Mia, dazed, her legs quivering, descended the stairs leading into the pub. Her throat burned from thirst, likely from moaning for at least twenty minutes straight—very loudly. She was still trying to blink her way through the fog of sex when the roar from the main room rose up to meet her. She stepped back to let it sink in, to brush away the memories she now had on loop of her and Kincaid.

Framed tartans ran along the top of the wall. Everything brass or metal shone like someone went over it, lovingly. The wooden tables and booths were some kind of dark wood, broken in, yet not scarred. But it was the people that gave the pub such a good feel. What looked to be the old-timers, argued loudly, gesturing to each other about whatever game played on the TV. The harsh words were balanced with laughter.

She loved Baird’s place and that made it easy to smile when she spotted him manning the counter. Took her a second to realize he’d been watching her. She straightened and made her way over to him.

“You look troubled,” he said.

Troubled wasn’t the right word. She didn't have one yet to describe what happened in the bathroom with Kincaid. “What do you need me to do?”

“He does that.”

“Does he?”

“When he'd rather not answer an obvious question, he changes the subject or growls at me. Are you going to growl at me?”

“Never. I’d just charm you until you forgot about being nosy.” At his laugh, she smiled. “Now what did you need help with?”

“Everything he won’t do.” Douglass lifted his chin, gesturing to the crowd. “Go out there, use your charm, and have them laddies buy drinks.”

The place was packed, and from her vantage point, she could only see one other server on the floor. Slow wait times for simple orders tended to piss people off. She was going to need all her charm, but she said, “That’s easy.”

“Prove it.”

“You’re scary good at knowing exactly what buttons to push.”

He grinned. “Aye.”

Even though she knew the Baird's words were a taunt to her ego, she found the overworked server in the crowd to avoid stepping into claimed territory, thoughtlessly stirring animosity in her wake. They divided the room up with ease, so all that remained was for Mia to jump head first into the crowd. She did, and yet...she lost count at how many times she searched the room for Kincaid during her shift. Too many times, disappointment hit her right in the heart because he hadn't sought her out, pressed against her from behind and whispered something depraved in her ear.

Six p.m. passed in a blur. Nine p.m. flew by. Before she knew it, Baird yelled out, “last call” over the roar of the rowdy conversations fueled by excitement of another rugby win and liquor. Douglass motioned for her to come to the bar, wiping down dishes as they came his way. The man was a machine. She wouldn’t have believed he could move that efficiently, that gracefully, if she weren't seeing it with her own eyes.

“Baird! You had me fooled.”

He snorted. “You're going to have to be more specific.”

“You’re not just a cad.”

“I am. I also work for a living. This pub put my boys through university. Fed them. Clothed them.”

“I thought you had sugar mamas.”

His blue eyes lit. “There is only a fair bit of charm.” The knowing smile he wore made her think it had smoothed plenty of wrinkles in his life. “Go get your laddie. He’s elbow deep in dishes in the back.”

So he'd come down. He just didn't go out of his way to find her. “When did he come down?” she tried to ask in a casual manner.

“When you weren’t looking for him.”

She blushed at being caught. “Won’t you need help with the tables and chairs?”

“That’s why you’re getting your laddie. He’ll grump at me if I ask.”

She dug into her apron for tips. “Do we pool these?”

His eyes widened. “What did you do?”

“Proved myself. The next time I’m in your neck of the woods, you won’t be able to say no to me if I need work.”

“As I told you, you made him smile. You can work for me anytime.”

He gestured for her and her wad of money to go. She followed the obvious trail to the back. Kincaid worked with his back to the door at the washer. Steam filled the room, covering him in sweat and making his shirt cling to every taut inch of muscle.

No more than nine hours ago they had had sex. She’d demanded a kiss after, lingered while her world continued to tilt to the left, realized she might be making an ass of herself mooning over him in the post-coital glow, and had escaped downstairs.

Now there he stood looking like a wet goddamn dream—hers. In retrospect it was stupid to think “fast” would somehow dim his effect on her. All it did was leave her reeling without any time to acclimate to reality again.

And that left—what was she supposed to say to him in the aftermath? What did he want to say in the wake of her disappearance into the pub? Some of her nerves leveled knowing he might be feeling unsure.

“Kincaid, it’s almost closing time and—”

“Baird wants me to help close.” He faced her.

She smiled because he knew the man so well. “In short.”

He punched a button and the washer quieted. “And you? Do you need anything?” His mouth said that while his gaze dropped to the apex of her thighs.

One look and she wanted to toss off her clothes and do fast again. “I don’t know if I should ride home with you, not with the way you’re looking at me.”

One corner of his mouth lifted, and he shrugged. “The way I’m looking at you is why you should go home with me.”

God. How much she wanted what he was silently promising. How much that scared the shit out of her. “The Baird is such a horrible influence on you.”

“I'm starting to think so.”

He moved toward her, barely brushed her as he passed, and she wanted to die a little at the way her every sense came roaring awake. The sterile scent of dish soap was overpowered by the yeast of the beer. And him. She could smell and taste Kincaid at the back of her throat. Her gaze traced the lines of his back, following the lines sticky from the moisture of the room. She wanted to lick him clean. She’d never wanted to do that to anyone.

This whole time Mia had believed she’d known lust, passion. How could she have been so wrong?

Her feet were moving before she could think about it. She wrapped her hand on the hem of his shirt and tugged. Kincaid turned to her and she found his mouth with her own. He groaned, his hands wrapping low on her waist to press her closer. His tongue curled around hers as he sipped her. The kiss was perfect and raw. She ached. She wanted to beg for more.

His hand crept up her dress to cup her left ass cheek as he pulled a hair's breath away. “Mia?”

She shivered at the brush of his lips. “'Caid?”

“Baird is going to come in here to see what’s taking us so long. So let me promise you we’re going to pick this up when I am sure we’ll have no interruptions.”

“We—”

“There’s the B&B down the way. Usually, I’d crash on his couch if I know I have to be here tomorrow. But we can't do what I have in mind on his couch.”

“That’s—”

“You’re going to cuss me if I interrupt you one more time, aren’t you?”

Mia laughed, because she had considered it. “Still debating that.”

He rested his forehead on hers. “Stay with me. For a night. Just us. Not in a home that’s borrowed, and I’m thinking did the husband and wife do this here too?”

She hadn’t thought of that. He squeezed her butt cheek and she laughed again. “I see you have a one-track mind.”

“Your arse was there and calling to me. Consider yourself lucky I’m not fucking you with my fingers, making you forget words exist.”

Did she believe he’d finger fuck her in Baird’s kitchen? Oh, yes, she did. Kincaid was both sweet and kinky. He didn’t apologize for either side of himself. He just was. She was doing her best not to fall in love with him.

He pulled back, his hands dropping to his sides. “You’re getting that wary look again.”

“Stop Sherlocking me.”

“Can't help it. I see and I observe. Am I scaring you again?”

Always. Mia closed her eyes, shut off her brain and let her mouth talk. “Having some fears is not the same as me asking you to...stop.”

“You shouldn’t be scared of what you feel for me. Let whatever between us happen, lass.”

She wished she had his world view. It was so black and white. She could only guess the military had shaped him into this man who believed a man was either brave or a coward. Someone in the SBS didn’t doubt their decisions, because doubt could equal death.

But he made her feel things she’d never imagined were possible outside of the books she’d read. He wasn’t an adventure, but a tale she’d either use to warn or encourage people.

He slapped her butt then gave her a cheeky grin. “You can worry about whatever has given you a furrowed brow on our walk to the B&B. Let’s go help the old man.”

His tone had turned warm. She couldn’t fight the smile. “You complain about the Baird, but I think you love him.”

“I do not.”

“Okay, Kincaid.”

He frowned at her. “I like him.”

She put up her hands to stop his defense. “I wasn’t pushing the point.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. After another second, he pushed through the doors, leaving her alone.

That was...interesting and unsettling. What else was an unforeseen landmine between them? Why was now the first time she considered that? She should have answered those questions before asking for fast.

A stupid mistake, if there ever was one. One she wouldn't make again, not with Kincaid. Her heart was on the line, and that was the one thing she couldn't let him have.