Lori Foster (16 page)

At the mention of the phone call, Avery quickly lost her humor. Still, she gave Rowdy a salute and hurried along.
It’s just a customer,
she told herself.
Not a big deal.

Lifting the receiver, she said in her cheeriest voice, “Getting Rowdy Bar and Grill. How may I help you?”

The silence made her feel ill.

“Hello?” She waited, but no reply. From across the room where she’d left him, Rowdy watched her, his attention palpable.

Hoping he wouldn’t question her, she shrugged and started to put the phone back in the cradle.

Through the receiver, a loud crack—maybe gunfire—made her jump so hard that she almost dropped the phone. She stared at it in horror.

Was that a warning? Or had someone just been shot?

Laughter came over the line.

Masculine laughter.

In a rush, she slammed down the phone—and belatedly remembered that Rowdy stood there taking in the whole thing.

What to do, what to do.
Forcing all panic from her expression, she glanced at Rowdy and tried for a cavalier laugh. He wasn’t amused. The determination in his gaze told her that he knew something was wrong.

Just how wrong it might be... That’s what Avery wanted to know.

Her heart continued to pound too hard and fast as she took over and sent Cannon to work the floor. As Rowdy had predicted, the women followed, and men quickly claimed their empty seats.

For the remainder of the night she was so frazzled that she spilled drinks, bruised her hip on the ice case and accidentally dumped a bag of pretzels all over the floor.

Over and over again, she heard that awful gunshot.

They had two more hours until closing, and she couldn’t wait to call it a day. Knowing she’d go home with Rowdy, that she wouldn’t have to spend the night alone, was the only thing helping her to hold it together.

Despite the exhaustion, the thought of sleeping with him again had her toes curling inside her shoes. Snuggled up safe against Rowdy, breathing in the essence of his skin and hair, feeling his warmth... It was almost enough to revive her.

She was mopping up the bar with a rag when she saw a woman come up to Rowdy. It seemed like her eyes just naturally knew where to find him and sought him out every few minutes.

Over and over again women came on to him. He’d laugh, tease, chat. But he didn’t get overly familiar with any of them.

This time, however, was different.

Rowdy greeted this lady with a hug.

Avery forgot what she was doing. The whiskey-soaked rag hung limp in her hand. The bubbly little brunette took care not to hurt his back, even cupped a hand to his face and spoke intimately with him.

Ice ran through her veins, followed by a tidal wave of heat. Without realizing it, Avery squeezed the rag, and the whiskey she’d just mopped up all squished out again. The guy sitting in front of her said, “Hey!”

Irked, Avery mumbled, “Sorry,” and again cleaned the spill. She tried turning away. She really did. But she couldn’t keep herself from looking back once more.

Rowdy smiled, teased, even tucked the woman’s hair behind her ear in that same tender way that Avery had stupidly felt was special for her.

Special.
Ha! The only thing
special
was that she hadn’t yet slept with him. Once she did, Rowdy would move on. She knew that, and maybe, just maybe, that accounted for part of her insistence that they wait.

She glared so hard that Rowdy suddenly glanced up, and his gaze clashed with hers.

She thrust up her chin and turned away. Then had to peek back. Rowdy now had his arm around the woman’s shoulders, but he wasn’t smiling anymore.

It didn’t matter. Avery had already accepted that she had no hold on him. Of course he’d flirt. It was in his nature, a vital part of who he was as a man. And with the way women gravitated to him—

Her murderous thoughts stalled when Rowdy started leading the woman toward her.

He wanted to introduce them? No, no, no. That was too much to ask.

But what could she do? She glanced around in a near panic. Abandon the bar? Show that it bothered her?

The hell she would.

If he wanted her to meet his admirers, then she’d pretend it didn’t bother her at all.

Before he’d quite reached them, Avery pasted on a stiff smile that made her cheeks ache.

Rowdy dragged the woman right up to her. “Avery, this is a friend of mine.”

The woman smiled happily. “Hello.”

A friend, huh? Avery barely suppressed a sarcastic snort. And just what the hell did Rowdy’s “friend” have to be so happy about?

Doing her best to play along, Avery said, “Nice to meet you,” and then, even though she couldn’t see the bar through tunnel vision, she tried to get back to work.

“Avery.” Without lowering his voice one iota, Rowdy stated, “I’m not sleeping with her.”

Gasping, Avery spun back around. “Rowdy!”

The woman gave him a sappy, indulgent look of warm affection. “Of course he’s not.” She flapped a hand. “He’s tempting enough, but we worked that stuff out early on. I needed to know his expectations and he—”

Rowdy interrupted her, saying, “That’s enough.”

She leaned into him, but spoke to Avery. “I bet Rowdy has you confounded, doesn’t he?” She tipped her head back to smile up at him. “You do that to every woman.”

They were so damned cozy together that Avery’s molars ground together. “I know exactly what he does to
every
woman.”

Rowdy pulled his friend closer. “How can you know, Avery, when you and I haven’t yet—”

Avery threw the whiskey-soaked rag at him.

It almost hit the woman, who squealed and ducked back.

It
did
hit Rowdy, splatting right in the center of his solid chest, and then slowly dropping to the floor with a sodden plop.

He stared at her with incredulity.

Avery stared back, disbelieving that she’d done such a thing, but also sort of tickled with Rowdy’s look of shock. She’d seen many expressions from him, most of them intimidating, but never this hilarious blank surprise.

A nervous giggle escaped her.

Rowdy’s eyes narrowed.

All around them, the racket from boisterous drinkers seemed to fade. With a hand covering her mouth, Avery took a cautious step backward.

That only hardened Rowdy’s expression and tensed his broad shoulders.

Grinning, his
friend—
Avery couldn’t think of her that way without a mental sneer—grabbed napkins off the bar and patted Rowdy’s chest. “Oh, that was too funny. Glad it missed me, though!”

Avery said, “I wasn’t aiming for you.”

Ms. Touchy-Feely chuckled. “I’m sure Rowdy had it coming.” She leaned forward to whisper, sotto voce, “He’s the quintessential badass, you know.”

Rowdy’s gaze never left Avery. “I’m the one who was just attacked.”

“He’s a rascal, too,” she said while using the napkins to soak up some of the mess off his shirt—and in the process putting her hands all over his chest.

Avery tried not to care, but damn it, she did. Too much.

“He takes great personal pleasure in being disreputable and, well, rowdy.” The annoying woman leaned into him again and said with sugary sweetness, “But he’s also
so
lovable.”

“That’s enough, Alice.”

A dousing of ice water couldn’t have been more jarring. Avery felt her heart hit her feet. Oh, crud. So this was Alice?

Alice smiled knowingly. “Rowdy can take a punch—or a soggy rag, as the case may be—but beware if you try to compliment him. That’s when he gets surly.”

Avery wished for a dark hole to crawl into. She’d made a colossal fool of herself in front of the paragon who had connected so strongly with Marcus. She winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alice said. “I understand. Rowdy is so special that he can have that disorienting effect on people.”

Proving he couldn’t take a compliment, Rowdy said, “I am
not—
”

Alice didn’t give him an opportunity to interrupt her praise. “I think he likes to cultivate the whole bad boy image. But at heart, he’s a really good guy.”

Rowdy stepped in front of Alice. “She really is just a friend.”

Alice leaned around him. “More than a friend,” she protested. “But we have never—” she looked around and bobbed her eyebrows
“—gotten busy.”

Because Alice appeared to want a reply, Avery said, “Okay.”

“I have my own hunky guy,” Alice bragged. “He’s a police detective.”

Suddenly Reese loomed behind them. “If you want to hang on to someone, honey, my arm is available.”

Rowdy slowly closed his eyes—then pried Alice loose.

She immediately turned to Reese. “And here he is!” Hugging up to Reese—who truly was a hunk—Alice said, “Reese, have you met Rowdy’s special lady?”

Special lady?
Avery sputtered, “I’m just the bartender.”

Saying nothing, Rowdy crossed his arms and looked put out by it all.

“Yes, we’ve met,” Reese said to Alice. “Remember when I helped Rowdy work on the bar? Avery was here sometimes, pitching in where she could. Last night she rode with Logan to take Rowdy to the hospital. That’s why she wasn’t here when you came to see Marcus.”

Alice took that as confirmation. “There, you see? She’s very special, just as I said.”

* * *

O
H
,
HOW
HE
would have loved to see Avery’s face when he fired the gun. Though he’d never wanted her to hear him for fear she’d recognize his voice, he couldn’t stifle the laugh as he’d imagined her shock, her probable fear.

Fear was good; it’d make her more amicable to his plans.

If she didn’t feel safe at the bar, in the company of hoodlums, then getting her back where she belonged would be oh-so-much easier.

Already he’d wasted too much energy on this little endeavor. Time to bring the brat back home, where she belonged.

Once there, he’d see to it that she never ventured off again.

CHAPTER TWELVE

R
OWDY
WASN
’
T
MOVED
by Alice’s statement. Avery
was
special. Did Alice think that was news to him? Not being obtuse, he’d already come to that realization all on his own. He didn’t know what to do about it, or what it meant to him, but he’d known enough women to see that Avery was very unique.

Not knowing what else to say, he asked, “Where is Marcus?”

Alice’s smile fell. “He’s at home, in bed. Pepper and Logan are with him.”

Rowdy liked how she stressed the word
home.
It gave him a warm feeling inside, especially since he’d never really had a home of his own. “Everything okay?”

With his thick arm around Alice’s shoulders, Reese said, “She needed to get out, and she won’t leave Marcus when he’s awake, so we waited for him to go to sleep.”

“He sleeps through the night?” Following Reese’s lead, Rowdy went to Avery and put his arm around her. She stiffened up from head to toe, but she didn’t move away.

Probably because she didn’t want to cause a scene.

Course, that hadn’t stopped her from zinging the dirty bar cloth at him.

Reese lifted a brow over Rowdy’s possessive hold, but didn’t comment on it. “We worried about that, but Marcus pretty much just conks out.”

“Maybe he finally feels safe,” Avery offered.

Cold alcohol kept Rowdy’s shirt sticking to his chest. He’d find a creative way to get even...but not tonight.

Tonight he intended only for Avery to sleep.

“Could be.” He knew well how difficult it was to catch any real rest when you couldn’t let down your guard. For him it had become a lifetime habit.

Except when he’d slept with Avery.

“Kids are resilient,” Alice said softly. “He’ll be okay.”

Reese gave her a squeeze. “We’ll see to it.”

Customers came to the bar, so Avery excused herself to pour drinks. Alice put a hand on Rowdy, whispered, “Nice catch,” and then went around and found a seat so she could talk more with Avery.

Now that he and Reese were alone, Rowdy asked, “What’s going on?” He knew it took more than Alice needing a break to have the two of them out so late.

Reese ran a hand over his tired face. “The kid’s mother passed away.”

If Reese wanted him to feel sorry about that, he’d be disappointed. “One less obstacle.”

“Yeah, I know.” Reese looked over to his wife. “I’ve never seen Alice so torn. It’s not in her nature to wish anyone ill, but she was relieved. The shit that kid lived through...”

“I know.” Rowdy’s guts burned every time he thought about it. “What’s that have to do with this late-night visit?”

Reese found a wall to lean on. He looked emotionally spent. “We got the call that she’d died.” He flexed his big fists. “Alice insisted on going to the hospital to see her.”

Rowdy stepped behind the bar to fill a glass with ice and cola. He handed it to Reese. “Morbid streak?”

“That’s not funny.” He downed half the drink. “Alice wanted to tell her that she’d take care of Marcus. I guess...just in case the mom had some latent maternal streak, you know?”

“At least dead people don’t argue.”

“Yeah.” Reese finished off the cola, then held the cool glass to his forehead. “She’s something else, you know?”

Yeah, he did know. “Alice is too caring for her own good.”

“Marcus might argue that point with you.” Reese lowered his arm and pinned Rowdy with his steady gaze. “Alice says the same about you, too.”

Rowdy didn’t want to talk about Alice’s warped perception of his character. “What’s happening with the dad?”

“Basically, he’s screwed. The weapons we found in the truck were stolen and used in other felonies. He had enough drugs for intent to distribute. And given his history, well, let’s just say he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“They were arraigned?”

“Yeah.” Reese handed over his empty glass. “Thanks.”

“More?” Rowdy offered. “Maybe something stronger?”

He shook his head while eyeing the crowd, mostly making sure no one got too close to his wife.

Reese was big enough that a few people backed away from the bar rather than chance it. “You’re scaring off my customers.”

He didn’t care. “There won’t be any bail for the bozos, which means they’ll be locked up until the completion of their trial.”

“How long will that take?”

“Couple of months, maybe longer, to get before the grand jury where they’ll be formally charged. Could take a year or two before it actually goes to trial.”

“Good. Let them rot.” Rowdy didn’t care what happened to them, as long as they weren’t turned free.

“There’s enough evidence against them that Lieutenant Peterson is thinking of offering them up to the feds. If that happens, they’ll try to make a deal.”

No way. If it came down to it, Rowdy would handle the bastards himself—

Reese straightened and stepped closer to Rowdy. “Get that look out of your eyes right now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t.” Reese glanced toward the bar, then lowered his voice even more. “Everything is on track. When we first took them in, they told us to go fuck ourselves.”

“Can I echo that sentiment?”

“If you do, I’ll tell Alice.”

Rowdy clenched his jaw until his temples throbbed.

“Get a grip, Rowdy, and let me tell you how this is going to go down.”

“Spit it out then, damn it.”

For some insane reason, that amused Reese. “Right about now, the seriousness of the situation is starting to sink in on old Darrell and his buddy. With so much evidence against them, only idiots would go to trial.”

“They
are
idiots.”

“Yeah, sure. But as career criminals, they know they’ll get put away for good if they go that route. By saying we’ll offer them up to the feds, we’ll get them to take a plea deal, which would simplify things and they’ll still get fifteen to twenty years.”

It wasn’t long enough, but then, Rowdy wasn’t sure a lifetime would be long enough to satisfy him.

Reese clapped him on the shoulder. “Lighten up, man. They won’t ever again get near you or the kid, and that’s what matters the most, right?”

The ringing of the phone drew Rowdy’s attention. He turned to see Avery stare at it for three seconds before wiping her hands and cautiously lifting the receiver.

The relaxing of her spine and the relief on her face told him it was only a customer.
This
time.

Reese said, “What’s that about?”

“What?”

He nodded toward Avery. “She treated that phone like a venomous snake, and you watched her as if waiting for a clue.”

Sometimes detectives were a pain in the ass. “Something’s going on with her, but I don’t know what.”

“Ex-boyfriend, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Rowdy didn’t want to break Avery’s trust, so he didn’t explain that she’d been flying solo for over a year. More likely, the caller was someone she’d met recently, someone who didn’t have the sense to take no for an answer. But just in case, Rowdy told Reese, “We were followed the other day.”

“By who?”

“If I knew that, why would I tell you about it?”

Aggrieved, Reese said, “Because I’m the law and you aren’t?”

That had never stopped Rowdy before. “I saw the car just hanging around, too.” While telling Reese about the incident, he picked up a bar napkin and a pen and jotted down the plate. “Think you could run these for me?”

Reese took the napkin, looked at it and put it in his pocket. “Sure, but in the meantime, watch your back.”

“I always do.” And for the foreseeable future, he’d be watching Avery’s back, as well.

* * *

T
WENTY
MINUTES
BEFORE
closing, Avery saw her stepfather walk in, and it was such an incongruous sight that it almost knocked her over.
How the hell had he found her?

Rowdy had just given the last call, and the crowd had thinned out.

Avery searched the room, but she didn’t see Fisher anywhere, thank God. Usually, wherever Meyer Sinclair went, Fisher was sniveling close behind. They were friends, but more importantly, they were business partners. Meyer had the stability of history and accumulated resources, and Fisher had fresh success and a very bright future.

She just knew Meyer would want her to come home, and blast it all, she didn’t want to.

Exhaustion couldn’t compete with resentment. When she’d most needed her family to believe her, to support her, they’d sided with Fisher instead.

Why in the world was Meyer Sinclair here now, especially at nearly two in the morning? He looked the same as he had the last time she’d seen him more than a year ago. Wearing a long black wool coat over tailored slacks and a designer sweater, he smoothed his windblown, thinning, brown hair. The cold had left his fair cheeks ruddy. He removed his glasses to clean them.

Avery stood there, watching him, unsure what to do.

After he replaced his glasses, he searched the bar. At first his gaze went right past her, but then shot back. As if he couldn’t take it in, he looked at her, around her, and disapproval showed in every line of his posture. Brows drawn, he started toward her.

No one remained at the bar, thank God, so Avery started out to meet him. If she could keep him near the door, then maybe she could more easily be rid of him. Not that she had anything against Meyer. She didn’t. In fact, she mostly liked him, definitely respected him and knew he adored her mother, which was a plus.

But like everyone else, he’d believed Fisher’s lies, and that meant she wanted to keep him as far away from Rowdy as she possibly—

Rowdy intercepted him. “Can I help you?”

Oh, shoot, shoot, shoot.

Meyer barely gave him notice. “No, thank you.” He made to step forward—and found himself running into Rowdy again.

Avery hastened her step and reached them a breathless five seconds later. Still hoping to send Meyer packing, she wrapped her arms around Rowdy’s biceps and hugged him like a giddy, infatuated girl. “Rowdy, this is my stepfather.” She leaned into him, smiling as if she weren’t still offended over being called a liar. “Meyer, meet Rowdy Yates.”

It was almost ridiculous how big Rowdy looked when compared to Meyer’s shorter stature and lack of physical presence.

She had no idea what her mother saw in the man, other than his obvious wealth and complete adulation.

Meyer dismissed Rowdy, saying, “If you’ll excuse us...”

No, you don’t.
Avery clung to Rowdy, but he didn’t even make a pretense of budging.

She gave Meyer a smug smile. Her stepfather had clout wherever he went, and most recognized it by his attitude alone—unless, apparently, he ventured into the wrong part of town, or, more specifically, into Rowdy’s domain.

With any luck, Meyer would see them as a couple and he’d be dissuaded from nagging at her to return to her old life. Of course, she needed Rowdy to play along. In an effort to convince him, she stopped squeezing his arm and instead slipped an arm around his waist, low enough that she wouldn’t hurt his back, which sort of put her hand over his muscled tush.

Brows drawn, his expression flinty, Rowdy glanced down at her...but he didn’t call her bluff. Instead, he reciprocated, his arm around her, his hand on her hip.

Avery was so surprised by that, she faltered. “Meyer.” Her laugh was a little too loud, and way false. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

He took in their familiar embrace and bristled with discomfort. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”

“I don’t know. Are you here alone?”

“You didn’t think I’d bring your mother here, did you?”

No, it wasn’t her mother she was worried about. But she didn’t want to say Fisher’s name. Rowdy already looked like a dog waiting for a bone to chew on. She wanted him as camouflage, but she didn’t want him compelled to defend her.

And wasn’t that nice? Because she knew without a doubt, unlike her mother and stepfather and all her so-called friends from her past life, if she told Rowdy what happened, he’d believe her one hundred percent. She sighed at how wonderful that made her feel.

Taking her silence as more stubbornness—the accusation he often leveled at her—Meyer puckered up in displeasure. “Yes,” he bit out, “I’m quite alone.”

“Then sure, we can talk.” Yet when she started away from Rowdy, he held on.

Yes, she definitely had a tiger by the tail.

“Rowdy,” she coaxed, “do you mind if we use your office?”

“Good idea.” He lifted a hand and beckoned Cannon over. “Finish up here, will you?”

“Sure thing.” Cannon didn’t ask any questions. He just got to work.

“Come on.” Rowdy led the way toward the back office while Avery tried to think of a way to keep him from knowing too much.

Her staid stepfather trailed along.

Rowdy said as they walked, “We were just closing up for the night. A few more minutes and only employees will be here.” He opened his office door. “Can I get you anything to drink? I think there’s coffee left in the break room.”

“That’s not necessary. I won’t be long.” Again Meyer took in his surroundings. It was clear by his sanctimonious expression that he found everything lacking.

That set Avery off again. She had thought to talk to her stepfather privately, to ensure Rowdy didn’t get drawn into her problems. But she’d be damned before she let Meyer slight him in any way.

Giving him her brightest smile, she said, “Thank you, Rowdy.”

Taking the bait, her stepfather cocked a brow. “Yes, thank you.”

Rowdy gestured to a chair. “Grab a seat.” Keeping Avery at his side, he leaned a hip on the desk.

So many times she’d imagined reuniting with her family, but never, not once, had she pictured it taking place in the bar. With everything that had happened, she couldn’t help but feel defensive.

“Why are you here, Meyer?”

Meyer considered the chair, but chose to stand behind it instead, his hands resting loosely on the chair back. “You should come home.”

“No. Anything else?”