Rowdy couldn’t believe his bad luck at finally seeing her again at such an ill-fated time. Knowing what he wanted to do, and what he had to do, he weighed his options.
“This tray isn’t getting any lighter.”
As spirited as ever. He chewed his upper lip in indecision but didn’t really put up much of a fight. “I was hoping to see you again.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
Cutthroat thugs searched the premises for him, and if they found him, it wouldn’t be polite conversation on their minds. But he grinned all the same. “We have unfinished business, you and I.”
Her pale blue eyes stayed direct. “And here I thought we were quite finished.”
“Not by a long shot. But much as it pains me, now isn’t the time. So—” He took the tray from her hands and plunked it down on the counter.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Seriously. What was he doing? “Going on the assumption you’d as soon not see me murdered.”
“Murdered!”
“Shh.” He looked over his shoulder. The men drew nearer. “I need to find a back way out.”
Her mouth dropped open but almost immediately snapped shut. “Are you in trouble?”
“Pretty much always.”
“I am soooo surprised,” she said with crisp sarcasm.
Their chitchat would have to be cut short. “It isn’t the cops coming after me, honey. And just so you don’t think I’m a wimp, there are five of them. I’ll get in a few hits of my own, but it’s not going to be pretty. I have about thirty seconds left before—”
“Of all the…” Already turning with his hand held in hers, she led him toward the back exit but stopped suddenly and instead pushed him through another door and into a pantry, closing the door behind them.
Reaching up, she pulled a cord and the small room went dark.
Rowdy crowded closer to her back. “Maybe you didn’t understand—”
“Shh.” She reached back, accidentally patted his junk, and jerked her hand away. He heard her audible swallow, then her whispered, “Sorry.”
Near her ear, he breathed, “Quite all right.”
She turned her face a little to explain softly, “Men were at the back door.”
Ah. So the detour was to protect him? Nice.
Almost as nice as her breath on his mouth, her scent wrapping around him, and the innate trust she’d just exhibited.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t enjoy it as much as he’d like because if they found her with him in a pantry, she’d be in as much trouble as he was.
Rowdy put his hands on her shoulders, started to ease her back behind him—and voices sounded outside the door. He and the waitress both held their breath.
“You see him?”
“Not yet.”
“He’s probably cowering in the johns.”
Rowdy scowled. He did not cower. Okay, so he hunkered down in a pantry. But that was just good common sense. Not cowering. Hell no.
She reached back and patted him again, this time on the thigh.
“We’ll check it out, but in case we missed him, I want you outside the back door, Hicks. Smith, you stay at the front. If either of you see him, remember, we need him alive, but not necessarily kicking.”
The men laughed.
Rowdy could feel her trembling, and he wrapped his arms around her. They both waited another thirty seconds. Finally she turned toward him, and, both hands flat on his chest, she backed him up. “Carefully,” she whispered. “There are bags on the floor, cans everywhere.”
Rowdy dug out his cell phone, opened it and used it like a flashlight. He saw a narrow opening behind a shelf.
“Stay there,” she said. “I’ll turn on the light and step out. If no one is watching, I’ll call the police.”
Rowdy caught her wrist with his free hand. The blue light of the phone shone on her face, exaggerating her lashes, the shape of that tempting mouth.
“No police,” he told her.
She paused. “Do I want to know why?”
“’Course you do, but I can’t go into it right now.” Damn, it was insane, but he wanted to kiss her. And he would. But not yet. “Check the back door. If there’s only one man there, no problem. I can handle that.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“Shh,” he told her with a smile, even though she’d whispered. She had her head way back to glare up at him, and the differences in their sizes—her petite and so feminine, him taller and much stronger—turned him on. He felt like a caveman, but so what? “I swear to you, I’m not a threat.” Not to her. Not to anyone innocent. “But I do need to go, or others might be hurt.”
She searched his face, gave him a light punch to the shoulder, and said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
Praying she wouldn’t betray him, that she wouldn’t go ahead and call the cops, or worse, give him away to the goons, Rowdy stood beside the shelving and…waited.
Seconds later she came back. “There are four men now at the front of the bar. They’re starting to question customers. If anyone saw you duck back this way—”
“Doubtful.” So only one man remained at the back. Perfect. Rowdy pulled her farther into the room. “Give me your name.”
That threw her. “I don’t—”
Pulling her to her tiptoes, he pressed a firm kiss to her mouth. Her lips were soft, warm, and he wanted more than the three seconds he took. A whole lot more. But that’d have to come later.