I’m pretty sure what just happened was a bad idea.

Great. Add it to the list.

It didn’t feel like one, though. God help me, but kissing Cas Watkins just now felt… well, it felt amazing. More than amazing. It felt like coming home.

I take a few more minutes outside after Cas and Angel go back in, to try to get my head on straight. But every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s buzzing with the memory of his body and the electricity of Cas’s touch. The ache between my legs has graduated to a throb, and I almost moan out loud in frustration and need. God only knows what would have happened between us if Angel hadn’t come out just now.

No, that’s a lie. I know exactly what would have happened.

And I wanted it to happen. Hell, I still want it to happen. I feel like I’m sliding down the side of a steep hill, careening toward the inevitable. The problem is, I don’t know if I should put out my hands and try to stop myself, or just let it happen. Because either way, I’m pretty sure the end result is gonna be the same.

I pace back and forth in the parking lot for a few minutes, which doesn’t seem to calm me much but at least gives me something to do. Finally, I blow out a deep breath of frustration, then head back into the clubhouse, before someone comes out here looking for me.

When I get inside, I see that the tables and chairs that were overturned when Cas punched Sarge have been put to rights. Off in one corner, Noah has fallen asleep in Jewel’s lap. She’s quietly reading a worn-looking paperback, silently turning the pages as his little chest rises and falls.

“Are you okay?” I mouth at her, feeling a twinge of guilt, but she just smiles and nods.

Then, when I walk back to the bar, I find that my tip jar has been stuffed full of bills.

I almost cry with relief and happiness at the unexpected sight. I look around in astonishment, to see who did this, but then I remember all the club members are in a meeting now. “Church,” Angel called it for some reason. So, I make a promise to myself to find out who’s responsible and thank them for it later.

I empty the jar on the counter and start to count out the bills. Wow. There’s enough here that with luck and a couple more shifts, I’ll be able to make rent before Charlie Hurt kicks me out on the street. There might even be enough left for a grocery run so I’m not stuck making Noah peanut butter sandwiches for the rest of the week.

But even with such happy thoughts to occupy me, I still can’t get Cas out of my mind. It’s almost like he’s right next to me as I pocket the money. When I start washing glasses and wiping down the bar, I can still feel the rough scratch of his dark beard against my skin. I can see the patches of red that show when the sunlight hits it, and the deep brown of his eyes as they sought mine just before he kissed me. I can smell the masculine scent of him, all smoke and leather and the open road.

God, I want him. I sure as hell wish I didn’t, but I do.

As the minutes tick by in the quiet bar, I start to get nervous at the thought of the meeting ending and having to face Cas again. Eventually, the heavy doors of the room they call the chapel finally open, and the men begin spilling out. I force myself not to look over and watch for him to exit with the others. Instead, I busy myself wiping the bar counter down, even though I just did that five minutes ago, and pretend I couldn’t care less.

“Jenna, set us up with some shots,” calls a man whose name I think is Brick. I do as he asks, pulling out a bottle of the whiskey these men seem to prefer and taking out some glasses. I’m thankful for the distraction, and don’t even notice at first that Cas has come up to the bar and taken a seat at the other end.

“What can I get you?” I ask him casually when I walk over. My voice shakes just a little bit, but I’m hoping he doesn’t notice.

“I’d take a replay of about an hour ago,” he murmurs, his voice thick. And just like that, heat pools between my legs again, the throb returning. I don’t know what to say to that, at all.

“You’re pretty easy to please if you’d be satisfied with dry humping against a wall,” I finally manage to toss off. I’m trying for bravado, but I don’t really think I succeed.

“Oh, I’m not fucking satisfied. Not anywhere near.” He chuckles low in his throat, and the sound is so dangerously sexy I’m instantly wet.

I don’t say anything in return. Because I’m afraid that if I open my mouth, what will come out is, Please please please fuck me. So, I swallow once, painfully, and concentrate on the glass I’m drying like it’s the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.

“How late we got you working tonight? What do you say we continue this conversation somewhere more private?” His voice is molten lava against my skin.

My nipples harden to pebbles as I imagine how it will feel when he slides his hands over my breasts. I suppress a shiver and feel my breath grow shallow.

Then I remember Noah.

“I don’t have a sitter,” I say slowly, trying to hide the deep disappointment I’m feeling.

Cas looks back toward the couch. “Just a second,” he murmurs. Then, as I watch, he wanders over and has a brief conversation with Jewel. “Jewel’s gonna take him,” he tells me when he comes back. “Matter of fact, she says she’ll be more than willing to babysit him whenever you need, since she can’t tend bar.”

I look over at Jewel, a question in my eyes, and she smiles and nods at me. Well, I guess my child care dilemma has been solved.

“I guess you’ve taken care of everything,” I say slowly to Cas, my heart starting to pound in my chest.

His face widens into the maddeningly sexy grin I know only too well. “That’s what I do. I take care of things.” His eyes bore into mine. “And about three minutes after we leave this clubhouse, I’m going to take care of you.”