Getting Rowdy

“As good as it can be here, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to your landlord about changing the lock on the entry door.”

“I already did.” She felt a little out of control. Surely she wasn’t one of those women turned on by a macho display of violence? Not that there’d been much violence, not with the expedient way Rowdy had handled the bullies. “He told me to go for it.”

From across the room, Rowdy looked at her mouth, then her throat and finally her br**sts. In a distracted way, he said, “I’ll take care of it before work.”

Her breath caught when she inhaled. “You don’t have to do that.”

Holding up his hands to prove that he’d keep his promise, he stalked toward her. “I want to do it.”

Oh, the way he said that. Her mind conjured all kinds of things other than replacing an old lock. “Okay, then.”

Casually, he leaned a shoulder on the door frame next to where she stood. “So.”

She started to thank him again, but he cut her off.

“You didn’t like seeing me with another woman.”

She stepped away from the open door—and away from temptation. “Seriously, Rowdy, I see that every night.” Lying through her teeth, she said, “Not a biggie.”

He thought about that, nodded. “You didn’t like seeing a woman with her mouth on my—”

“No!” Jerking back around, Avery broke her own rule. She stretched up to smash two fingertips against his mouth. “Don’t you dare say it.”

Slowly, Rowdy wrapped his much-larger fingers around her wrist and lowered her hand to his chest.

And, oh, God, that wasn’t much better than touching his mouth. He felt so hot.

His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “I can promise you that it won’t happen again.”

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.