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 cle**age 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 cle**age.
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 amused by women and their antics. It’d be nice if Avery were so predictable.
Then again, it was her uniqueness that he lo—
Whoa. No f**king way. He stomped that thought right out of his head real fast.
He tried focusing on the bar instead, on the many tasks that still needed to be done. But on his way to the kitchen with some dirty dishes, he again sought out Avery. She bustled along the busy bar, filling drink orders and smiling at customers—all of them men.
In many ways he felt like a possessive ape around her, but this he took in stride. He knew Avery well enough to know she wouldn’t flirt with a customer, and beyond that, she wasn’t interested in hard drinkers.
He was just about to push into the kitchen when the phone rang. Avery answered it. No big deal. With the only phones behind the bar and in his office, she took the calls more often than not.
He went on through the kitchen doors and deposited the dirty dishes into the sink. Even with the dinner hour long over, Jones still hadn’t finished up. Rowdy knew he had to find him some help soon or Jones would quit on him.
“Leave those if you want,” Rowdy told the cook.
“You paying me for the time I’m here?”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yeah, and it’ll only take me another hour, so I’ll stay.” He pointed a scrub brush at Rowdy. “But stop being so choosy and hire someone already, will you?”
“Working on it.” Hell, he’d interviewed a dozen people. “It’s not as easy as you’d think.” Especially with the bar’s reputation. He’d had a few druggies show up, a hooker, a drunk and a barely of-age kid who’d quailed at the idea of putting in eight hours.
Suddenly Ella stuck her head into the kitchen. “Rowdy?” Her usual smile was missing, her tone no-nonsense. “Avery’s in trouble.”
Instead of asking questions, Rowdy dropped the dish towel and strode through the doors and into the main room. He sensed Jones and Ella right on his heels.
His gaze locked on Avery. She looked more annoyed than hurt or afraid, but a big bruiser had her half pulled over the bar thanks to a grip on her wrist. Rowdy barely remembered moving before he had the heavy man by the front of his shirt. “Let. Her. Go.”
The guy released Avery with a shove and she stumbled back, fetching up against the ice chest.
Rowdy saw red. Back in the good old days, before he was a f**king proprietor, he’d have taken the guy apart and been done with it. Now...well, now he had boundaries, so he’d try it the “nice” way—and hope the guy gave him a reason to demolish him. “Get out and don’t come back.”