I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Friday night, and not just because I can feel him with my every step. No other experience in my life comes remotely close.

And I have absolutely no idea who he is or how to get in contact with him.

That’s probably a good thing. Right?

He’s still on my mind when I walk into the distillery on Monday morning. As soon as I turn the key, the heat, humidity, and scents wash over me. This is familiar. Sane. Not impulsive and crazy.

I’ve made a career for myself. A name for myself. Within these walls, I have respect, and no one questions that I deserve it. I’m not some girl from the bayou, running wild and trying to survive despite the shitty hand life dealt me.

As my heels click on the old concrete floor, I remind myself that even though whiskey isn’t my passion, this is the right path for me. It doesn’t matter that I spend more time here than I do in my own apartment. This job is a privilege that I’m doing my best to prove I deserve.

Going off the deep end and letting my wild side come back to life isn’t going to help me prove a damn thing except I’ve lost my mind. I have to put him out of my head.

No more club.

No more beautiful tattooed man.

No more getting off track.

I turn the handle of my office door and freeze when I see the lamp on my desk already lit, and thick-soled leather boots resting on my calendar.

What the hell? My hand automatically reaches for the gun in my purse.

“Shoot me, and you’re gonna be the one to patch me up.”

My brother’s distinctive voice halts my movements in a way nothing else could.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get your damn boots off my desk. You can’t be here.”

I can’t even imagine how the hell Rafe got inside. My boss’s husband has this place locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Or maybe the Tower of London. After all, Keira is his crown jewel.

Rafe’s boots stay exactly where they are. “I can’t come ask my little sister if she’s lost her goddamn mind? Because that’s the only reason I can come up with for you to be at Haven.”

“Haven?” The word comes off my tongue as though it’s foreign.

He slides his boots off my desk, leaving traces of mud on my calendar that make me itch to slap him silly.

I’ve worked too damn hard to not leave a mess everywhere I go, but Rafe is a different story. He’ll never be anything but a bayou boy, and he doesn’t see a damn thing wrong with it. Hell, he’s proud of the fact.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, girl.”

I glance down at my watch. “I don’t have time to pretend. I have a meeting with my boss starting in an hour, and I have two hours of work to get done to prep for it.”

“Then maybe you should’ve worked this weekend instead of spending time at a sex club.”

My mouth drops open as shock ricochets through my system. “Are you having me watched?”

He shrugs. “I ain’t got time to babysit you, Tempe, regardless of how much you apparently need it.”

“Who told you?”

Rafe eyes me. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you’ve lost your damn mind. I don’t care how high-and-mighty you think you are these days, there are some places you don’t belong, and Haven is one of them. There are some bad motherfuckers that go there to get their kink on, and I’m not talking about people like us. I’m talking about the rich and powerful kind who would chew you up and toss you out with the trash.”

His warning hits me hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And you shouldn’t. Ever. Stay away from that place and anyone you see coming or going outta there.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “And how do you know so much about this place?”

“Don’t matter, but the fact that I do should warn you off even more.”

I roll my eyes because I’ve gotten this lecture a dozen times. My brother definitely falls under the category of bad motherfucker. He doesn’t live on the right side of the law on his best day. I’m not sure he ever has. One more reason why having him in my office is less than ideal, regardless of the fact my boss’s husband is the wrong side of the law.

“I’m not talking about this with you. So, if that’s all the reason you have to be here, feel free to see yourself out the way you came in.”

Rafe hauls himself out of my chair and stomps across the room. “Tempe, you’re better than that shit. Better than those people. You’ve got a life here. A respectable one that you’ve busted your ass for, because God knows, you’ve lorded it over me plenty. You want to lose everything? Then keep associating with the people at Haven.”

I meet his dark brown eyes, eyes that mirror mine. “I don’t need you telling me what to do anymore. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

His jaw tenses like he wants to strangle me. I recognize the look and ignore it. After a few long seconds of a staring contest, he lets out a sigh.

“Look, you’re all I got left. You expect me not to worry about my baby sister, then you’re fucking crazy.”

“I’m fine.”

He snorts. “You’re not fine, Tempe. You ain’t been fine in a long while. But I ain’t got time to fix that right now. I gotta go. I got a job. A big one.”

Rafe never speaks to me about work, so for him to bring it up, especially here, means this isn’t just a big job, it’s a big job. A chill works its way up my spine because I know Rafe’s line of work isn’t the kind where you’re guaranteed to make it home safe and sound.

“Where? What?”

He tilts his head to the right. “You know better than to ask that kind of shit.”

“How long? When will you be back?”

He reaches out and flips the end of my hair. “You know I won’t miss your birthday, so before then sometime.”

The uneasiness building inside me subsides a bit. “You’re sure?”

His hand claps around on my shoulder. “Damn sure. But you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Trust your gut. If something seems off, tell Mount. Don’t hesitate. He’ll know what to do.”

A chill snakes down my spine like someone just walked over my grave. Maybe because Rafe has never told me to go to anyone else for help. Ever.

“Rafe . . .”

“It’ll be okay. We’re always okay, aren’t we?” He yanks me in for a hard hug. “Don’t go reminiscing about your wild-child days either. You got an itch to scratch, go out on a date with a banker or a lawyer or something. Stay the fuck away from Haven.”

I squeeze him hard. “Don’t tell me what to do. Just come back safe.”

“Always do.”

He releases me and I watch him walk out of my office, my unease climbing with his every step.

Lord, keep him safe. He’s all I’ve got left.