I’m early for this meeting with Robin, and for good reason.

I want answers.

Not that I deserve any, all things considered, but hell, her song is still echoing around in my head. I broke Danielle’s heart. Okay, I’m an ass for having been such a childish prick by leaving without saying goodbye. But there has to be more to this story. Something about Robin being so intent on ensuring I keep my distance from her sister has me on edge. I’m sure that her family is hiding something from me.

All day today at work, I was tempted to clear an hour of my schedule to find out first-hand from Danielle herself. I don’t know where she lives, but it’s easy enough to stop by her parents’ place and ask for their daughter’s address. Still, something tells me I should get some intel from Robin before I show up on that doorstep.

Mr. Sparrow is a damn good shot.

Robin sends me a text on my phone to let me know that she has some time after her day job, and can meet me at Whiskey Jacks before she performs. I reply that I’ll be there. Perfect. No need to risk life and limb with a confrontation with Mr. Sparrow. The wait won’t be too long.

I debate whether to tell her that my buddies and I happen to spend a lot of our free evenings at that very saloon, but decide against mentioning anything. We’re both adults, and my guess is she already dished out the worst of her fury last night with that song. As upset as she was before, during and after that song, Robin doesn’t strike me as the catty type. I spend the rest of the day in scheduled meetings and taking care of a few priority client emails. After the bulk of my to-do list is finished, I leave the office in one of the Cadillac Escalades in the company fleet.

I don’t quite step down from my SUV in the parking lot when the sound of a woman’s high heels approaches, clicking on the concrete. There’s no surprise on my face as I make out Lou-Ann, one of the regulars here at the saloon. Lou-Ann is just another one of the one-night stands I’ve had, and a pretty solid reminder that I should never pick up chicks where I like to kick back—especially because one night isn’t usually enough for most of them. Not that I can blame them. I’m fit, sexy, handsome, and irresistible as hell.

“Hi Reid,” she purrs, stepping up to me. I check her out as we stand between my SUV and a pickup truck in the next parking spot, just to give myself some insight as to why I slept with her that first and only time. Long dark hair. Cute face. Pretty smile. Average-sized breasts. Curvy all over. Scantily dressed.

Yup.

She’s pretty much my usual M.O. for hookups.

“Howdy Lou-Ann,” I say.

“You know, I never got a chance to get your phone number that night,” she informs me.

“True.” There’s a reason I didn’t give her my number that night. The one-night stand does not require a second night, so collecting the phone numbers of women I don’t intend to sleep with again is counterproductive.

Lou-Ann runs a hand down my arm. “It would be nice to hang out again, if you’re ever up for some company.”

It takes real effort for me to give her a half-smile. My mind is elsewhere. I’m not here for entertainment, or beer, or good music, or the company of my friends. I’m here to get some answers.

“My schedule is booked up for the next little while, Lou-Ann. I’m sorry.”

“If I give you my number, will you call?”

I press my lips together tightly, mentally crafting a polite way to turn her down. In all likelihood, I won’t be in touch. Because I need to wrap up this little chat, I throw her a bone. Taking out my phone, I pass it over to her anyway. “No promises, okay? Put your number in here and we’ll see.”

Lou-Ann is overjoyed and gleeful as she adds her number to my contact list. “Make sure you call me,” she says, closing the distance between us. She runs her hands up my chest and laces her fingers around my neck. “Promise?”

The ability to interpret body language and read between the lines do not appear to be in Lou-Ann’s wheelhouse. Frankly, given her level of attachment, I’m not willing to mince words anymore. I pull her hands away from my neck and take a step back. “Sorry, doll. I said no promises, remember?”

She pouts at the gruffness of my words. “I thought you had a good time with me,” she whines.

“I did.” That’s the truth. But having one night of fun is not reason enough for me to want another. Second dates are not in my wheelhouse. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting inside.”

Lou-Ann makes another concerted attempt to change my mind by pressing her body up next to mine. She opens her mouth to say something more, and I decide enough is enough. Taking a solid grip on her shoulders, I move her one step away and slide past her. I give her a wave over my shoulder and keep walking to the front entrance of the saloon, where Robin is standing with her arms folded again, giving me the stink eye.

Probably because she saw the whole thing.