CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT LOOP-DE-ENVIOUS-LOOP RHYS
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
LOOP-DE-ENVIOUS-LOOP
RHYS
Having Lo’s taste on my tongue improved my mood, but it did jack-shit for making the night go faster.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever watched the damn clock so much, counting down till close.
I had plans.
And I couldn’t wait.
Rye was decently busy for a Wednesday. People were still coming in. Still ordering drinks. Nothing about it said I could get away with closing up early.
I was tempted anyway.
Lo seemed to know it, too.
I might’ve had her—and she sure as fuck had me—but nothing else changed.
She remained just as much of a cock tease.
More of one actually. ’Cause now I knew how she felt.
How she sounded. How she smiled and moaned my name when she came.
How insanely sexy she looked—her pretty face flushed with pleasure that she welcomed as confidently as she seemed to do everything else in her life.
That meant that every time she rolled her eyes, gave me a hard time, or just grinned up at me, I wasn’t fighting against that pull. Didn’t have to.
She was mine.
A fact I wanted to enjoy.
I finished assembling the tray of cocktails—with extra paper umbrellas ’cause Lo wasn’t the only one who loved that shit, apparently—and set them in the server area before hightailing my pathetic ass across the bar.
Lo was leaning forward on her arms. Not far enough to give a view down her top, but I clocked three bastards who were waiting for it.
Four, if I included myself.
I wrapped a possessive arm around her chest and dropped my head to whisper in her ear. “Think we need to institute a dress code.”
“Agreed.”
I lifted my head just as she tilted hers back. “That so?”
“Yeah. You wear too many of these slutty flannels, and you can’t keep getting away with it.”
I chuckled. “Thought you didn’t like my wardrobe.”
“I prefer what’s under it.” She shrugged like she wasn’t driving me outta my mind. “What’s your problem with my outfit?”
“Showing too much skin.”
She gave me a what the fuck look. “My shoulder?”
“It’s a sexy shoulder.”
“It would send a Puritan to an early grave.”
“It would send me to an early grave if I didn’t have plans later.”
Lo licked her bottom lip, just to torture me. “What plans are those, barman?”
Before I could answer—not that I was telling her anything—my phone started ringing in my pocket. I grudgingly released her to check who it was.
What the hell?
“Be back in a second,” I told Lo before connecting the call. “Hey.”
“Got a second?” Lars asked.
I met Lars through Kase and the rest of the Hyde group. Considered him a buddy, but we weren’t tight. We didn’t call to shoot the shit. Especially not at night when we each had our own bars to run—his with tits, ass, and the drama that came with both.
Him calling already set off warning alarms in my head. The tone of his voice, though? That set off warning torpedoes.
“What’s up?” I asked as I headed back to the office.
“My father-in-law wants to meet.”
“Good luck with that?” I muttered, not really sure what he expected me to say.
“Not with me, smartass. Or not just me. He wants to meet you, too.”
“You know this is Rhys, right?” For all I knew, he’d dialed the wrong person.
“Yeah, I’m aware. He said he’s got something important to tell us, but he couldn’t get into it right then.”
My brows lowered. I had no clue who his father-in-law was or why he’d want to meet me. “Who is he?”
“Noah Lennon. Owns some hardware stores.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Damn, I was hoping you had some insight.”
“I’m better with faces than names.”
“He might be, too, because he only called you the owner of Rye.”
Speaking of faces…
I sat at my desk and loaded the stream from the camera to the side of the bar. I watched as Lo threw her head back and laughed at something, and it hurt. She was so fuckin’ pretty, it literally hurt to look at her.
I did it anyway as I thought about why a man I’d never met would want to meet.
“He want a job or a gig or something?” I asked.
“Since he also wants to meet with me, I sure hope not. Don’t quite think he’s got the core strength to work a pole.” Lars shuddered. “Grossed myself out with that. Anyway, he’s coming here in an hour. Can you get away without your bar imploding?”
For the first time in a while, I knew I could. Not only would Lo help Chuck keep things running smoothly for the quick conversation, she could handle anyone who got stupid.
“I can do that,” I said. “See you then.”
We clicked off, and I went to exit out of the camera before realizing Lo was no longer behind the bar.
I waited a few minutes, hoping like hell she was coming back to fool around. When she didn’t show—and still wasn’t on camera—I got up.
I was on a hellcat hunt.
It didn’t take me long to find her in the kitchen talking to Kodie.
Jealousy punched me in the damn gut, and it wasn’t something I was familiar with. It disappeared—or reduced by ten percent or so—when she looked up to see me and a smile instantly brightened her face.
“A word,” I said to her before returning to my office.
I could practically feel her scowl and eye roll.
But I also knew she would follow. At the beginning, I’d been surprised by those little shows of submission.
They made a lot more sense now.
Sure enough, she stepped into the office just as I sat at my desk. She closed the door after her, but un-fuckin’-fortunately, she stayed across the room instead of climbing onto my lap. “What’s up?”
“Why are you distracting my kitchen staff?”
That time, I didn’t have to feel her eye roll. I saw it, slow and dramatic. “It’s my break. I wanted fries.”
“He’s got a crush on you.”
Lo didn’t try to deny it. She just lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, maybe. But you want to hear who I have a crush on?”
The flirty tone didn’t fool me, and I stabbed a finger toward her. “Think about whoever you’re about to say and whether you want their death on your hands.”
A mix of disappointment I’d guessed her game and amusement at my threat mixed on her face. “Death, huh?”
“Serious maiming.”
“Fiiiine.” She waited a second. “Was that the word you wanted to have?”
“Come here.”
She must’ve read me to know that it was more than me wanting her closer because she switched to detective in an instant. Luna, not Lo. It shouldn’t have been sexy.
It sure as fuck was.
As soon as she was within reach, I snagged her and settled her onto my lap. “That call I got was from a man named Lars. He owns a club. Wicked.”
“Joss’s husband?”
“That’s the one. Joss’s father wants a meeting with me, so I need to step out for a bit.”
“Okay, I’ll wrap up—”
“Just me.”
Her bottom lip pushed out in a pout, and she blinked up at me with sad eyes. “If you wanted to visit a strip club, you could’ve just said so. There’s no reason to invent some excuse.”
I opened my mouth to reassure her that I had no interest in paying to see pussy, period, but especially not when I had the best right on my lap.
When I owned the best.
Before I could, her thumb pushed against my lips like I did to hers, and she started laughing. “The look on your face was priceless.” She sobered as she twisted in my hold to look at me. “Do you think this is about the case?”
“Couldn’t tell you.”
She tilted her head for a few beats. “I don’t think I should come with you.”
“Fuck no, you shouldn’t.”
“Well, now I want to come.”
“Too bad.”
She gave me the sweetest smile as she stroked her hand from my shoulder to my chest.
And then she pinched my damn nipple.
“What the fuck was that for?” I said, rubbing the abused spot.
“A warning. We’re already on the same page, but the more you argue, the more I want to change my mind.”
“Then you definitely shouldn’t let me fuck your face right now.”
There was nothing sweet about that smile. “Okay, I won’t.”
Damn. Thought that would work.
“Going with you would be suspicious,” she said.
It was more than that. If she’d thought it was a good idea, I would’ve had her back—though her fine ass at a strip club would’ve likely ended with at least one maiming. But I trusted her professional judgment.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t relieved she opted not to go.
“But you need to be extra careful.”
I wrapped my hand around her neck to tilt her head. “You worried about me?”
“Yes.” That was it. Zero hesitation. But more of that teasing heat when she added, “We have plans later, remember?”
Christ, that shot to my dick and my chest.
“You can follow the GPS tracker,” I said, barely biting back a smile at her stunned expression. “I’ll even pocket it if you want.”
“You know about that? When did you find it?”
“As soon as you placed it.”
“You weren’t even in the car!”
“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention.”
She tapped the screen that showed the bar. “Stalker.”
“Fuck yeah, I am.”
Wicked wasn’t my scene.
I saw it from the perspective of a bar owner. The headaches. The drama. The dancers and bartenders just trying to do their jobs without dumbasses thinking they could take it further.
That said, if I had to be forced into a strip club, Wicked would be my top choice. It wasn’t a rundown dump sandwiched between shuttered buildings. Lars ran the place like I ran Rye.
As a business he was proud of.
Waiting at the bar for him to come from the back, I pulled my phone from my pocket to text Lo.
Me:
All good there?
When I didn’t get a response, I brought up the camera to see they were busy. And then I switched to the other vantage point on the shelves because she was leaning down with her ass stuck out at so perfect of a position, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence.
“Scenery so bad here that you’ve got to watch TV instead?” Lars asked as he thumped my shoulder.
“This scenery isn’t my scenery,” I said, pocketing my phone.
“Sorry for the delay.” He reached over and grabbed a napkin before wiping at a white spot on his shoulder.
I grimaced, not wanting to think about what that could be.
“It’s not what you think,” he said with his own grimace. “Joss came by to grab some papers, and Remy decided she didn’t like my shirt today.”
Remy was his baby girl, meaning the fluid was still human, but nowhere near as nasty as it could’ve been.