“Sorry but my X-ray vision is on the fritz.” He stepped toward the door.
“No,” she gasped, grabbing his hand. “For God’s sake, don’t answer it.”
More knocking, rapid in succession and annoying as hell.
“If I don’t,” he ground out, pulling free, “I can’t get rid of them.”
For the second time that morning, he opened the door.
And for the second time that morning, found an unwelcome visitor.
“I’m sorry,” Sadie Nixon blurted, her blond hair a wild mass around her face, dark circles under her eyes. “Did I wake you?”
“I run a bar that doesn’t shut down until 2:00 a.m. What do you think?”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, sounding as if she was about to burst into tears any second. Christ, but this was not his morning. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
He raised his eyebrows at the suitcase she held. “I hear the Holiday Inn off the highway has affordable rates.”
He started to shut the door, but she blocked it with her foot. “Please,” Sadie said, much nicer than Red ever spoke to him. “Just for a night or two.”
Have her bunk with him for a few nights? No way. He didn’t get involved in personal problems, didn’t get personally involved with the people he worked with.
Or, in this case, the people who worked for him.
“You don’t want to come in here,” he said.
“I do. I really do.”
Maybe the only way to get rid of her—of both of them—was to let Sadie in.
Scratching his stomach, he stepped aside. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Thanks,” she said, brushing past him. “I promise not to—”
“You have got to be kidding.”
Sadie slowly turned, her eyes about popping out of her head when she saw her sister. “What are you doing here? Where did you get those clothes? I didn’t realize Nordstrom had a tart department.” She whirled on Kane. “And you. You should be ashamed of yourself. She’s just a child!”
“I probably should be,” he agreed. Would be if he’d gone through with some of the more lewd thoughts he’d had concerning Red. “But I’m not.”
He had more than his fair share of sins, but this wasn’t one of them.
Red stalked over to her sister, towering over the curvy blonde. “How dare you? I’m a grown woman, damn it.”
Sadie sniffed. “Then I suggest you act like one.”
“I don’t need to stand here and listen to this.” With a toss of her hair, Red snatched up her purse. “You’re in my way,” she told Sadie, who blocked her exit.
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what, exactly, you’re doing here.”
“I’m not telling you anything. Now move. Or I swear, I will move you.”
Sadie narrowed her eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”
“And I’d like to see the backs of both of you as you leave me in peace so I can get some more sleep,” Kane said.
“Blame her—” Red jabbed a finger at Sadie.
He yawned. Rolled his shoulders back, then took them each by the upper arm and tugged them out into the hallway. He stepped inside his apartment and faced them. “Let’s not cast blame.”
He shut and locked the door, the soft click echoing in the stunned silence.
Stunned, blessed silence.
He walked to his room. He might not have been as gentle as he could have been with Red, but he’d done the right thing. Which wasn’t something that came often or, to be honest, easily. Mostly because he couldn’t care less about what other people thought was right. But, yeah, for once he’d made the morally acceptable choice.
Give him a freaking medal.
He kicked off his jeans and padded naked to the bed. Lying down, he linked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He blew out a heavy breath. Shut his eyes, but could still feel the warmth of Red’s fingers on his skin. Could still smell her. She’d invaded his apartment and now her ghost was sticking around.
Women. They never knew when to leave a man alone.
He rolled off the bed, yanked the window open, then flopped onto his stomach. All the cool breeze did was blow around her phantom scent so he pulled the pillow over his head. He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, the memory of Charlotte standing before him in nothing but jeans and a bra imprinting itself in his mind. When he finally, gratefully, fell asleep, he dreamed of her. Of her long legs, bright hair and wary eyes.
And when he woke, hard and aching for her, he could have sworn he still tasted the whisper of her kiss on his lips.
CHAPTER TWO
Seven months later
BEHIND THE BAR, Kane wiped his hands on the towel he kept in his back pocket. Julie Moffat, law student by day and kick-ass waitress by night, wove her way through the crowd at O’Riley’s, a tray of cosmos in her raised hand. She delivered the drinks to a table of coeds celebrating a twenty-first birthday, said something to the girls then nodded toward the corner where two dudes raised their beers in a toast. By the time the girls smiled their thanks to the guys, Julie was back at the bar.
“I need four margaritas,” she told Sadie, “two regular, one of those no salt. One strawberry, the other pomegranate, both blended. And four shots of Cuervo.”
Sadie, already pouring tequila into the blender, raised her eyebrows. “Sympathizing, celebrating or just loosening inhibitions?”
“They’re celebrating,” Julie said with a nod toward the four middle-aged women at a booth by the dartboard. “The blonde in the mom jeans got some big promotion, finally getting out from under the ass-hat supervisor she’s had to deal with for the past five years.”
“Good triumphs over evil.” Sadie raised the bottle in a toast before setting it on the counter. “I love when that happens.”
Kane handed a customer two bottles of Corona, a lime quarter wedged in each one. “Give the ladies that round on the house,” he told Julie.
“Will do.” And with that, she and her asymmetrical dark hair and neck tattoo were off again.
Sadie poured herself a glass of ginger ale. “While I have your attention—”
“You don’t have my attention.” He pointedly took in her cheetah-print dress, the snug material hugging her curves. “But PETA called. They’d like to talk to you about that outfit.”
“Oh, ha-ha. Such wit. Ease your mind, my little animal advocate. No cheetahs were injured during the making of this dress.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve blinded half the people in here with those tights.”
She glanced down at the neon pink covering her legs. Grinned. “Just trying to bring a little bit of brightness to this dreary place. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do so next weekend as I need it off. That’s the whole weekend—two days. Two. Don’t try to schedule me for Saturday night and then claim you thought I meant only Friday.”
“You don’t seem to get how this works,” he said. “I’m the boss. I write the paychecks. I make the rules.”
And holy shit, but he had sounded just like his father.
“Yes, yes,”