Getting Rowdy

Rowdy had a feeling that Cannon hadn’t done either. “Will I find anything in a background check?”

“Clean as a whistle.”

Relaxing a hip on his desk, Rowdy asked, “Now, why does that surprise me?”

“Maybe because I live in the slums, I understand the way thugs think and you don’t intimidate me.” He gave a slight smile. “And by the way, it’s because I understand how thugs think that you don’t intimidate me.”

“I’m a thug?”

“Nope. And see, I can tell the difference even if you’d rather no one could.”

“Here’s a tip—save the psychobabble if you want to stay on here.” Rowdy handed him the paperwork. “I can pay you cash for last night, but fill out the forms and get them back to me before you start today.”

Cannon looked them over. “Got a pen?”

Twenty minutes later, after showing Cannon around and giving him a rundown on what to expect—though Cannon had a handle on it already—Rowdy located Avery at the bar.

For such a small woman who’d been up all night, she had an abundance of energy, as if all her hundred and ten pounds packed unleashed power. She never complained about the workload, but now that he’d hired Cannon, she’d have help with that.

And he’d be able to get her alone more often.

They had half an hour before they opened, so he went to her, took her hand and dragged her off to his office.

“Rowdy! I have to finish setting up.”

“You’re finished.”

Only partially under her breath, and with only a little annoyance, she said, “You’re causing a scene.”

“If you mean Ella smiling like a sap and Jones elbowing her, so what? They already know I have a thing for you.” A big thing. A thing that was so damned unfamiliar he didn’t quite know how to deal with it.

“A sexual thing,” Avery said. “Yes, I’m sure everyone has picked up on it.”

“A lust thing, since we haven’t yet had sex.” He got her into the office and shut the door behind her. “But I’m counting down the minutes now that you’ve promised we will.”

She surprised him again by leaning into him, her nose against his neck. “You smell like the outdoors. All crisp and fresh and sexy.”

Damn, he hadn’t expected that reaction from her. Had she missed him as much as he’d missed her? And since when did he miss women anyway?

To block the disquieting thoughts, Rowdy caught a handful of her hair and directed her face up to his so he could take her mouth in a grinding, hungry kiss. He wanted to draw her into him, use her to ease the edgy angst that had begun creeping up on him as soon as he left Alice’s apartment—as he’d walked away from Marcus.

The signs were all there; it was going to be one of those nights, a night when he needed the release of sex to bury the ugliness.

But Avery still wanted him to wait. Shit. He lifted his mouth from hers and instead hugged her tight.

Picking up on his mood, she asked, “How is your back?”

“Forget my back.” If she forgot about it, maybe he could convince her to—

“Can I see?”

“Nothing to see.” He set her away from him, separating himself from her and that damned mothering instinct that was both jarring and annoyingly nice. “I picked up the pain pills after I finished my visit with Marcus. If I need one tonight, I’ll take it.” But he’d rather have Avery near again. She was more of a drug than a pill ever could be.

Avery touched her mouth, now swollen from his kiss. “How’d it go with Marcus?”

He watched the movement of her fingers over her lips and should have felt regret, but instead he wanted to taste her again, deeper this time, longer and hotter and... “He’s fine.”

“How can that be?” she asked too gently. “His world has been turned upside down.”

“His world was never right in the first place, not with his parents, not with...” He trailed off, almost hating himself over the telling outburst. Through his teeth, he said, “Forget I said that.”

“I’d rather you talk to me.”

He gave her a sharp look. Kissing her again seemed like a better idea than unloading his emotional crap. “I’d rather change the subject.”

“But this is important—”

No, it was depressing and infuriating. “I told you, it’s fine.”

She made a huffing sound. “Just tell me to butt out if that’s what you want!” Bristling with attitude, she stalked toward him. “But don’t give me that ‘fine’ business when we both know it’s a lie.”

Rowdy pulled back. “What’s got you fired up?”

“Your back is not fine. Marcus is not fine.” Grabbing a handful of his shirt, she went on tiptoes and still only reached his shoulder. “This whole dicked-up situation is not fine.”

“Okay.” Damn, he’d never seen her blow like that before. “Take it easy.”

“Know this, Rowdy Yates. Talking to me, sharing with me, won’t make me misunderstand.”

Every time she got pissed at him, she used his whole name. Made him feel like a kid being scolded. “Misunderstand what? You’re not making any sense.”

The hand she had fisted in his shirt thumped his chest once. “You. I won’t misunderstand you or what you want. I won’t misunderstand your interest, or...or take simple conversation as a proposal of marriage.”