He knew Fisher’s type. Men like that didn’t want to lose—ever. And Fish himself had spelled out his continued interest. “You figure it’s him dicking around on the phone?”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense.” She pulled the crust off the last piece of her sandwich. “In one of the calls, I think he fired a gun.”

Rowdy lost his teasing mood. “A gun?”

“That’s what it sounded like. At first there was no one, then the gunshot.” She fidgeted. “After that...a man laughed. I can’t say that it necessarily sounded like Fisher, but it was muffled and I was shaken.”

Hell, if she’d told him that earlier, he’d have annihilated Fisher on the spot, piece of cake with a cherry on top. When he’d met Fisher at her homecoming, he’d wanted to stomp the bastard anyway.

Now he had good reason.

“He was the one following us that night.” Rowdy finished off his milk, giving her time to take that in.

Eyes rounding, Avery stared at him. “But...you’re saying he already knew where I was?”

“Guess so. I recognized the car and license plate when we got to Meyer’s.”

“That’s why you asked about it.”

He shrugged. “Fisher didn’t deny it. He said he was making sure you were safe.”

“He’s the reason I’m not safe!”

Pushing the last of his food aside, Rowdy leaned his forearms on the table and gave her his no-nonsense stare. “I need to hear all of it, babe. No more secrets and no more holding back. What exactly happened between you two?”

She withdrew, emotionally and physically.

Done playing, Rowdy left his seat, scooped her up and headed for the bed.

“Rowdy!”

He did like holding her. “Hmm?” No way should he have been horny again, but she pushed all his buttons, even when disgruntled. He needed to take it easy or she’d leave him just to rest.

“You cannot keep toting me around like a—”

He dropped her onto the bed, then crawled in beside her and situated them both so that they reclined, he on his back, she tucked into his side.

Avery fussed at him, shoving and swatting to free herself, but not really giving it her all.

“This would be more fun,” he said, tugging at the T-shirt, “if you were naked again.”

She gave up.

He kissed her forehead. “Comfortable?”

Sighing, she snuggled closer and nodded. “Yeah.” Her hand on his bare chest, she asked, “It’s okay on your back?”

It was his dick he was worried about. If the damn thing didn’t stay down, how could they finish talking? “All good. Now, about Fisher?”

She tucked her face against him. “Mom and Meyer wanted me to marry him. They were pushing big-time, but I never felt that way about Fisher.”

“You two dated?”

“A few times. Mostly company events. That sort of thing.”

“Ever sleep with him?”

She shuddered. “No.”

Satisfaction rushed through him. “So what did you do with him?”

“A few kisses only, and that was more than enough.”

“No need for details.” The last thing he wanted to hear about was Fisher touching her in any way sexual, even a simple kiss.

“There isn’t anything intimate worth telling anyway. I didn’t like him. He’s not the sterling example Meyer and Mom see him as, or the caring philanthropist everyone else thinks him to be. He does what’s expected of him to keep his good name, to get a write-off, or to build a connection to another company, not because he actually cares. To me he was condescending and bossy and critical.”

“Critical how?”

“No matter what I wore or what I said, he didn’t think it was good enough.”

What an ass. Rowdy teased his fingertips down her arm, her waist, her hip. “I like you best when you’re wearing nothing, but you look awful cute in your jeans, too.”

He felt her smile, then a kiss to his ribs. “Thank you.”

“And your hair...” He stroked his fingers through it. “Gotta say, it’s a turn-on.”

“Fisher tried to insist I get it cut and styled. He even set up an appointment with his salon.”

“Fisher has a salon?”

“A very expensive and exclusive place where he goes to get his hair cut. He had me scheduled for the works because he said I looked like a wild child.”

Rowdy had to lift up and stare at her. “You’re shitting me?”

She blinked up at him. “Uh...no.”

“God, he’s an idiot.” He rested back again. “You’re always classy. Nothing wild about you.” He gave her a brief hug. “Except maybe in bed, and Fisher knows nothing about that.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“So you told him to hit the road, and what happened?”

“Well, I tried to be a little kinder than that. I told him that we didn’t suit, so I didn’t want to take up more of his valuable time and that it’d be better if we just parted ways as friends, and only friends. He pressed me, saying my parents disagreed and that once I got settled down, I’d find my way.”

“Your way to what?”

“To being a good wife to him.” Her hand fisted on his abdomen. “He wouldn’t let it go. For weeks, he kept dogging me everywhere I went, showing up at events and acting like we were a couple.”




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