Eyeing the crowd at the door of the bar, I placed five beers on the tray for Megan, the waitress working the floor.

Garnishing the Corona’s with limes, she mused, “I can’t believe it’s so busy. It’s only seven, and I haven’t even had time to take a pee.”

Bridgette, my bar manager, looked up from her paperwork and asked, “Are you complaining, Megs? You’re working the prime station tonight. But if it’s too much, Lainey can pick up some slack.”

Megan’s cheeks flushed pink. “No, of course not. I’m just not used to being this busy when Chase isn’t playing a set.”

Smiling at me, her liquid brown gaze lingered on mine for a moment longer than necessary. Sure, I was the boss, but in this industry, that didn’t preclude a little after-hours fun. And Megan had made it abundantly clear she was down for it.

I glanced pointedly at her tray. “Nobody likes warm beer. Better get those delivered.”

“Oh … yeah. I’ll just …Yeah …” Cheeks flaming, she turned on her heel and scampered away.

Bridgette sighed as she tied on an apron. “If you weren’t playing undercover CEO, the waitresses might leave you alone.”

Bridgette was one of the only staff members at Nite Owl who knew I owned the place. I’d hired my brother’s high school girlfriend years ago when I bought my first restaurant on Sixth, and now she ran most of the day-to-day administrative operations for both my bars.

I pulled a couple of beers from the well, then wiped my hands on the towel draped over my shoulder. “I’m more worried about them following me upstairs.”

“Because you’re so damned irresistible?” Bridgette scoffed. “Give me a break. You and your brother both think women are only after one thing.”

Raising a brow, I leaned a hip against the bar.

“Jesus, Chase. I meant a commitment.” Bridgette drew out the last word and watched me flinch. Satisfied with my reaction, she continued, “Most of these girls are just in it for a quick and dirty. And that’s all good. Telling them you own the place probably wouldn’t change that. Believe it or not, these,” she pointed to her tits, “don’t automatically lower our IQ. Women have goals beyond finding some dude to take care of them.”

Maybe all the zeros in my bank account did play into my overall fear of motive. But one look at my mother proved that money wasn’t always the deciding factor. Callie had followed my father around like a puppy since they were teenagers, giving him two sons and all the love he could ask for. And Tyler never returned the favor. I couldn’t stand him, but deep in my heart, I feared we were alike in more ways than one.

I brushed a kiss to Bridgette’s temple as she poured a draft beer from the tap. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll take it into consideration.”

Shaking her head, she placed the pilsners of Miller Lite on the tray, a rueful smile curving her lips. “No, you won’t. Do you want to deliver these, or should I?”

Following her gaze to the other end of the bar, I forced my lips to bend, returning Tiffany’s finger wave with a curt nod.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “I didn’t see her down there.”

“Looks like she brought a friend to sweeten the pot,” Bridgette chortled. But when I busied myself wiping a spot off the clean bar like it was my sole purpose in life, she cocked her head. “I’m guessing the Doublemint twins aren’t on the agenda tonight.”

My eyes drifted to the clock, then the door, scanning the small crowd huddled around the bouncer. “No. I have a … thing.”

“You really need a wingman. I’m tired of being a traitor to my own kind, running interference for your many admirers. You don’t pay me enough for that.”

I barked out a laugh. “I pay you plenty, Bridge. And I’m not asking you to run interference. I’m honest with every chick I …” Bridgette’s smile turned sardonic as I struggled for the word. “Date,” I finally managed to choke out.

“Taking a woman to your office to rattle the walls is dating?” Hoisting her tray, she flounced away, calling over her shoulder, “Good to know.”

Ignoring Bridgette, my focus returned to the front door, and my heart jumped into my throat when I spotted Taryn offering her ID to Seth the bouncer. I ogled her unabashedly, from the skinny jeans hugging her curves, to the silky ivory blouse, to the strappy sandals.

God, she had a great ass.

And then I noticed the gorilla beside Taryn, who decided it was a good idea to snake an arm around her waist. Even from this distance, which I cut substantially when I slid out from behind the bar, I could see the leer on the dude’s face and Taryn’s elbow against his stomach. I called to Seth, who seemed more interested in examining Taryn’s ID than dealing with the asshole dry humping her leg. But the bouncer didn’t hear me over the steady beat of the music pouring from the speakers.

Bridgette’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm as I passed. “Chase, what’s going on?” Her gaze followed mine to the skirmish. “Let Seth handle it.”

Shaking off her grip, I pushed forward.

“That’s really sweet of you,” I heard Taryn tell the gorilla as I neared. “But I’m meeting someone.”

A laugh rumbled from low in the guy’s chest. “That’s okay. The more the merrier. We’ll find your friend and make it a party.”

Catching the guy’s wrist, I wrenched his arm behind his back, and growled close to his ear, “What if her friend isn’t interested in partying?”

The kid shrieked, wriggling to get free. “Ouch! Let me go. I didn’t do nothing.”

I shoved the kid in Seth’s direction, scowling. My bouncer was lucky I had my hands full, or his arm would’ve been the one I was about to break.

“What’s your name?” I asked the kid, tightening my grip. “Calm the fuck down and tell me your name.”

The kid quit squirming long enough to wheeze, “Jake.”

“Well, I’d say manhandling a lady qualifies as something, Jake,” I hissed. “Ask Seth here for your cover charge back and then use it for a cab to carry your ass home.”

“He’s got a friend, boss,” Seth advised as he retrieved some cash from the lockbox.

Jake nodded vigorously. “Yeah, a friend. I’ve got a friend.”

The kid had a pleading tone as if he were trying to convince me there was someone inside the club that would report this incident if he did, indeed, go missing.

Releasing Jake’s arm in favor of a strong hold on his neck, I nudged him toward the door. “Wait outside, and someone will send your friend right out.”

“Yes, sir. I mean … thank you … sir,” Jake stammered.

And then he was off, lumbering toward the exit with a couple backward glances to make sure I wasn’t following. When I turned my attention back to Taryn she was biting her lip to keep from laughing. But I wasn’t amused.

“Are you okay?” Tilting her chin, I examined her face. “Did he do something to you? Touch you?”

“No. It’s fine. He was just drunk.” A nervous bubble of laughter tripped from her pretty lips. “It’s my fault. I forgot my cash, and I couldn’t get in without paying the cover.”

My gaze snapped to Seth. “What?”

The blood drained from his face as he held up his hands. “She wasn’t on the list, boss.”

“I’m not talking about the cover,” I growled. “That dude was pawing her, or didn’t you notice?”

Warm fingers trailed up my arm. Taryn’s. Some of the agitation coiling in my belly unwound when I looked down at her.

“Are you under the impression I can’t take care of myself?” she asked with a smile.

Even if she could take care of herself, she shouldn’t have to in my bar. “No. But …”

Since anything I was about to say would likely make me sound like a caveman, I shifted my attention to Seth. Just in case he was under the impression he was off the hook, I narrowed my gaze. “We’ll talk later. Put her name on the list.”

He nodded. “Got it. Karen, right?”

Taryn shifted her feet. “No, it’s, um … Taryn.”

And then I saw it, the exact moment when Seth put it together. His eyes widened, and his shoulders straightened. He no longer registered my presence because all of his attention was on Taryn. “Shit … I didn’t recognize you.” He slid off the stool to get a better look. “You’re her … You’re Taryn Ayers.”

The small crowd waiting to turn over their cover charges went quiet, and Taryn dropped her gaze to the floor. “I … um … Yeah.”

At the subtle shift in energy, I pulled Taryn to my side and spun us toward the main floor. After elbowing my way through the crowd, we emerged on the other side of the bar, and I ushered her through the door marked No Admittance and into the hallway that led to my loft.

“I shouldn’t have come,” she said, her breath uneven. “Do you have a back entrance?”

I rounded on her, and when I caught sight of her eyes, impossibly large and a little scared, I couldn’t help myself. My mouth crashed into hers, my tongue demanding entry as I maneuvered her against the wall. Her lips parted on a gasp. But then her hands were in my hair, and it was all hot breath and soft moans. And fuck, the taste. Like strawberries fresh from the vine.

“Fuck, you’re sweet.” My palms glided up her sides, fingers inching towards her breasts. “I knew you’d be sweet.”

Her little pants warmed the hollow of my neck. “So are you.”

I stroked her jaw with the pad of my thumb, and even in the dim light, I saw the flush color her cheeks.

“One more taste.”

It wasn’t a question. More like a vow. One more taste and I’d peel her off the wall. One more taste and we’d go get that drink I’d promised. One more taste and I’d be able to control myself.

My lips ghosted over hers. But this time it wasn’t my restraint in question. Taryn levered up on her toes, and twining her fingers into my hair, she pulled my mouth to hers. Frustration poured off of her as she fumbled to find her rhythm.

Cupping her cheek, I broke our connection. “Easy, Taryn … I’m right here.”

When our lips met again, our tongues tangled in perfect sync. As we fell deeper into the kiss, one thought rolled around in my head. I wanted Taryn in my loft. In the one place she shouldn’t be. The craving won out, like I knew it would. “Come upstairs with me?”

Smiling, she whispered, “What’s upstairs?” as if it were a secret. And maybe it was. Because I sure as fuck couldn’t tell anyone.

“My loft.”

She inclined her head, a funny smile curving her lips. “You sleep here?”

“And shower.” Twirling a lock of her hair around my finger, I grinned. “And watch TV. Cook, on occasion.”

Taryn’s gaze shifted unknowingly to the door to my loft. Taking it as a sign, I whispered in her ear, “Say yes.”

And to my amazement, she did.