Chapter Six

Rowe

I’m not sure what came over me. Okay, that’s a lie. A certain dark-haired woman has been ruling my mind. After I got off work, I drove right to her place. I remembered where she lived, even though I left there in haste last night. Now, as we sit here in the diner, I’m so fucking glad I drove back to her apartment.

What made me drive us here? I’m not sure. Did I subconsciously want everyone in town to see me with a woman? This isn’t the norm for me. And she doesn’t fit in with my small town at all. The women here are all girl next door, no tattoos, no piercings, no cleavage showing women. Me? I need more. Not that there’s anything wrong with them, but it’s not what I find sexy. I like mystery and allure. I like a woman who challenges me and keeps me guessing. I love body art. I just described Ashlyn. Shit. I’m so done for. Every minute I spend with her, I get drawn deeper and deeper under her spell.

After dinner is over and we are waiting for the check, she asks, “Do you want to go back to the city and get a drink? I could use one.”

Leaning back in the booth with my arms stretched out on either side, I reply, “Why go to the city when we have a bar right next door?”

“Say what?”

I point out the window next to me. She leans over to look outside. The bar’s windows, with the beer logos in neon lights glowing, are easy to spot with the darkening sky. It’s a local joint. No huge crowds, but there are plenty of rowdy hometown boys in there, living it up every night.

“Can we go back to the city?”

“What’s the rush, darlin’? The night’s young.” She rolls her eyes and I laugh. I love that it bothers her when I call her that.

“Fine, whatever. You win. We’ll go to your bar.”

“It’s not my bar, but I do know the guy who owns it.”

“Of course you do.”

“Small town.” I shrug.

And in this small town there are some huge homes with very rich men living in them. Namely, the ones who called my department about being stolen from. While the townspeople are tight, and I call it a small town, the area it covers is rather large since some of the homes have a lot of property and can go on for acres.

I pay our check and ignore the look I’m getting from my friend’s sister. I don’t want to deal with her, and it’s better to ignore her attitude than acknowledge her. I’ve learned that when I smile and am overly kind, it only feeds her crush on me.

We don’t bother getting in my car to go to the bar. It’s a short walk next door, and no one will bother my Dodge where it’s sitting. We reach the door of the bar and I hold it open for Ashlyn. She takes one step inside and freezes as her eyes look over the place. It’s not large at all, but has a decent bar and a few pool tables in the back. There are a handful of small dining tables, as well, for those who want to sit down to drink and eat their bar food in a more intimate setting.

I have to nudge her forward so I can get inside. Her movements are stiff as I direct us to a table. There’s a bunch of guys at the bar, and I’m not sure if she’s going to want to sit there and be hit on all night. As a matter of fact, I don’t want her there, because if I have to watch her get hit on, I’m not going to like it. Just the looks the guys are giving her as we walk in have me wanting to go over to set them straight. This woman is mine for the night, and if they keep leering at her, we’re going to have issues.

Do I want her to be mine longer than tonight? It’s not a bad idea, but I can’t help wondering if I could do the commitment thing. Also, could she? Would she even want to?

I sit and lean back, stretching my arm out behind her chair. Curling my fingers around the wooden spindles of the back, I pull her chair closer to mine. Keep fucking looking, guys. I level them with a hard stare before they swivel back around on their barstools.

Glancing over at Ashlyn, I find her eyeing me, and not in a good way. She shoves her chair away from mine, breaking the contact of my hand with the back of it. Actually, she pushes it a good foot from where it was before. Then crosses her arms and legs before giving me a look that says, ‘I know what you’re doing, and I don’t think so.’ My lips quirk up on one side, loving that I’m getting her riled up.

“Was that really necessary?” she asks.

I lean forward, trying hard as hell to stifle my smile. I love her feistiness. “You see those boys at the bar?” I ask, nodding toward them.

She doesn’t take her eyes off of me. “Yeah. And?”

“They were all looking at you when we came in.”

“Yeah. And?”

“I don’t want them to.”

“Since when do you have a say over anything that has to do with me?”

I give her a cocky smile. “Since you’re here in my town with me.”

“I don’t think so.”

She leans forward to the point our faces are close enough that I can feel her breath as it floats against my lips. Then she kisses me. Our tongues meet, the kiss quickly becomes heated, and it takes everything in me not to strip her bare and fuck her on the table. She pulls back and I’m left leaning forward with my mouth still open like a moron.

She smirks. “I’m my own woman. Not you, nor anyone else owns me, will claim me, or will act like some fucking Neanderthal where I’m concerned. Got it?”

I sit back in my chair and rest my arm on the table. “Oh, I hear you, darlin’, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to tell me what to do. I behave like I want, and this is who I am. I’m not sorry about it. No way will another guy look you over like he wants to fuck you when I’m around.”

She stands abruptly and walks to the bar. I’m on my feet but don’t move yet. I want to see what she’s going to do. With her elbows resting on the bar top, she bends slightly, sticking her ass out for full effect. Her jeans hug her curves; her legs shift, making that gorgeous behind move. I bite back a groan.

The guy she’s standing next to swivels so he’s facing her. “Well, hello there, beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?”

“You certainly can,” she replies. The bartender comes over and she orders a shot of whiskey. She swallows it down and smiles at the guy. “Thank you.”

“Do you want another?” he asks hesitantly.

“Only if you’re buying,” she winks.

Another shot poured and drank. I know what she’s doing, and it’s fucking working. The guy she’s talking to is Hank, and he’s about as harmless as they come. Of all the guys in the bar, he’s probably the only one I don’t have to worry about. Then again, I don’t want him getting his hopes up that this woman wants anything to do with him. He’s not her type. She likes a badass, and good ole’ Hank wouldn’t hurt a fly.

When the third shot gets ordered, I decide to intervene. I don’t want him blowing his paycheck buying her drinks all night. Walking to the bar, I don’t stop until I’m standing behind her, her back pressed against my chest. I look over her shoulder and smile at Hank. “How’re things?” I ask him.

“Good. Looking up.” His eyes land right on Ashlyn’s breasts. They are completely covered by the thin white t-shirt she’s wearing, but damn they are still on display, straining against the material.

She thrusts her ass into my groin. “Did you need something, Rowe?” she asks, without bothering to look back at me.

My hands land on her hips as my lips brush the shell of her ear. “Get back to the table before I make you.”

She scoffs. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know what I would or wouldn’t do.” Then I turn to Hank and speak louder. “What do you think, Hank? Think I’d pick up this lovely woman and throw her over my shoulder just to prove a point?”

“Absolutely,” he responds. “Rowe doesn’t bullshit. If he says it, he’ll do it.”

She spins to face me, one hand resting on the bar. “Well, I’m calling your bluff, darlin’.” Her emphasis on the last word heats my veins with desire and makes me want to smack her ass at the same time. So disobedient.

Quickly, I bend down and throw her over my shoulder. One of my arms holds her legs down while my free hand swats her ass.

“You asshole!” she screeches.

“I don’t play. Now you know.”

She’s trying to kick me but not succeeding. Her fists thump against my back as I take long strides to our table. At the last minute, I decide to go past our seats to the pool tables. Luckily, one of them is empty. I drop her ass right on the table. Balls scatter as she flails before righting herself.

Her eyes blaze with fury. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Yup. Now stay here.” I point at her. Then I walk back to the bar and grab four more shots of whiskey. I don’t want to drink much, but apparently, she wants to prove a point. Fine. So be it. I won’t let her get plastered, but she’ll have a hell of a buzz by the time we leave here.

I’m surprised to see she hasn’t left the pool table. Her eyes are on me as I walk back. I place two shots down on the wooden ledge of the table and tip one of the remaining two down my throat. She swallows both shots, one after the other, and slams them down on the green felt.

“Hey, watch the felt,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes and jumps down. “Up for a game?”

“Depends. Are we betting?” I drink down my other shot.

“Of course we are.”

“What are the stakes?” Oh, I can’t wait to see what she comes up with.

She walks around the table, collecting the balls, racking them up. “If I win, you drive me back to my apartment and walk me to my door. No goodnight kiss, no good night fuck. Especially, no more caveman bullshit.”

“Fine. And if I win, I take you back to my house and we do whatever I want. No bullshit. No smart-ass attitude.”

She sticks out her hand, already swaying slightly on her feet. We shake, then I pull her in close so our chests are touching. “Deal,” she says breathily.

“Your ass is mine, darlin’.”

“In your dreams, Detective.”