Getting Rowdy. Lori Foster
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She curled her fingers against him, a little embarrassed that her nails were clipped so short, her hands rough from so many washings during work. The smell of the bar probably clung to her.
Then she remembered that it didn’t matter; she’d never again be that manicured woman from her past. “At work, you mean?”
His mouth tightened. “I won’t lie to you, Avery. I’m not going to become a monk.”
Thank God. That would be such a waste of raw sensuality. Unsure what his point might be, Avery said, “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Good, because now I have a question for you.” He released her, took a step back so that he stood outside the door and asked, “How long do I have to wait, honey?”
Avery’s heart jumped. She could have pretended that she didn’t understand, but she knew exactly what he meant.
Rowdy didn’t rush her, and he didn’t joke. That told her he was serious, so she gave him a real answer.
“I don’t want to be an available convenience. I don’t want to be interchangeable.”
His gaze darkened, grew more intense.
“So...” She screwed up her courage. Not to say it, but to mean it. To commit to it. “I guess you have to wait long enough that I know you want me, specifically, more than you want easy sex.”
He touched her jaw, the side of her throat, and opened his hand on the back of her neck. “I think I can handle that.”
He thought he could? That was the best reassurance he could give? She started to protest, but he put his mouth over hers in a kiss that was deep, soft and consuming. His warm tongue lightly teased, and his hard body stole her breath.
When he ended the kiss, she more or less hung limp in his arms right outside her door. “Damn, woman, you do know how to drag out the suspense.” He kissed her once more, firm and quick—then lifted her over the doorjamb and back into her apartment. “Lock up behind me. I’ll see you tomorrow. And remember, anything at all happens, I want to know, no matter what time it is. You call me.”
She nodded. What in the world did he think would happen? “Thank you for...well, everything.”
He had such a gorgeous smile. “My pleasure, Avery. Always.”
Always...until he got what he wanted, and then he’d probably be done with her.
She closed and locked the door, and then she started grinning. Holy cow. Rowdy Yates had packed a wallop in that kiss.
No matter how long it lasted, Avery knew her world would never be the same.
She supposed she should call the doctor, since it appeared she’d be needing the pill after all.
* * *
FOR THE FIRST time since buying the bar, Rowdy couldn’t concentrate on business. He’d kissed Avery on her doorstep three days ago. The next day when he’d gone back to change out the lock, she’d given him a key and insisted on repaying him what he’d spent at the hardware store. He’d taken that one on the chin because she’d been so insistent about it.
But since then, she’d also been working extra hard, almost as if she wanted to make sure she didn’t get any special favors just because she’d admitted her interest.
Not like he could show favoritism anyway. She was the only bartender—a situation he’d need to remedy if he ever hoped to spend much time with her. When she needed a break, he was the one to give it to her. If she needed a day off, he worked the bar. The bar was closed on Sundays, but he often used that day to work on more renovations to the unused areas. He wouldn’t be satisfied until every inch of the bar was used wisely.
Each night he’d wanted to drive Avery home, but she always refused. So instead he had to stand there and watch her get on a bus.
Avery didn’t know that he followed in his car to make sure she got in without being bothered. On one of those nights he’d spotted Cannon and his buddies hanging around again, but other than watching Avery go into her apartment, Cannon hadn’t approached her.
The hours they kept made it tough for Rowdy to work a seduction. And damn it, with every hour that passed, he wanted her more.
As he cleared a table to help Ella with the remaining customers, a sexy blonde leaned into his view. “Hey, Rowdy.”
Her cleavage just naturally drew his attention. “Hey...” He racked his brain...something with an S, if he recalled right. “Sheila, isn’t it?”
“You remembered!”
More like he’d gotten lucky with guessing. She came into the bar several times a week, and each time she hit on him. He’d planned to take her up on her not-so-subtle offers—until Avery had laid out her stipulations. Now, knowing Avery would eventually be his, Sheila held little interest for him. “Of course I did. You’ve turned into a regular.” He went back to cleaning the table.
“You know,” she said suggestively, “I live close by.” Her hand smoothed up his arm to his shoulder. She leaned in to whisper, “We could get there in under twenty minutes.”
He couldn’t help but grin. It was nice to be wanted, especially with Avery all but avoiding him. And thinking of Avery, he straightened again and glanced her way.
Even from across the room, her fierce glower torched him. She looked like she expected him to haul Sheila off to his office any second. Apparently, his little bartender still didn’t understand just how much he wanted her specifically, not just any willing body.
Rowdy saluted Avery before saying to Sheila, “I appreciate the offer, hon, I really do. But I’m slammed.”
“Tomorrow, then.” She trailed a painted fingernail over her collarbone, and then dipped it into her cleavage.
Which, of course, ensured that his gaze followed.
Nice rack. Big and heavy and pale. She’d be a handful.
He wasn’t tempted even a little. “Can’t. I’m out of commission until...” Until when, damn it? How long would it take for Avery to realize how good they’d be together? Whether she felt the chemistry or not, he knew they’d burn up the sheets.
Deciding it didn’t matter because Sheila wasn’t doing it for him anyway, Rowdy said, “Until further notice. The bar is really growing, and as it is, I’m only squeaking in a few hours of sleep a day.”
“I could make it worth your while.”
“I didn’t have a doubt.” He nodded at a tableful of young men behind them. “They know it, too. They haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”
Sheila wasn’t fooled. She knew a rejection when she heard it, regardless of how he’d tried to pretty it up. “It’s your loss.” With a smile, she went off to easier game.
Rowdy shook his head, always