop in for a drink on the house.”

      “I just might take you up on that.” He shoved one card into his back pocket and went to his friends to hand out the other two. “See you around, Rowdy.”

      Watching the three of them cut across the lot and disappear into an alley, Rowdy decided he’d do a little research on Cannon, as well as the car that had tailed him.

      Funny that making a smidge of headway with Avery had unearthed more questions than answers.

      Walking off, Rowdy wondered if Avery had locked him out or if he’d be able to tell her good-night. She surprised him by opening the door again before he reached it.

      Brows pinched, she greeted him with, “Are you insane?”

      Could be. She had that effect on him. “Calm down, honey. Everything’s fine.”

      “Fine? You could have been killed!”

      He snorted, which only seemed to infuriate her more. “Those guys could barely stay on their feet.” He stepped in and secured the door behind him, noting again what a crappy lock it was.

      “What if one of them had been armed?”

      Apparently a shrug wasn’t the right answer.

      “Ohmigod,” she said dramatically. “You are insane. And that second group was not inebriated.”

      “They weren’t hostile, either.”

      “Something you didn’t know until after you’d faced off with them.” She thrust up her chin. “What did you and the hottie talk about for so long?”

      Oh, hell, no. Slowly, Rowdy gave up his inspection of the lock to face her.

      Bristling head to toe, he stiffened his shoulders and stared down at her with intimidating heat. “Hottie?” he whispered.

      The glare was wasted on her. “You know who I mean. The good-looking kid? The one built like an athlete.”

      Jealousy sucked, adding pure gravel to his tone. “He’s only a few years younger than you, so hardly a kid.”

      Her turn to shrug, and damn it, he didn’t like it much more than she had. But when she patted his chest—presumably to reassure him—Rowdy felt compelled to let it go.

      “I gave him a card and told him to come by the bar sometime.” Before he made an even bigger ass of himself, Rowdy put an arm around her and steered her away from the front door. “If he does show up, let me know immediately.” Rowdy didn’t have reason to distrust Cannon, but he didn’t take chances unnecessarily.

      And with the way Avery had described the guy, he was even less inclined to risk leaving her alone with him.

      “Okay.”

      “By the way.” He kissed her temple. “Thanks for staying inside.”

      “I’m not an idiot.” She lifted her hand with the cell phone in it. “But I almost called the police.”

      Definitely not what he needed. “Don’t ever do that.”

      Stubbornness sharpened her expression and launched her to her tiptoes. “I will if I think it’s necessary!”

      Damn it. Again Rowdy tried to stare her down, but it didn’t even come close to working. On a tight exhalation, he took her phone from her, saying, “If you ever need the cops, call 9-1-1. But if it’s for me, just call Logan or Reese.” He pressed several buttons. “Their numbers are now saved in your contacts.” He dropped her phone back in her purse.

      “Really?”

      “Sure. Why not?”

      For some reason Rowdy couldn’t understand, Avery smiled in pleasure. “Thank you.”

      That smile of hers could work magic. Forcing himself to look away, Rowdy took in the main floor of the building. He now understood the reason she came in the back door instead of the better-lit front. The house had literally been divided in two with a wall erected in the middle to separate the halves.

      A door to his right led to the first apartment, with stairs leading up the second. He assumed the layout would be the same in the front. “Do you know your neighbors?” Please let her say no.

      She shook her head. “I keep to myself.”

      Just as Cannon had claimed. “Glad to hear it.” Even here in the foyer, the building looked run-down with chipped, dirty paint and carpet so gross he hated to walk on it even in his shoes. Praying it’d be the latter, Rowdy asked, “First floor or second?”

      “I’m up.”

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