Rescue Me

by Kira Sinclair

  “I don’t follow directions very well.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  So much about this woman intrigued him. She might be terribly tiny, but her attitude said she was ten feet tall and could tackle anything in front of her.

  He liked that confidence. It was sexy as hell.

  Keeping his hold light, Finn slowly began guiding Tucker backward. It was a dance, one they’d been skirting around since last night. Considering the job he had to do and the role he was taking on, maybe it was better to get this out of the way now. Diffuse the tension building unchecked between them. Especially since they were going to be playing the boyfriend/girlfriend game.

  Her gaze was wary, but she didn’t slip away. She stayed right with him, moving step for step. Her eyes glittered, not just with anger, but with a curiosity she couldn’t quite hide.

  Finn flashed a wicked grin and didn’t stop until her back connected with the wall. Bending to her, Finn’s mouth settled over hers, a warm demand. He didn’t touch her anywhere else. Left her plenty of room to push him away if she wanted.

  Her lips were tight and stiff for several seconds, but like magic, within moments she was melting against him. She went up on tiptoe, trying to get closer. And her hands gripped his biceps hard, dragging him in. Her mouth opened, the tip of her tongue sweeping across the seam of his lips.

  Finn let out a groan of his own, opening and sinking into what she’d offered.

  His palm settled against the curve of her cheek, his thumb slipping across the line of her jaw and angling her chin higher.

  Her skin was damn soft, her mouth warm, reminding him of somewhere else he’d like to sink deep. God, the taste of her was the best aphrodisiac he’d ever had. Instead of quenching the thirst he’d been fighting, that one taste only made him crave more. Damn, this wasn’t smart.

  Finding a flash of willpower somewhere buried deep, Finn uncovered the strength to pull back. He dropped his forehead against hers, feeling the soft flutter of her breath brush across his throat. He fought for...something. Sanity. Integrity. Something other than the demand beating a rhythm through his body, urging him to take more.

  Pulling back, he stared into her dazed eyes, unable to fight the curl of satisfaction that rolled through his belly. He’d done that to her. With one mind-blowing kiss.

  “Damn, woman. If the men in this place knew how amazing that mouth was, there’s no way in hell they’d ever leave you alone.”

  * * *

  TUCKER YANKED OUT of Finn’s arms. Her heart thumped erratically. Her belly writhed with nerves and an energy she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  In fact, she’d grown accustomed to not letting herself feel.

  Something else rolled through her, too. A bolt of anger that had her hand flashing out and her palm connecting with Finn’s cheek. The smack of skin on skin echoed through the empty bar, the shock of contact reverberating up her arm, zinging straight through the top of her skull.

  “Shit.” Why had she done that? “I’m so sorry, Finn.”

  If guilt wasn’t spreading through her like a bad case of chicken pox, she might have thought the shock that left his jaw slack was funny. It really wasn’t.

  He stepped away from her, a deliberate movement that took him out of range for round two. Not that there’d be one.

  He rubbed his cheek, the gentle scritch, scritch, scritch of his stubble sending a tingle down her spine.

  “Let me get you some ice.” It was the least she could do.

  He stared at her for several seconds before his entire body started shaking with laughter. The sound of it rolled out of him, a little rusty and rough. She liked the timbre of it. Like he didn’t use it often and it was a privilege that he was sharing the sound with her.

  No, she wouldn’t let it get to her.

  “It isn’t funny,” she said, barely controlling the urge to stamp her foot. She’d slapped the shit out of him and he was laughing?

  “I beg to differ. Can you imagine telling this story to our grandchildren? About swapping ice for our injuries the first time we met?”

  What? Tucker blinked, panic and confusion tumbling around inside her. “Whoa there. No one said anything about grandchildren. This is a pretend relationship.”

  “So you are going to do it?”

  Tucker sighed. How the hell had they gotten to this point? Not five minutes ago this man had had her backed against the wall with his tongue down her throat and her mind blank with wanting him.

  Beneath her breath, Tucker swore. Finn heard it anyway. She could tell by the tiny quirk to his lips. Damn, she wanted to feel them again. To really savor the moment this time, instead of being blindsided.

  Nope, she needed that like she needed a hole in the head.

  “I don’t have much choice, do I? But I do have one demand. You can’t bring Duchess into the bar.”

  His eyebrows creased together, wiping away his jovial expression.

  “She’s the reason I was asked to do this, Tucker. Without her there’s no point in me being here. I need her to scent your customers for traces of drugs.”

  “No.” She wasn’t budging on this. “I can’t have your dog running around my bar, freaking out the patrons.”

  “She didn’t bother anyone last night.”

  “She bothered me. And having her here after throwing y’all out last night would only raise everyone’s suspicions.”

  Finn threw his hands in the air. Beside them, Duchess stirred and Tucker couldn’t stop herself from skittering in the opposite direction. Yes, she hated to admit that the dog scared her. But that was the reality.

  “Then I might as well not even be here.”

  Tucker shrugged. “Okay. Sorry I couldn’t help more.”

  She could practically hear Finn’s molars grinding together with frustration. The muscle in his jaw ticked and the vein in his neck throbbed.

  “Tonight. I’ll agree to leave Duchess home tonight, but we’re going to revisit this issue.”

  “You can revisit it all you want, but I’m not changing my mind. She isn’t a service dog, Finn, and doesn’t belong in my bar.”

  She could tell he wanted to argue more, but was smart enough to realize it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “We need to talk about the rest of it, then. Your staff needs to believe that we’re a couple.”

  “Good luck with that. They were all here last night and saw the sparks flying between us.”

  “So we use that to our advantage. Some of the fieriest relationships stem from passionate hate.”

  Yeah, not in her experience. As far as she was concerned, any relationship that started out rocky was most likely doomed to failure. Actually, most relationships were doomed to failure, period.

  “My team know me a little too well to believe we’d suddenly be together after only one night.”

  “So we play things a little slow for the next couple days. I hang around, which is really the point of me being here in the first place. You gradually spend more and more time with me.”

  She really didn’t want that, either, but there wasn’t much she could do to prevent it. Unless she wanted to refuse to cooperate and have her security team toss him whenever he showed up—and they’d want to know why. Much simpler just to let him spend a few days at her bar, realize he was mistaken about what was happening here and finally leave her alone.

  “Fine. But no more kissing,” she said, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. Better to set the ground rules right up front.

  “There’s one thing you need to know about me, Tucker,” he said in a silky voice that sent electricity shooting down her spine. “I never lie. So I can’t promise that. Not only do we need to make this look good, but I want to kiss you again.”

  Tucker’s body reacted with conflicting res
ponses. Her lips parted and tingled, as if he’d already made good on the promise. Anxiety, desire and wariness tangled in her belly.

  She didn’t know how to manage Finn McAllister, and that realization floored her. She’d grown up the only daughter of a disciplined military man, with the expectation that she could—and should—take care of herself. She was strong and independent. She’d never met a problem or person she couldn’t handle.

  But Finn set her outside her comfort zone. Given any other set of circumstances, she would’ve simply walked away.

  He took a step closer and it took everything Tucker had not to retreat. She refused to give him that satisfaction.

  Wrapping his hands around her biceps, he bent so he could meet her gaze straight on. “Someone is using your bar to sell drugs, Tucker. This isn’t a game.”

  Her entire body went tight. “I’m well aware of that, Finn.”

  “The cover is for your benefit. To keep you out of danger. And hopefully prevent any backlash once we zero in on our prey.”

  Beautiful. Because there hadn’t been enough issues to worry about with him lurking around her bar. Now, she was genuinely worried about pissing off some dangerous people, something that hadn’t occurred to her until just now.

  The back door to the bar opened, the heavy wood panel slamming against the wall, making her jump.

  “Tucker?” Wyatt’s voice rang out a split second before he appeared in the doorway.

  “Too late to change your mind now,” Finn whispered, low enough that only she could hear.

  “I was hoping...” Wyatt’s steps faltered as his gaze landed on Finn. “What’s he doing here?”

  Tucker shrugged. “His wallet fell out of his pocket last night when he was scooping me up off the floor.” She refused to say he rescued her. She’d been perfectly capable of getting herself out of the middle of that mess...once her head stopped ringing. “He stopped by to see if someone had turned it in.”

  Wyatt’s gaze narrowed. “Did they?”

  “Lucky for me, someone was a good Samaritan,” he picked up her lie a little too smoothly, holding up a slim leather trifold he pulled from his back pocket.

  “Yeah, lucky,” Wyatt said, drawing out his words. “No one mentioned a lost wallet to me.”

  “Oh, yeah, well, I found it beneath one of the tables last night when I was closing up. Was going to have you call him when you got in today, but he showed up, instead.”

  Wyatt’s gaze swung between them. It was obvious he didn’t necessarily buy the story. But he wasn’t suspicious enough to actually call her on it.

  Finally, his gaze settled on her. “He try something?”

  “No.” How the hell did he know that? “Why do you ask?”

  “Because he has half a handprint across his left cheek. You might be small, but you pack a hell of a wallop.”

  Finn’s lips twisted into a half grimace, half grin. His fingers rubbed against his cheek again. “You’ve got that right.”

  Tucker’s face flamed hot. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed. Growing up, her dad had always been rather blunt with her about life. Few things embarrassed her. Even fewer once she started tending bar.

  Wyatt stared at her like she’d just grown a second head.

  Finn let out a soft chuckle. “She and I have been sparking off each other since the moment we met. Let’s just say I wanted to know if those sparks might be more than irritation.”

  Wyatt eyed Finn for several seconds. “And are they?”

  Finn shrugged, an impish expression crossing his face. “The mark on my face came about a minute after the kiss ended. What do you think?”

  Tucker watched Wyatt’s gaze travel slowly up and down Finn’s body. Her head of security catalogued every inch, all his strengths and flaws, and finally said, “Interesting.”

  “Isn’t it?” Finn said.

  “Okay, boys. You can both stop talking like I’m not here. You,” she pointed to Wyatt, “can get to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, a smirk curling his lips as he gave her a mock salute.

  “Don’t make me tell Michelle what a prick you were being.”

  “Won’t be news to her.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You.” She pointed to Finn.

  “I’ll just run Duchess home and get her settled. But I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Goodie,” she mumbled under her breath. Maybe while he was gone she’d manage to get her wayward libido locked down and her brain back in control.

  5

  THE BAR WAS even busier than it had been the previous night. In addition to the mechanical bull and the armadillo, on Saturdays the Kentucky Rose boasted a local country band. They showed up a little after nine, setting up their equipment on the small stage next to the dance floor. Around ten their guitars started wailing and the low, smooth voice of their lead singer—a female who held the crowd in the palm of her hand—immediately had everyone’s attention.

  The place filled up fast; it was standing room only within no time at all.

  Finn simply kept his spot at the far end of the bar, the seat he’d purposely chosen because of its perfect view—not only of the customers filling the place, but Tucker’s staff as they moved through the bar.

  He had to give it to them, they were all efficient at their jobs. The girls knew exactly how to play to the crowd—both men and women. They effortlessly served drinks, handled rowdy customers, slapped wandering hands and still managed to make every patron smile.

  As much as it bothered him, he’d given in to Tucker’s demand—for now—and taken Duchess home before the Rose opened. He understood her argument that keeping Duchess with him would only raise her staff’s suspicions.

  She wasn’t wrong, but eventually everyone would have to get used to Duchess being there because she couldn’t do her job from home.

  “You’re back.”

  The redhead from last night wandered up to him, brushing against his arm as she bent over the bar to grab something on the other side.

  He wasn’t stupid. She’d done it on purpose, the tiny shorts covering her rear riding up and flashing the lower curve of her ass. It would have been easy for her to walk to the other side of the bar to get whatever she’d wanted, but she hadn’t.

  “Yep. Tucker’s a hard woman to ignore.” Might as well lay the groundwork for their cover story...not that his words weren’t one hundred percent true.

  She laughed, a low, throaty sound rolling through her chest. Pressing her back against the dark mahogany, she maneuvered herself right up against his thigh. “I’m Nicole, by the way.”

  “Nicole, I’m going to save us both some time and say I’m not interested.”

  He wasn’t in the habit of hunting in bars, but he wasn’t usually immune to beautiful women tossing themselves at him, either. Tonight, though, it was easy to turn her down.

  And not just because he was pretending to be involved with her boss.

  “Don’t you have customers, Nicole?” Tucker asked, walking up behind the other woman.

  Her whipcord voice rocked through Finn and he didn’t bother fighting the smirk that twitched across his lips. Damn, what was it about that smooth, authoritative tone that drove him crazy?

  He was used to being the one in charge in every relationship he’d ever had—as short and sweet as most of them had been. He was the alpha in every aspect of his life, not just his job.

  Tucker wasn’t the kind of woman who would come to heel because he issued an order.

  And that made his blood sing.

  His gaze found hers over Nicole’s shoulder. Her deep blue eyes burned with irritation. That only made his grin widen.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nicole said, scooting back into the crowd. He didn’t even wat
ch her leave.

  Leaning across the bar, Tucker hissed at him. “If you’re going to hit on my girls all night you might as well walk out the door right now.”

  Taking advantage of the opportunity she was unwittingly giving him, Finn shot up, his bar stool scraping across the wooden floor. At the last second she realized what he intended and started to pull away, but not fast enough.

  Finn wrapped his hands around her arms and held her in place. Pressing up and over the bar, he bridged the gap between them.

  “Kitten, the only woman I’m interested in tonight is you,” he said, loud enough for several people around them to hear.

  Her lips, bright and glossy again, parted. Her pupils dilated and her skin took on the faintest rosy hue.

  God, he wanted to sweep every glass off the bar, spread her out across the smooth surface and uncover every inch of her delectable body. Nope, it wasn’t going to be difficult to pretend he was interested. And then some.

  Although the display he was about to give was mostly for the staff watching, there was no part of him that regretted what he was about to do.

  Cupping the back of her head, Finn brought their mouths together. It was a quick kiss. A promise. A display. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—nothing about the kiss felt fake.

  Before she could form a protest—or take back the ground he’d just gained by slapping him again—Finn let her go. The heels of her boots clicked back onto the floor. Reaching up, he swiped his thumb across her bottom lip, cleaning the smear he’d caused.

  “Now, get back to work,” he murmured. “The sooner you’re done here, the sooner I can take you out for something to eat.”

  Tucker blinked at him, her gaze still a little unfocused. “You know we don’t close until two a.m., right?”

  “So our choices will be limited. I’m sure we can find some greasy spoon that’s serving eggs, bacon and pancakes.”

  Her eyes flashed and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He saw it, even if she tried desperately to suppress it.

  “Eggs, bacon and pancakes, huh?”