How did she expect him to react?
He knew she was familiar with weapons, that she held her own in moments of crisis. He knew she jumped at every whisper of wind.
Such an enigma.
Yet the way she composed herself, her face a blank facade, told him more than an outpouring of emotion ever could.
It was in those contained moments that he most keenly felt her pain. It was that pain that had him holding back now. Whatever had happened, whatever she’d done, whatever shame she bore, it couldn’t compare to her suffering.
“Even back then,” she whispered, her fingers getting ever closer to his left nipple, “I never shared my bed overnight.”
His heart beat so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t rattle the bed. He flattened her hand to his chest to keep her still. “You need a larger bed.” The full-size mattress wasn’t nearly big enough for her, him and Cash, to boot. The proximity of her body was almost a necessity; there wasn’t room for him to ease away.
He heard the smile in her voice when she said, “Until you, it wasn’t an issue.”
“I have a king-size bed.”
“Much better suited to a man of your size.”
Did she shift her leg against him on purpose, to punctuate that comment about his size? “We’ll stick close, that’s all.” He locked her to him, his only defense. “It’s fine.”
She relaxed again. “If you’re sure.”
He throbbed all over, skin hot, muscles clenched, need escalating with each touch of her moist breath. But he wasn’t a wimp, so he wouldn’t budge—not when he knew Alice wanted him to stay.
“Go to sleep now.” He hugged her, kissed her forehead and pretended to fall asleep. Tomorrow he’d take care of work obligations.
And after that...he’d take care of Alice.
* * *
THE STORMS LEFT behind air too muggy to breathe. Even inside the bar, the sluggish cooling system couldn’t fight the humidity. Rowdy rubbed the back of his neck. Perspiration stuck his shirt to his back and curled the ends of his unkempt hair.
Not that he gave a damn.
Restless, he sipped his beer and thought far too much about too many women.
Even without a reason to worry, his sister stayed on his mind. He should relegate that duty to Logan now—but he knew he wouldn’t. Pepper was the most important person in his world. To his dying day, he’d do what he could to keep her happy and safe.
That brought his thoughts to Alice. Too intuitive for her own good, Alice nettled him on many levels. Not with any intimate interest, regardless of Reese’s concern. But she was alone, vulnerable, emotionally guarded. Sure, she would deny that, at least to him. Maybe not to Reese.
Either way, it didn’t change the facts. Something or someone plagued her. Rowdy planned to figure it out.
It complicated his intent, the way she made him feel so defensive. And wary. How the hell had she so easily gotten to him? And why did she want to pick at his psyche, anyway? Women approached him all the time, but not because they wanted to understand him.
Never that—thank God.
Staring toward a tableful of women without really seeing them, Rowdy drank his beer. So far tonight, his questions had gone unanswered. He had a few leads, but nothing solid. A few sources checking into facts, but they could be unreliable.
He wouldn’t give up.
As his gaze moved around the room, a woman smiled at him, but he didn’t encourage her. Another lifted her drink to him in a suggestive toast. He glanced beyond her.
Everything came full circle as he realized he once again searched for Avery Mullins, the third woman on his mind.
He got why his sister had taken up permanent residence in his thoughts. It didn’t take a shrink to know that he’d lost everyone—except her. Now that she’d found her happy-ever-after with a good guy, he felt at loose ends. Picking up on his protector role with Alice made sense.
He could roll with the punches when necessary, but he liked playing guard dog. Alice could use his special street savvy, and assisting her gave him a solid purpose. So he thought about her. Made sense.
No problem.
But Avery...what the hell was it about her? Rather than lie to himself, he admitted that he came to this particular dive, repeatedly, on the chance he’d run into her again.
That last time they’d crossed paths, he’d had goons after him intent on a beat-down. You couldn’t live his life and not make enemies left and right. Elusive and cautious as he might be, every so often the disgruntled bastards caught up.
If it hadn’t been for Avery assisting him out a back exit, he would have had to crawl from the bar, bloody and battered. Two men he could handle. Maybe even three. But five armed and muscled bullies lessened his odds of getting away upright, on his own steam.
Without too many questions asked and only a little condemnation, Avery had lent a hand to protect him. He’d repaid her by stealing a couple of kisses.
Lousy little pecks under shitty conditions and a definite time crunch. That’s all they’d shared.
Added up, those kisses totaled less than five seconds, so they hardly counted.
Yet...they’d stuck with him. She’d stuck with him.
It wasn’t because she amused him without even trying. Or that her forthright manner was adorably honest. It wasn’t even the way she looked at him with heated awareness—all while denying an attraction.
With Avery, he was more likely to get insults than come-ons.
She’d stuck with him because he needed to have her.