CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THINGS HADN’T GONE quite as he’d planned. No one had played their part correctly, most especially not Avery. She was different now, more outspoken, more confident and independent.
Being on her own for a year hadn’t weakened her. No, it had given her inner strength.
He grinned. That wouldn’t last, though. Next time he got everyone together—everyone but Sonya, because really, when it came to his plans, she’d been more a hindrance than a help—he’d make sure all the pieces fell into place. And then Avery wouldn’t be so high-and-mighty.
He could hardly wait.
* * *
ROWDY AGAIN SAT on the floor, spending precious minutes greeting the dog while Marcus stood back, watching in apprehension. Alice, bless her, went straight for the kitchen and more cookies and juice. Maybe this would be their routine, makeshift picnics in the apartment with him working hard to put Marcus at ease.
“I got that red car,” Rowdy said as he produced the small vehicle and another length of track. “What do you say we hook them up?”
Hanging back, Marcus glanced toward the kitchen where Alice hummed while getting their snack. When he looked back at Rowdy, he chewed his lip, then asked, “Are you mad?”
Damn. Had the kid picked up on his mood? He thought he’d covered up pretty good, but he knew all about survival, how you had to learn to judge those things, even at a very young age.
Rowdy had already decided that he would never lie to Marcus, no matter what. So he said, “At you, no.”
Rubbing a forearm under his nose, Marcus shifted nervously.
Rowdy found himself expounding, trying to put the kid at ease. “It’s nothing, really. Just a disagreement with a...friend.” God, Avery was so much more than that. Or at least, he’d thought so. Now he just didn’t know.
“Who made ya mad?” Marcus asked.
It struck him that Marcus feared his bad mood would spill over onto him. Probably in the past, with his asshole parents, he’d caught the brunt of everything bad that happened.
His mood soured more, but Rowdy finally got Cash to settle down. He stroked the dog’s back. “You know, Marcus, mostly I’m disappointed, I guess.” He cupped Cash’s furry face, rubbed his long ears. Dumb as it sounded, he said, “I got my feelings hurt about something, and I’m gloomy about it. But I think playing cars will make me feel better. So do you want to?”
Alice walked in with a tray. The big faker didn’t fool him one bit. She’d heard everything, even though she pretended she hadn’t.
“Let’s eat!” She sat yoga style on the floor, perpendicular to Rowdy so that Marcus could sit across from him, then set out cups of juice and cookies on napkins. “The cookies are fresh from this morning. Marcus helped me make them.”
“No kidding?” Rowdy took a big bite and groaned. “Man, that’s good.”
Now, with Alice close, Marcus inched over and seated himself. His bony knee hit the cup of juice and it spilled, sending a puddle spreading out.
Marcus froze, his face going pale, his eyes wide.
Alice said, “Oops!” and scooted so the juice wouldn’t soak into her slacks. “Good thing I brought napkins.”
Rowdy leaned forward. “Marcus?”
Mouth pinched, shoulders hunched, the boy looked down at the floor.
Rowdy wanted to pull him into his lap, to cuddle him as he’d cuddled Cash, to swear to him that nothing bad would ever again happen to him, because he wouldn’t let it. But he knew better than to try that. “It’s just juice, buddy. I’m forever spilling something, and it’s not a big deal. It wipes up.”
“Already done,” Alice said, making a point of not really looking at either of them. “No harm done.” She stood. “I’ll refill your glass, honey.”
Marcus still didn’t look up. Rowdy heard him swallow.
Fuck it. “You know what I’d like to do, Marcus? I’d like to hug you and tell you not to worry about it. But I know you need time to believe that it’s fine. It hurts my heart, man, really bad. Right here...” He put a hand over his chest. “To know you’re worried about it, so please don’t be.”
In a small voice, Marcus said, “You can keep the car.”
God, he would slay dragons for this kid if he could. But all he could do was sit here with a cheap-ass toy and reassurances that didn’t mean shit. “I want you to have it. I want us to be friends and to play together, and I don’t want either one of us to worry about anything bad happening.” Rowdy held out the car. “Please, will you take it?”
Looking miserably confused, Marcus accepted the car, more because he was afraid not to, Rowdy thought, than because of any trust.
Jesus, this entire day had been a bitch. He rubbed the back of his neck and forced a smile. “Thank you.” Very, very gently he reached out to cup a hand over Marcus’s head. He said again, “Thank you, Marcus. I appreciate it.”
Again, the kid held perfectly still until Rowdy removed his hand.
Alice came in with more juice and a roll of paper towels. “I brought these out in case we have any more accidents. Heaven knows I’m as likely as you are, Marcus, to bump something over.” She sat down and leaned near to him. “When Cash was getting house-trained, I had to carry paper towels with me everywhere. I don’t think there’s a single spot in this apartment that hasn’t been sprinkled.” She grinned as if it amused her to have a dog leaking everywhere.
Marcus watched her with fascination—much as Rowdy had often done.
They ate all the cookies and drank all the juice. Marcus finally loosened up enough that they connected the tracks. Rowdy gave Alice a purple car—a little convertible with a hood that opened. Marcus had his red and green cars. Rowdy had a white truck.
They played for a half an hour until Alice said, “I hate to break up this fun party, but Rowdy needs to be getting to work.”
Rowdy groaned. “I wish I could stay and eat more delicious cookies. You’re both good cooks.”
Marcus grinned, and it so stunned Rowdy that he nearly lost it. Damn, but his eyes burned. “I had fun, Marcus.”
“Me, too.”
“So what color car should I get next?”
Given the way Marcus hesitated, how he chewed his lip and rubbed that forearm under his nose again, he didn’t trust the offer.
“Any color you want,” Rowdy promised. “How about a black sports car? Or maybe a purple convertible like Alice’s.”
“My car is very sweet,” Alice said, and she took it on another spin along the two lengths of track.
Finally, peeking up at Rowdy with gut-wrenching hope, Marcus said, “Your white truck is neat.”
Optimism sent his blood pumping. “Awesome, little dude. We have the same great taste!” Rowdy lifted the truck. “I’ll pick up another one for you, but until then, how about you hold on to mine for me?” To ensure Marcus couldn’t refuse, Rowdy set it on the floor and rolled it toward Marcus, then came to his feet.
As usual, he took a minute to say goodbye to Cash, then, cautiously, he went to Marcus. “I’ll be back, okay?”
Marcus looked at his feet, but he nodded.
Rowdy knelt down. “I had fun. Thank you.”
“You’re not mad anymore?”
“I was never that mad, remember? But even if something did happen to make me mad, even if it made me furious, it wouldn’t make me mean. Not like you’re thinking. Never to you. Okay?”
“So you’re not mad anymore?”
Aware of Alice standing there, Rowdy laughed at himself. He ruffled Marcus’s hair, and he didn’t even care that Marcus went typically still. “No, I’m not mad anymore.” He stretched back to his full height.
Putting her arms around his neck, Alice went on tiptoe to hug him. She said low, “Please don’t do anything dumb, Rowdy.”
What the hell? He caught her shoulders to pry her away. “No, I won’t.”
“Baloney.” She turned him loose, then put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Something happened between you and Avery, but she’s a very nice woman.” She said in an aside to Marcus, “Avery is his girlfriend.”
Boyfriend, girlfriend, where did people get off using those namby-pamby terms for good old sizzling lust?
“And,” she said to Rowdy again, “whether you admit it to yourself or not, you care about her. I see it. I know it. So I say again, please don’t do anything dumb. I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“Yes, dear.” He kissed her forehead, and then, without really giving it much thought, bent and put a kiss to the top of Marcus’s head, too. With Cash thumping his tail, he laughed and kissed him, too—and that made Marcus chuckle.
Eventually, Rowdy thought, Marcus would recover.
But if that was true, why hadn’t he?
* * *
AVERY WASN’T SURPRISED when Rowdy started the workday by ignoring her. As her boss, she figured eventually he’d have to talk to her, and then she’d have an opportunity to break the ice.
But as the day wore on, he managed to avoid her altogether. He delegated many of his usual responsibilities, including filling in for her, to Cannon. Not even once did he approach her himself.
To make things worse, he flirted. Boldly.
When one blonde came to talk to him, standing far too close, Rowdy stared at her boobs until she was giggling.
When later a brunette asked him to dance, he actually took a few minutes to hold her on the dance floor, swaying in time to a slow song, pelvises aligned.
That had every other lady lined up for a turn. But Rowdy laughed it off and got back to work.
The jerk.
Avery was stewing, both furious and jealous, when a familiar redhead came in.
The memory of Rowdy in his office with that woman, what she’d witnessed them doing, sucked all the air out of her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.
A customer said, “Another beer, honey,” but Avery ignored him.
The woman went up to Rowdy, hugging him from behind, slipping one hand into the neckline of his shirt, the other far too close to the fly of his jeans. He looked startled, wincing in discomfort at how tightly she grabbed him.
But when he turned and saw it was her, he didn’t excuse himself.
He looked up and met Avery’s gaze.
It felt like an eternity that they stared at each other until finally Rowdy pulled his gaze away to address the woman.
“Hey, another beer.”
Almost by rote, Avery filled the chilled glass, but as Rowdy smiled at the woman, she couldn’t seem to do anything but stare.
The jealousy was so red-hot, Avery couldn’t even breathe.
Cannon nudged her. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Him being Rowdy, I take it? I mean, that’s the guy you’re killing with that laser-like glare, right?”
She gave one sharp nod.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you take a break?” Cannon pried her hand off the beer mug and handed it over to the disgruntled customer. “I’ll take care of things here.”
“No.”
Cannon gave an exaggerated sigh and a pitying shake of his head. “You’re only showing him how much it bothers you. While I don’t know you well, I sort of took you for the type with a lot of pride.”
Yes, where was her pride? She needed to find it and fast. It took a lot of inner struggling, but Avery finally got her gaze off Rowdy and the other woman. She put a hand to her forehead and concentrated on collecting her wild emotions.
“Hey.” Cannon tipped up her chin. “I think Rowdy’s fighting his own demons tonight. Don’t take any of that shit too seriously, okay?”
“So you don’t want me to kill him?”
His fingers still under her chin, Cannon grinned. “I get the feeling he’s already suffering, you know?”
Yes, she did know. But if he went off with that woman...
Out of nowhere, Rowdy shoved between them. “Avery, take your break. Cannon, you can go help Jones finish up in the kitchen.”
More amused than ever, Cannon said, “Sure thing, boss.” And off he went.
Rowdy didn’t look at her, but his presence was so big that all he had to do was get near to make her aware of him in every pore. She wanted to ask him if his back was okay. She wanted to hug him, and she wanted to smack him.
Avery searched the room and found the redhead seated at a table. So she was still out there...waiting on Rowdy?
Over her dead body.
“Go on,” he said.
Instead of leaving for her break, she glared at Rowdy. “What is she doing here?”
“It’s a free country, Ave. She can go wherever she wants.”
Ave again. Lowering her voice, she demanded, “Are you taking her to your office?”
“Why? You want to watch again?”
That low blow actually took her back a step. Lips parted, breathing shallow, she wondered how quickly she could get out of there.
Except, this time, she didn’t want to run. This wasn’t like with Fisher. This hurt so much more.
Rowdy glanced at her, then cursed low. “No.”
She didn’t understand.
He reached around her for a glass. When she didn’t move, he paused, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Time stretched out while he stared into her eyes. He leaned in, his voice like broken glass. “No, I’m not taking her to my office. I don’t want to fuck her. I don’t even want to touch her.”
He sounded furious...at himself.
Tension ebbed away, leaving her wilted. “Okay.” The wild thumping of her heart calmed. The invisible fist squeezing her throat eased up. She almost said thank you, but that’d be too absurd.
She touched his arm, stroking over his thick wrist once, then she darted away. They needed to talk, but she had to regroup first. If she tried it now, she’d end up making declarations that Rowdy didn’t want to hear, and that would make matters worse.
She was in the break room swilling coffee when the storm started. Rain came down in earnest, sending sheets of rain against the windows. The lights flickered and thunder rattled the floor beneath her feet.
Wow. She finished up her break and went back to the floor. Some of the guests stood near the windows looking out. Overall, the storm chased people away—including the redhead, blonde and brunette! With the low crowd, the rest of the night was easy, but as dismal and tumultuous as her thoughts.
The lights flickered a few more times but stayed on. Rowdy had flashlights near the bar, and of course emergency lights were installed. Still, Avery was very glad to call it a night.
When the last customer was gone and Rowdy had locked up, she knew she had to confront him. It was now or never.
Coat on, nervousness chewing her up inside, Avery found him in his office. Ridiculously formal, she tapped on the door before stepping in.
Because he stood off to the side, she didn’t realize that Cannon was there, too, until she entered.
Rowdy glanced at her as he pulled on his own jacket. “Do me a favor, Cannon, and see her out to her car, okay?”
Avery froze.
Looking uneasy, Cannon pulled on his knit hat and shrugged. “Sure, I can do that.”
Get a backbone, Avery. She stepped forward. “Rowdy...”
He tossed the keys to Cannon. “Lock up on your way out.”
Avery couldn’t believe it when he went right past her and out the back door. She stood there, staring at the door, willing Rowdy to change his mind, to come back in and apologize. To say they needed to talk.
Even to argue with her.
He didn’t.
Slowly, she turned to Cannon.
He looked down at the floor, then up at the ceiling. He cleared his throat. Twice. “You ready to go, honey?”
A refreshing surge of anger boiled through her. For such a long time now, Rowdy had chased her hot and heavy. He claimed to want her. Bad. But now, over a big misunderstanding, he intended to just blow her off?
Hell, no.
She did not easily get in bed with men. After Fisher, well, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever again trust a man enough to want him. But she wanted Rowdy, and by God, she would have him.
Tonight—as he had promised.
“I’m ready all right. You can bet I’m ready. More than ready.” She went to the back door, slammed it and closed all the locks. “Let’s go.”
Cannon rubbed his mouth. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
“No, we’re not.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the front of the bar with her. “Come on. If I wait, I might lose my nerve, but I want to do this.”
“This?”
She nodded. “I’ve been celibate too damn long. I need to do this.”
“Uh, Avery...” He bumped into a chair, stepped around it and tried to free his arm.
She held on. With what she had planned, she needed to steal some of his strength. “I have to go out through the front.”
“Maybe we should talk a little.”
“Not now.”
“You know, Rowdy won’t be happy about this. I mean, I just got hired on and he doesn’t strike me as the type to share, so...”
Realizing what he thought, Avery cast him a look. “Get real, Cannon. You know I’m hung up on Rowdy.”
He wasn’t at all discomforted by the conversation. “I figured, yeah. But generally speaking, if a woman starts locking doors and leading me off, it’s to—”
“Not this time.” She wanted Rowdy Yates. Period. And one way or another, she’d have him.
Cannon grinned. “Know what? I’m equally bummed and relieved.”
If that was his idea of flirting, he’d wasted it on her. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“I’d be tempted...” When she frowned up at him, his smile warmed. “But no, I wouldn’t.”
She shook her head and unlocked the front door. The rain pounded down, washing over the street, bending the few straggly trees that disrupted the brick and concrete landscape.
Cannon stepped just outside the door. “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella?”
“No.” She stared at Rowdy’s apartment and saw the lights come on. If she stared hard enough, she could see a few shadows moving past his big front windows.
“Want me to bring your car up here to you, then?” Even from where he stood under the overhang, he got soaked. Wind blew in from every angle.
“I don’t need my car.”
“No?”
“I’m going to Rowdy’s apartment.”
“But not by car?”
“It’s across the street.” She pointed. “Right there.” So close...but given how Rowdy had all but looked through her, it felt very far away.
Cannon followed her gaze and nodded. “Ah. Makes sense, I guess.”
“What does that mean?”
As he locked up, securing the bar, he said, “I’ve seen him go in the building. I thought maybe...never mind.”
“That he had a woman there? Given his proclivity for sleeping around, it’s a logical assumption.” Accepting the keys from him, Avery dropped them in her pocket, then turned up her collar. A useless effort that she knew wouldn’t do her a bit of good.
Cannon eyed her, then started to take off his coat. “Why don’t you put this over your head so—”
She held up a hand to forestall him. “I won’t melt.” As she said it, the rain lightened up a little, providing a small break in the storm.
“Now or never.”
Taking her arm and standing close, Cannon said, “You might want to keep in mind that Rowdy was fighting himself more than you today.”
“You think?”
“I’d bet on it.”
Avery stared at him in amazement. “Wow, so you not only know everything about running a bar, but you’re a trained fighter and a relationship expert, too?”
He gave her a philosophical look. “I’m a guy, so I know how guys think. That’s as expert as it gets.”
“Are you in a serious relationship?”
He did a double take over that question. “As you just said, I have a full plate. No real time for a relationship.”
But Avery would bet he didn’t skimp on female company. Men. In so many ways, they were all alike. Luckily, when it came to being considerate, hardworking and protective, Cannon and Rowdy had a lot of similarities.
“Thank you, Cannon, for everything.” She marched out from under the covering of the overhang.
Cannon kept pace with her.
“You can go on home.” Her feet splashed through puddles in the road.
“I’ll make sure you get in first.”
Yup, very protective. The area looked so damned dark, she could only be grateful for his vigilance. “All right, thanks.”
Though the rain had slowed, they were both drenched in the short time it took them to reach the front door to the building. Avery drew a deep breath, opened the door and turned to Cannon. “Now, if only Rowdy lets me in...” The wind whipped up again, throwing her jacket open.
He glanced down at her chest, then away. “He’ll let you in. Trust me.” He took the door from her to keep the wind from ripping it away. “Go on, then.”
Avery glanced down at her chest, too. Oops. The rain had penetrated her jacket and her shirt. It clung to her skin, outlining...everything. Added to that, her jeans were soaked to midthigh, her hair sodden.
Slowly she smiled. Being drenched just might work to her advantage. “Wish me luck, okay?”
“I think Rowdy’s the one that needs it, but sure, good luck to you.” He flicked the end of her nose. “Go easy on him.”
With a little more confidence, Avery turned and trotted up the steps. Her heart beat wildly—with worry, with hope, but mostly with anticipation.
Tonight she would have Rowdy Yates. At the moment, nothing else mattered.
* * *
BRISTLING WITH IRRITATION, Rowdy peeled off his damp clothes and changed into dry jeans. He couldn’t look at the bed. When he did, he saw Avery there, that beautiful red hair of hers spread out around her face, the way she smiled and how she teased, her delicate aroma and how comforting it had been to hold her while they slept.
No matter that his mind had decided he wouldn’t touch her, his body still craved sexual satisfaction.
But only with Avery. Right now, no other woman would do.
Hell, he’d had so many offers tonight, one of them from two women looking for a three way, that he could easily have spent the night working off tension the good old-fashioned way.
Instead, he planned to read. Since buying the bar, he’d studied up on small enterprise solutions. He didn’t have much in the way of an education, but he had enough street smarts to know it required knowledge as well as hard work to make a business survive.
And above all else, he was a survivor.
Barefoot, he went into the kitchen and opened a beer, then found the book on the shelf. Whenever he did a lot of reading, he needed glasses. Nothing prescription, just readers he’d bought at the drugstore. Carrying the beer, the book and the reading glasses, he went to his couch and dropped down.
Leaning back didn’t hurt that much, not with the thick bandages in place. They needed to be changed, but he couldn’t do it himself. Tomorrow he’d get Pepper to take the wrappings off, and he’d leave them off.
He took a big drink of the beer, opened his book and...thought of Avery. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t keep her out of his head.
Or his heart.
He’d left her with Cannon.
Demons chased around his brain, making him imagine all sorts of scenarios guaranteed to keep him awake through the long night.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and willed himself not to care.
Impossible.
When the knock sounded on his door, he lifted his head, a scowl already in place. The last thing he wanted to deal with was another pushy woman. The neighbors were nice enough, but they watched for him to come in, and then they found a reason to pester him.
He wasn’t in the mood to be gracious tonight.
Shoving the glasses to the top of his head and setting his book aside, Rowdy left the couch, went up the few short steps and opened the door.
Like a sucker punch to the gut, the sight of Avery standing there, soaked to the skin, shivering, that stubborn chin of hers lifted, sucked his breath away.
“Can I come in?”
His gaze tracked over her, from the long sodden ropes of her hair, to her open jacket and the way her shirt clung to her breasts, to her dripping jeans. Already a puddle had formed around her.
He braced himself against her impact. “You should have gone home.”
She lifted her chin another inch. “You promised me sex.”
Jesus, he hadn’t expected that, hadn’t thought she’d be this brazen, this bold and...sexy. He breathed a little harder, and felt his dick stir.
Avery stepped in. “I’m here to collect.”
What the hell did she think? That she could manipulate him with sex? Backing up from her, he said, “No.” Then he turned his back and went down the steps, putting some distance between himself and temptation.
Going to his couch, he sat down and, pretending he wasn’t coiled tight and on the verge of asking her to stay, he put his glasses back on and picked up his book.
As the seconds passed, he pretended to read and Avery held silent. He wouldn’t look at her again.
“I’m freezing, Rowdy.”
He heard the chattering of her teeth, and he clenched his muscles to fight the compelling need to comfort her. He glanced at her over the glasses but said nothing.
“My jeans are completely soaked.”
He didn’t mean to, but he said, “Take them off.” Then his heart started jumping, and he breathed deeper, waiting to see what she’d do.
It felt like a lifetime that they stared at each other before Avery turned, closed the door and locked it.