Whoa. Rowdy’s left eyebrow shot up. It was the first time he’d heard Avery curse. “To you?”
“To everyone. If she doesn’t have a legitimate complaint, she makes up something. She’s so annoying, I’m the only one who will willingly wait on her.”
Probably insecure, then. Definitely not his thing.
He enjoyed strong women. Confident women.
Redheads.
Had he actually missed Avery that much?
To shake off his odd mood, Rowdy teased, “Aren’t you the little critic today?”
“Just a few observations on my part.”
“I’ll scratch them both off the list, then,” Rowdy promised.
She still looked disgruntled. “Hey, if you don’t mind kissing an ashtray or listening to nonstop complaints, go for it. They both look agreeable.”
Yeah, he’d go for it—but with Avery, not a substitute. “I appreciate the feedback. Anyone else I should avoid?”
She shrugged. “To each his own, but I’d steer clear of that one in the corner, too, the one with the short brown hair.”
Rowdy looked and admired. Nice. Long legs, shapely bod, plenty of attitude. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing if you like a lot of ink.”
“Tattoo?”
“Plural. And they’re weird. I mean, not the usual stuff you’d see on a woman. They’re not pretty, just extremely noticeable.”
“I don’t see them.”
“Because she’s facing you. One runs up the back of her calf, and another is across the top of her shoulder.”
Rowdy nodded, but again, while he didn’t get turned on by tats, they didn’t really bother him either.
“Thanks. Thing is, though, I wasn’t looking at any particular woman.” Giving up his careless slouch in the seat, he sat forward, forearms on the tabletop, attentive, even enchanted.
Avery glanced at his shoulders, over his chest and...away.
He’d felt her attention like a stroke. Eventually, she’d stop denying him. “Actually, if you want the truth, I was thinking about a lady I saw earlier today.”
Her back stiffened. “Only one? I’m shocked.” She started to stand.
Rowdy caught her wrist.
Awareness arced between them, and they both froze, Avery staring at his hand, Rowdy appreciating her softness and warmth.
Smoothing his thumb back and forth over her wrist, Rowdy noted the new heat in her cheeks mixing with the slight sunburn. “Want me to tell you about her?” A pulse tripped in her pale throat. He wanted to put his mouth, his tongue, right there. He wanted to free her silky hair, taste her flushed skin, breathe in her heady scent—
She swallowed, lifted her chin. “I assume she’s a woman you plan to sleep with.”
“Wrong again.” At the moment, Avery was the only woman he wanted. “I didn’t visit her for that.”
“So, she’s a relative?”
Another assumption? He shook his head. “I only met her recently.”
“Too old? Too young?”
Did she honestly think he slept with every woman he met? “No, smart-ass. She’s probably mid-twenties.”
“Hmm.” Avery eased away from his hold to tuck her hand beneath the table. “I take it she’s not sexy enough for you, then.”
Rowdy gave it some thought. “You know, in a quiet, sort of naive way, she’s really sensual.” And intrusive, but he could forgive her that since she had good intentions.
“Wonderful.” Avery’s tone turned brisk. “Glad to hear it. Sounds like you’re all set.”
Shades of jealousy? Nice. “I already told you, it’s not like that. I think she might be in some trouble, and I hoped to help her. That’s all.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’m working on it.”
“So this—” she gestured at the small table, at his empty beer glass “—your lack of company or interest in drinking, that was you...fretting over her?”
Did she have to make that sound so absurd? “I don’t fret. I was strategizing.” And sulking, but that was such an aberration, no way in hell would he admit it to someone else.
“I should assume she’s not married? Doesn’t have anyone else to assist her?”
“Not married, no, but from what I can tell, she’s taken.”
“Ah.” More antagonistic by the second, Avery regained her feet. “I guess that makes her off-limits.”
Rowdy stood, too. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” She looked ready to throw the empty beer glass at his head. “So if the woman you like has a significant other—”
“It’s not about me liking her.” Taking care not to move too quickly, Rowdy circled the table to close the space between them. He wanted to lessen his odds of getting hit with a projectile. “It’s about me respecting the other guy.”
Tipping her head back, Avery stared up at him. “And in this case you do?”
Rowdy couldn’t help it. Recognition brought a slow grin. “Yeah, I do.” He actually liked Reese, respected his ability and intuition, and even enjoyed his company. “Crazy, huh?”
“Why is it crazy?”
“For one thing, because he’s a cop.”
Sounding tart, Avery said, “And here I thought you avoided the police.”