“If you keep staring at the clock like that, the glass is going to crack,” Pat muttered.

Anna stuck her tongue out at him and turned her back on the ticking hands. “Johnny should be at Harold’s office soon. I just want to know what the asshole says to him.”

“He said he would report everything back to you, and I’m sure he will.” He tossed her a towel. “Keep yourself busy. Go clean something, or take inventory. But stop standing there looking like you’re going to murder the poor antique clock.”

Snapping the towel out, she wiped at a smudge on the bar and moved on to the next until it was spotless. They weren’t open yet, so there were no customers to tend to. She strode around the bar, her heavy boots clomping loudly with each step. Music, she needed music to drown out her racing thoughts for a few more hours. Pat said he was headed into the kitchen to help Daryl with lunch prep, and Anna reached up to the computer they played music from for the bar. She skimmed through the playlists and settled on some Disturbed she could blast from the speakers for the next hour until they opened.

She sang along with the words, wiping down tables and straightening chairs and stools, her mind drifting from her worry about Harold alone with Johnny. The music cut off suddenly three songs in, and she whipped around to yell at Pat for killing her groove, but it wasn’t him standing by the computer with a horrified look on his face.

“How on earth do you listen to that ghastly music?” Prentice Jenson snapped. She wore a tailored fur coat, and a Gucci bag hung from the crook of her elbow. “I suppose it goes with your hair.”

Anna slapped the towel over her shoulder and glowered. “We’re not open for business yet. Be a dear and see yourself out.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, not until we speak.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Anna said, her tone as polite as possible. Did she text Harold and let him know his mother ambushed her?

“Yes, we do, if you insist on chasing after my son.”

Anna crossed her arms as her face screwed up in annoyance. “Chasing after your son? I’m not attacking him, Prentice. Your son and I have fallen in love, and if you can’t handle that, I’m not sure what to tell you. He’s nearly thirty, and I’d like to think no respecting mother would interfere with her son’s love life at that age.”

“She would if he was with a woman like you.” Prentice sniffed and her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something foul. “I will not have my son with a woman who runs a bar and dyes her hair horrendous colors.”

“I don’t know, Harry seems to really like the violet.”

Prentice’s face turned blotchy red, and Anna smirked. “Harold, his name is Harold, and you’re not going to be in his life. I won’t allow it.”

“You should be happy he’s with me,” Anna said, her words shaking with her anger barely in check. “I’m a self-sustaining woman who runs her own business, and a successful one at that.”

“You are currently being charged with assault,” Prentice snapped. “And this is a bar, not a proper business. Your father was a biker and your mother…well, the whole city knows what your mother was. She had you before she was even married, didn’t she?”

Anna’s arms fell to her side as she took a threatening step forward. “Don’t you dare talk about my parents. You have no right, none.”

The grin that spread across that old bat’s face turned Anna’s stomach. “I will do as I please because, unlike you, I have power in this city. I’ll speak with Harold this weekend at our Sunday night family dinner, the one to which you are not invited, and he’ll be informed to stay away from you once this case is finished. If you try to come after him again, you’ll wish this Johnny Tory person had ruined you instead of me. Have a good day, Anna.”

Anna was rooted to the spot as Prentice marched out of The Crawler and into the chilly January weather. She told herself she had nothing to worry about. Harold had come to his senses and changed. He would stand up to his mother this time, and they would be together.

Are you sure he’s really changed? the doubting voice in her mind chipped in. You remember how easily he turned from you last time. It could just as easily happen again, and you know you can’t handle his rejection a second time.

“Anna? Are you alright?” Pat asked as he exited the kitchen. “Was someone here?”

“No, just me talking to myself,” she lied and forced a smile back on her face.

She turned the music back on so he wouldn’t ask any more questions and busied herself for the next hour. When the time came to open, she turned the music down to a reasonable volume and did what she was good at, taking care of her guests, yet she worried nonstop about what the next few days would bring for her and Harold. She wouldn’t let their second chance slip away easily. Prentice could make threats all she wanted, but Anna was stronger now and so was Harold. They would find a way to make their relationship work. They had to, otherwise, Anna would be left alone with a bar and no heart left to run it.

* * *

Harold heard Walter greet someone outside his office door and checked the clock on his desk. He liked to believe people would be punctual when it was necessary. For instance, meeting with one’s lawyer about a contract that was signed, or the lawyer representing the defendant in an assault charge. Harold was reminded that not everyone was as punctual as he was.

Johnny was nearly an hour late, and Harold ground his teeth. Usually, he would refuse to meet with someone who chose to not respect his time, but he needed to speak with this man to help save Anna and her bar. Walter’s voice came through the intercom on his desk a few seconds later.

“Sir, Mr. Tory is here to see you.”

“Thank you, Walter, please send him in. And no phone calls from our other friend?” he asked, meaning Johnny’s uncle.

“None yet, sir, but I will try again.”

“Please do.” Harold stood and adjusted his tie as his door opened and the man he recognized as the one from the bar that night stepped inside. His face was bruised, but the swelling had gone down. Harold saw the photos from the attack in the case file he was given. “Mr. Tory, a pleasure to meet you.”

Johnny stared at his outstretched hand and shook it slowly. “Same to you, I think. Your assistant said this was about the contract I signed with my uncle?”

“That is partially why I wanted you here,” Harold said and motioned for him to take a seat.

Johnny plopped down in the chair in front of the desk and smirked. “Oh, wait, I get it, this is about Anna, isn’t it? You want to know what happened that night and see how you can save her.”

“I am her lawyer, yes, but I would like to speak with you about this contract. Since my father passed, I’ve been slowly checking his work. I unfortunately didn’t know about this contract until Anna informed me of it.”

“I see, and what do you want to know besides the fact that her going to jail means it’s null and void?”

Harold’s jaw clenched. He pictured himself lunging across the desk and strangling the man, but he was here to help Anna, not land them both in prison, though at least his assault would be real. “A few minor details, really. Such as, what was the relationship between your uncle and Winston Crawley like?”

Johnny laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Winston Crawley. Everyone thought he was a damned saint, but he was a manipulative bastard. I told my uncle, I told him not to give in and make that deal, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“I was under the impression Terry and Winston were friendly,” Harold stated.

“Is that what Anna told you?”

“She and several others who knew them. It’s even in the notes left by my father.”

Johnny shook his head. “All lies. My family’s owned that building for decades. Winston was a fast talker trying to take it away from us for the sake of that pathetic excuse for a bar. He said he wanted to build a legacy and leave behind something his daughter could grow when he retired, but he wanted her to be able to own it outright.”

“And you didn’t agree with Terry?”

“Not even close. Anna is just like her old man,” he scoffed. “She draws you in with a smile and her laugh, and the next thing you know, she stabs you in the back.”

Harold bit his tongue hard to hold in the insults he wanted to fling at the man. “Well, as far as the contract goes, everything is still in order. Per the contract, the bar will fall out of Anna’s control and into that of the landlord—you or Terry,” he said, hoping he came across as a neutral party.

“Good, that’s good. She doesn’t deserve to own a bar anyway.”

“Because of what she did to you during this supposed assault or before when she refused to continue your relationship?” Harold asked, using his best lawyer voice and his steady gaze as Johnny’s darkened with anger.

“She told you that?”

“She is my client,” he explained simply. “She told me everything about her relationship with you so I could better understand what happened between you.”

“What happened is that bitch broke into my apartment and beat the living shit out of me,” he raged, leaping to his feet. “She nearly killed me!”

“Actually, the medical report states that wounds from a bat should have been much worse,” Harold said, pulling out the report and sliding it across his desk. He showed it to Anna last night and she’d cursed Johnny three ways to Sunday. “Would you care to read it for yourself?”

Johnny’s jaw worked. “No, I would not. I know what happened that night.”

“Yes, you state she broke into your apartment and proceeded to beat you. Granted, Anna had a bat, but you are nearly twice her size. It’s interesting how she managed to get the drop on you so easily.” He tapped his pen on the desk, waiting for Johnny to respond, but he said nothing. “You do understand my client is claiming she went into your apartment to save you from whoever did attack you.”

“She’s lying,” he seethed, spittle flying from his lips in his anger.

“Why she would lie is what I’m having a hard time understanding.”

Johnny ran a hand over his short hair and shoved his other in his jacket pocket as he paced around the office. “Since you already know, I guess it won’t matter if I tell you that she came onto me first and that she offered me sex to give her a discount on her rent. She’s a slut, just like her mother was, and everyone knows it. Why do you think she runs a bar?”

Harold was on his feet and around the desk before he realized what he was doing. He grabbed Johnny by his jacket and shoved him up against the wall. “Don’t you dare call her a slut,” he snapped. “You do not get to speak of her, not after what you did.”

To his surprise, Johnny sneered. “I knew it. I heard you and Anna were doing the hanky-panky in the back of her bar, but I wasn’t sure until now. Isn’t it against some regulation for you to sleep with your clients?”

Harold let him go but stayed in his face. “We are back together, yes, and if you think for one damn second I’m going to let you take her down for some bogus assault charge so you can get her bar, you’ve got another think coming, Johnny boy. I never lose.”

“That’s true, you do have a spotless record,” he agreed. “I’ll be thrilled to break it for you. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some planning to get back to. Have to decide what I’m going to do with The Crawler once Anna is out of my way. I’m thinking of turning it into a club—no, a strip club. I think it would liven up the space, don’t you? I’ll have to destroy everything in it, of course, all those family photos, all those treasured memories of hers—”

Harold yelled as he grabbed Johnny again and slammed him back into the wall. “You threaten her again, I’ll throw you out the nearest window. Understand? And if you think I’m a hard-ass lawyer, wait until you meet my mother. She’ll be sure the judge makes you thank me for throwing you out on your ass. Got it?”

Johnny swallowed hard. “Threats. Perfect. One more thing I can add to my testimony when this all goes to court.”

“Sir?” Walter called out, and Harold released Johnny. “Is everything okay? Do I need to call the police?”

“Yes, Harold, do the police need to come? My, first Anna and then you. I wonder who they’ll believe if you’re charged with assaulting me, too. See you around, tough guy.” He whistled as he waltzed out of the office, waving obnoxiously over his shoulder.

“Sir?” Walter asked.

“I’m fine, Walter, thank you, and thanks for coming in when you did.”

“Would you really have thrown him out the window?” he asked, a smile playing on his face.

“No, I’d throw him off the damn roof,” Harold muttered. “I need to call Anna. Still no word from Terry?”

“If you keep asking me every fifteen minutes, I might actually get annoyed with you.”

“You’re right, sorry.”

“No, I understand. If someone was coming after my wife like this, I’d be on edge, too. Why don’t you go to the bar and talk to Anna in person? You look like you could use the pick me up, and you don’t have anything else scheduled for today.”

After his encounter with Johnny, he needed a drink. “You know, that does sound like a good idea. If anything comes up—”

“I’ll call you. Now get out of here.”

Harold grabbed his keys and decided on the way to see Anna he would edit what really happened between him and Johnny. If she found out he threatened the bastard, he would never hear the end of her giving him crap for losing his temper. Though she would find it highly entertaining. Harold was in a precarious situation with Johnny now. He doubted he would be able to get the man to come back and speak with him again unless he had a damn good reason. It bothered him not knowing Johnny’s angle for wanting the bar in the first place. Achieving that goal was clearly his end game, but for what purpose? Johnny was in no financial straits, at least none that Harold had been able to dig up, and losing rent from the bar wouldn’t be detrimental to his income. All the apartments in the building were filled.

So why does he want the bar?

The questioned nagged at him. He parked outside the bar and put his worries aside as he stepped inside and heard Anna’s laughter carrying through the room. The warmth spreading through him was immediate, and when she found her way into his arms, the rest of the world faded away.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“All right, I guess. Can I buy you a drink?”

“You can buy me a drink and lunch. Go to our booth. I’ll get an order put in. You sure everything’s fine?”

He kissed her nose and brushed her hair from her face. “Yes, everything’s good.”

She eyed him funny but walked away as he headed to the booth. He thought he’d gotten away with it, but a few minutes later, she returned with two pints filled with dark liquid and leaned in close, whispering, “You’re still a bad liar.”

“Would it make you feel better if I simply said I threatened to throw him out the window?” he offered.

The grin that broke across her face was answer enough. “Details. Lunch and details.”

He caved and nodded. She had a right to know what was going on and how much more trouble he may have caused for her.

* * *

On Sunday, Harold was combing his fingers through his hair. “Anna?”

“Huh?” she replied without looking up from the laptop in front of her. She was typing her official statements about her relationship with Johnny and laying out a solid argument for him harassing her, leading to the fight recorded at the bar and him planning to set her up.

“Did you decide what you’re wearing? Dinner’s in about an hour.”

“Dinner?” She frowned. “Are we going out?”

“You remember. Sunday night dinner is family night at Mom’s,” he reminded her.

Her face paled and she refused to meet his gaze. “Right, dinner with your mother. Yeah, I don’t think I’m welcome.”

“What do you mean? You can come. She can just deal with it.”

“Hmm…you can go without me. Really, I don’t mind.”

“Anna, what are you hiding?” he pushed when she fiddled with her necklace.

“Nothing. I just don’t want to ruin your night with your mom, that’s all.”

He sighed and removed the laptop from her legs, picked her hands up in his, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

She squeezed his hands and nibbled her bottom lip. “Your mother and I had a conversation Friday when she popped into the bar…” She trailed off and tried gently to pull her hands from his, but he didn’t let her. “Harold, it’s fine. I can’t expect her to love me overnight.”

“What did she say to you exactly?”

“I’m not sure you want to know.”

He stalked around the room, hands on his hips, and debated his next move. She did this last time, too. Found ways to mess with Anna, but back then, he didn’t find out for weeks after it happened because Anna hid them from him. Prentice Jenson wasn’t going to get in his way. He pulled out his cell to call his mother but decided this was not a conversation he wanted to have over the phone with her.

“This is what I want you to do,” he told Anna, still pacing. “I want you to get all dolled up. Find a fancy dress, get your heels, and get ready to go out.”

“Out? And where exactly are we going out?” she asked, a curious glint in her eyes.

“I’m going to take a quick run over to my mother’s house and tell her exactly what she doesn’t want to hear,” he explained. “When I’m finished, I’m coming back here to pick you up and we’re going out. Dancing. I haven’t been dancing since you left, so we’re going dancing.”

“Are you sure about this?”

He tackled her to the bed and rolled her over so she lay on top of him, kissing her fiercely as he held her tight. “I’ve never been so sure of anything, but I’m damn sure of you, Anna Crawley. I fucked up last time, I realize that now. And this is the time to officially put my mother in her place and let her know she doesn’t get a say in her son’s life anymore. I’m all grown up and she has to deal with it.”

The kiss turned into more and he grunted with want, but they would have all night to tear each other’s clothes off after he dealt with his mother. Jenny would be there. His sister would back him up if he needed it, but he would not let Anna be dragged through the mud any more than she already had been because of Johnny.

He withdrew his lips from hers, nuzzled her neck one more time, and pushed himself off the bed. “Be ready. We are going to have quite the night. I can feel it.”

“Hmm, funny, so can I.” Her fingers brushed gently against his swollen cock through his trousers. He caught it and kissed her palm, nipping at the base of her thumb as she bit her lip and her head fell back. She wore a tank with no bra again, and he stared in awe as her nipples hardened to points of desire beneath the thin fabric.

Over the past week, Anna and he had discovered a new passion neither one realized until now. They were both quite fond of quickies. The long, luxurious, drawn out evenings of sex were great, too, but there was something about how a quickie made their blood pump and left that rosy, satisfied look on Anna’s face that made Harold want them all the time.

He grabbed her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed. He grabbed the top of her knit shorts and panties, and yanked them from her body as she gasped in pleased shock. She fumbled with his pants, undoing the belt hastily and freeing him. When he filled her hand, she squeezed and he quivered with the want overwhelming his senses. He shoved her hand aside and spread her legs wide.

He imagined all the ways he would take her now that she was his. All the ways she teased him as much as he teased her, bringing him right to the edge and drawing back at the last second. He thought of that morning when he came upon her doing the dishes and couldn’t resist that perfect ass barely covered in her panties as she walked around in his t-shirt. He had taken her right there against the kitchen sink.

As his gaze flickered to hers, he saw the same memories and desires filling her eyes as he rubbed his cock against her swollen lips, wet and begging for fulfillment. He planned to ease himself in and take his time, but she shifted her hips at the last second and he filled her sheath in one movement. Her hands curled in the sheets as a sigh flowed from her mouth, her back arching off the bed.

So much for going slow. Harold’s control vanished and his primal desire to possess this woman overrode his intentions. He thrust hard, driving within her body as his thumb rubbed her clit. Her moans urged him on faster, and when she clutched at him, desperate to hold him deep inside her body, he moved harder, each thrust intense as he pushed her to the edge of ecstasy and fell over that ledge with her.

Anna’s cry came a few seconds before he felt his release wash over him and he spilled into her, his knees shaking and the rest of him stiffening before suddenly nothing more than a limp noodle. He pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside her.

“You…you sure you want to go to your mom’s?” she asked breathless.

“Yes, I should so she doesn’t do anything else to embarrass me, or herself, for that matter.” He kissed Anna’s nose and her cheeks, leaving her delicious lips for last. “I’ll be back soon.”

She pouted, but he climbed off the bed and cleaned himself off in the bathroom. She hopped into the shower behind him, and his gaze admired her naked beauty and those bouncing breasts. It didn’t help when she ran her hands over herself, from those mounds of flesh to her ass, and with a wicked giggle, stepped into the shower.

“You’re going to get it later,” he promised.

“I’ll be looking forward to it. Now go so you can hurry and get back.” She blew him a kiss and closed the glass door.

He fixed his hair and sprayed on cologne, thinking of any other excuse to stay and watch Anna shower, but the sooner he left, the sooner he could get back to his night with Anna. His mother wouldn’t ruin their Sunday night off.

Harold pulled his green Camaro into his mother’s driveway twenty minutes later when his cell rang. “Walter? I hope you’re not working on a Sunday night. Your wife will kill me.”

“Not working, but I got a phone call from my buddy in the UFC. We found our guy.”

“You’re sure?” he asked excitedly.

“I believe so. His name is Josh Green. My friend said for a while he was bringing some hooligan around who claimed he wanted to be a fighter, but the guy was an idiot. He couldn’t remember the name, but I sent him a picture of Johnny and he confirmed it.”

“Josh Green.” Harold rubbed his cheek where this man had punched him in the face. “Thanks, Walter. This is going to be a big help.”

“Good. Now I’m going to get back to my glorious night of wrangling the triplets. See you in the morning, sir,” he said and hung up.

Harold tapped his cell on the palm of his hand. Kids. He was so wrapped up in being back with Anna he hadn’t even thought of where this new path could lead. She’d spoken of being a mom to him a few times, wondering what it would be like. He was happy she wanted kids as much as he did. Now that future son or daughter, or both, was in reach, and he couldn’t wait to get started on it.

He almost ran to the front door of the house and knocked as he walked inside. “Mother?”

“Ah, there you are,” Prentice called out and appeared in the entrance to the dining room. “We were beginning to think you forgot.”

“No, I would never forget Sunday night dinner,” he assured her, kissing her cheek. “But I’m afraid I can’t stay tonight. I have other plans with the woman you found it necessary to threaten to stay out of my life.”

Prentice laughed, a high-pitched sound that said she thought he was kidding. “That’s absurd. Why on earth would I go to The Crawler? It’s too far beneath me to waste my time, and that woman, well, she won’t last long with you.”

“Actually, she will,” he informed her. “I came by to tell you to stay out of my life as far as who I’m with. I’m not a child and will be with who I want. Anna is who I want. Threaten her again, and you won’t be seeing your son for a very, very long time.” He walked past her into the dining room. He wanted to ask Jenny what she was up to this evening, but when he stepped into the dining room and saw Bailey instead of his sister, he froze. “What are you doing here?”

“Your mother invited me over for dinner,” Bailey said, a predatory grin stretching across lips he’d once found attractive. “Is there a problem?”

“Of course not. My mother can invite whomever she wishes, and I, in turn, can choose not to stay.” He turned on his heel and aimed for the front door.

“Harold, wait,” his mother ordered. “Stop right this instant. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I am not. You are, though, thinking you can threaten the woman I love to stay away from me simply because you do not approve of her,” he stormed, whipping around to stare her down. “I let her walk away from me once because of you—both of you. I’m not going to lose her again.”

“You can’t honestly expect things to work out. She’s not right for you,” Prentice scolded him and reached over to grab Bailey’s arm. “This woman right here, she is who you should be with. Think of your legacy, of the children you could have.”

Harold’s gut roiled and he stepped back towards the door. “Is that what you’re doing here? Are you two mapping out my future behind my back?” he asked in a whisper of disbelief. Prentice’s eyes hardened, and Bailey had the decency to look uncomfortable, shifting on her feet. “This is a new low, even for you, Mother. I’m going now.”

“You can’t walk away from your mother forever!”

Harold’s hand was on the door when he rolled his eyes. “No, and I don’t want to, but here’s the deal. Anna is with me. She’s going to be with me, so if you want me here for another Sunday night family dinner,” he said with a pointed glare to Bailey, “Anna will be coming with me. No more threatening her to stay away from me, and no more insulting who she is. If you do, that’ll be the end of it.”

Prentice laughed, but when Harold didn’t smile, she stopped and placed a hand to her chest as if he’d struck her. “You…you would do that? For her?”

“You have no idea what I would do for that woman. Is Jenny here?”

“Upstairs,” she answered quietly.

Harold moved to the stairs and yelled up. “Jenny! Want to go dancing with Anna and me?”

“You’re leaving me alone tonight?” Prentice asked, offended. “Is it not bad enough I’m losing my son, but you’re going to take away my daughter, too?”

“It’s one night, Mother. Besides, you have Bailey to keep you company.”

Jenny appeared at the top of the stairs, heels in one hand and coat in the other, wearing a vibrant blue dress that spun out around her knees. “Dancing? Hell yes!”

“Jenny!” Prentice scowled at her daughter’s cursing and her running down the steps.

“Bye, Mother. I’ll be home later!”

Harold held open the door for Jenny, and she slipped into her heels and coat and raced out the door into the chilly evening air. “I’ll see you next Sunday, Mother,” he said and waved. When he closed the door, both women glared openly at him, but he no longer cared what they thought. Anna made him see this was his life and he would live it however he saw fit. The stuffy, sophisticated life his parents had was nothing like what he wanted to come home to every evening.

He wanted to see his wife with violet hair running a bar and raising their crazy kids who played out in the mud and knew what laughing was all about. He wanted a future he could look forward to, and being stuck in a corner office looking down on the rest of the world was not a part of that. The gears turned in his head as he drove back to his house and honked twice for Anna. When the front door opened and he saw her in a tight, black dress with four-inch heels and her leather jacket, his heart thundered against his ribs. Her violet hair hung loose around her shoulders and blew around her face with the cold air as she raced to the Camaro.

“Jenny! Coming with us?” she asked as Jenny slipped into the back seat.

“A night of dancing versus a night of listening to Mother complain about shit I don’t care about? Not even a debate,” Jenny exclaimed. “Let’s do this!”

Anna rested her hand on Harold’s thigh as she leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, let’s,” she agreed.

Harold revved the engine and took off into the night.