He watched Jodi closely as she spoke. Now that she wasn’t mocking him or rolling her eyes at his perceived absurd life choices, she seemed far more friendly and almost normal.
He couldn’t lie to himself. She was gorgeous. Her dimples made him smile every time she did. More and more of her curls had escaped the confines of whatever clip they were held back by. They fell in waves down her back and over her shoulders. Her ass was fantastic. Following her around was no chore.
Suddenly, he realized she was no longer speaking, and he jerked his gaze up to meet hers, finding her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. “She’s cheating on you, you know.”
He flinched. “Who’s cheating on me?”
“Katia. Duh. Your wife?”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” That was more information than he should have divulged.
Jodi leaned closer, getting in his face. “You don’t care?”
He shook his head. “Not really. No.” Actually, it would be easier if she were cheating on him. If either of them was caught cheating during the ninety days, the other would walk away with a hundred thousand dollars, not sharing it with the adulterer. If Katia got caught, this entire farce would end all the sooner, and he could go on with his life, a hundred and thirty grand richer than three months ago.
“She’s pretty,” Jodi pointed out, obviously far more interested in Tuck’s relationship with the woman than he was.
He shrugged. “I suppose. If you like the cover-model type.”
“Who doesn’t?”
He lifted his brows. “That’s so shallow. I prefer a woman with goals and brains that extend beyond drinking with friends, taking whatever pills they can get their hands on to lose weight, and interests that extend past social media.”
Katia spent nearly every waking hour on Instagram or whatever other platforms she used. She proudly called herself an influencer, which he didn’t even try to understand. To her, tweeting and posting all day was a job. And, he had to be honest, she made a living doing it. Who was he to judge?
“She’s taking these damn pills too?” Jodi frowned.
“Eh, I’m not sure she specifically does, but most of the cast on the show for sure took pills. Probably the same ones you’re having issues with here. Whatever the latest fad is among young girls who think they can swallow something and lose weight.”
After spending two weeks on set with these women, he understood the tradeoff better. They were raging bitches. Whatever the benefits of the pills were, he couldn’t imagine anyone trading their personality for a sexy body. They were like zombies half the time, enraged zombies who went after each other like feral cats.
Jodi scrunched up her face. “I can’t imagine being that shallow.”
He couldn’t see it in Jodi either. For one thing, she had on more clothes than he’d seen on any of those women combined in the two weeks he was on set with them. All they cared about was ensuring they exposed as much skin as possible and got as much camera time as they could manage. Each and every bridesmaid and groomsman had one goal and one goal only—getting noticed by somebody in the business. Cold Feet wasn’t anyone’s big break, but it could be a stepping-stone into the industry.
Jodi grew serious. “Do you really think you can figure out who’s dealing inside the bar?”
Tuck nodded. “Yep. I’ll find them. I can’t promise someone else won’t come in right behind them and take their place, but whoever the current dealer is, he or she won’t last long under my watch.” He knew he was cocky, but shit, after as many years as he’d worked behind enemy lines for the SEALs, finding a drug dealer in a bar couldn’t be that difficult.
Jodi rubbed her arms as if she had a chill. She was rightfully unnerved by what was happening in her bar. Unlike the flaky, beauty-obsessed woman Tuck was currently “married” to, Jodi had a business degree, common sense, and life plans that included keeping this bar afloat long after her father was gone.
Bridgman’s Bar meant something to her. Her father had opened it before she was even born. Tuck could tell the thought of losing it was the source of constant stress. She was pissed that anyone would dare tarnish her reputation by using the place as a meeting point for transactions.
It was official. If Tuck were single, not working for Jodi, and didn’t have a pile of financial problems, he would ask Jodi out in a heartbeat. Alas, none of those things were true, so he needed to keep things professional.
Life sucked sometimes.
Of course, it’s not as if he would ever have a shot with her anyway. She saw him as shallow and money hungry, and rightfully so. How many other women in life would recognize Tuck from the show and judge him without knowing him? Probably a lot.
Great. Fun life ahead of him.
Chapter 3
“You changed clothes.”
Jodi lifted her gaze from behind the bar to find Tuck staring at her. She glanced down at the white tank top she’d put on a few minutes ago. “Yeesss. We’re about to open.”
He lifted a brow. “That’s what you wear to work?” He didn’t look pleased. In fact, he was gritting his teeth.
Now she was pissed. “What the hell is wrong with my shirt?” She knew perfectly well what was wrong with it, and frankly she agreed. It was too tight. Too revealing. Downright uncomfortable. And necessary.
“See? Told you you looked like a floozy in that shirt.” This came from her father as he stepped from the back room. “Let Tuck catch the bad guys. Stop trying to lure them in yourself.”
Tuck flattened his hands on the bar and leaned forward. “Wait. Please tell me you aren’t wearing revealing, sexy clothes to get the attention of a drug dealer.”
She winced and then shrugged, not meeting his gaze. Why did he care? He was married to someone who wore less than she had on every time she went to the grocery store. Hell, Katia dressed like that for everyone in the world to see on camera. He shouldn’t judge.
Tuck leaned in even farther.
Her dad smirked. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her. I didn’t even know she owned these body-hugging wifebeaters. It’s like my own daughter has lost her mind lately. She wears a T-shirt with the bar logo on it for her entire life, and now this.” He groaned and then stepped back into the storeroom behind the bar.
“Jodi…” Tuck drawled. “It’s a bad idea to mess with drug dealers. Let me find the perp. You don’t need to get involved.”
Determined to hold her ground, she glared at him. “You haven’t even started yet. I have no proof you can spot the asshole any easier than I can. At least this way, I stand a chance of being offered whatever he’s selling.”
Tuck’s face grew red, which was saying something considering how tan he was. He ran a hand over the top of his thick brown hair in exasperation, blinking those penetrating green eyes at her when she glanced. The muscles on his forearms were bulging, more so than usual. Tattoos extending out from under his sleeves. He was also shaking his head.
“Don’t be sexist. There’s nothing wrong with my outfit. Everything is covered. It’s all legal.” She was exaggerating a bit. After all, she had on a hot pink bra and the tight tank top her father insisted was a wifebeater barely covered the bra. It was also see-through.
Still, if she were currently at the beach like the women he’d been living with on the set of Cold Feet, she would have on far less than this. Her bikini covered less skin than this bra.
She’d never once seen him judge the women around him on set the way he was eyeing Jodi right now, so it was difficult to know what to make of his reaction.
“I’m not sexist, Jodi,” he gritted out. “I’m concerned about you is all.”
“You’ve never been concerned about Katia when she dressed in three small triangles of material every day for two weeks,” she challenged.
His voice rose. “That’s because I don’t care what Katia wears.” He threw up his hands and then winced and looked away, running a hand over his hair again.
She grinne
d in spite of herself, finding it interesting that he cared more about her attire on the first day they’d met than his wife of two months. Come to think of it, Jodi didn’t believe she’d ever seen Tuck act like he even saw the women on that show. He certainly didn’t judge their clothing, at least not in front of the cameras.
Before Jodi could come up with the perfect retort to taunt Tuck with his implication that he cared about her, he turned and walked away, murmuring. “Damn pigheaded woman. Thinks she’s Rambo or something.”
Jodi smiled at his back as she admired his fine ass. Tight. Muscular. Firm. Jesus.
No matter what her father and Tuck said, she was going to dress in revealing clothing until they caught the dealer. Yes, it drew unsolicited attention that made Jodi recognize how shallow many men could be, but she also suspected it would be effective and pay off one of these days. Besides, based on people’s reaction to her new bar attire, she thought her revealing shirts might actually bring in more customers. If business didn’t pick up soon, it wouldn’t matter if they caught the drug dealer.
When her father returned and headed toward the front door to unlock it, Tuck followed him and then leaned his ass against the stool her father had placed there for that very purpose. Tuck glanced at Jodi with narrowed eyes.
Jodi tried not to read anything into it. It wasn’t as though Tuck was hitting on her. Of course not. Nor could he possibly care about her any more than as Bill Bridgman’s daughter.
Still, she had doubts about the story she kept telling herself. Tuck was definitely keeping an eye on her.
Chapter 4
Tuck was exhausted and cranky as he dragged himself up the stairs to the second-floor apartment he currently shared with Katia. He hadn’t worked that hard in months, not even on the set of Cold Feet. Granted, his job had mostly involved checking IDs and keeping a keen eye out for anything unusual, but the constant stress of paying close attention to every patron wore on him.
And then there was Jodi. It shouldn’t have surprised him to find out she was the best bartender he’d ever seen. She didn’t do anything half-assed. She never missed a beat the entire evening, filling orders for both waitresses and everyone at the bar with an ease that came from years of experience.
He knew from their earlier discussion that she was not only proficient behind the bar, but she also managed all the accounting and inventory. Bill still technically owned the bar, but he was getting older and as he put it—slower. He helped out when the place got too busy, but the rest of the time, he mingled with the regulars. He seemed to be ignoring their financial problems.
As Tuck opened the door to the apartment, he found Katia sitting on the couch in the dark, long legs folded under her, laptop on her thighs, fingers rushing across the keyboard. She glanced up at him and frowned. “Where were you?”
He sighed. Everything they did was a game. Much of it was even suggested each day from the producers to increase ratings. He wasn’t in the mood for a fake fight right now, but he didn’t have a choice. “I told you I was starting my new job tonight.”
She cocked her head to one side, pausing from her frantic typing. “It’s two in the morning.”
“I’m a bouncer. The bar closes at one, Katia.” He shuffled across the living area to the attached kitchen and opened the fridge, returning with a bottle of water.
As he opened it, she spoke again. “Are you drunk?”
He groaned. “No, I’m not drunk. I didn’t drink anything at all. I was working.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Whatever.” And then she bent down to continue typing. “I need to finish this post, and then I’m going to bed.”
“At least I have a real job,” he murmured, remembering the suggested line from his script.
She jerked her gaze back up. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She set the computer aside, unfolded her legs, and jumped to her feet. She was wearing a soft pink tank top, cutoff shorts, and no bra.
Tuck cringed inwardly as he considered the razzing Jodi would give him tomorrow if she was watching. Indeed, Katia had on far less clothing, and she was dressed this way for anyone on the planet to watch. Her nipples were hard points poking out from her pert breasts. He’d suspected her boobs were fake from the moment he met her, though he would never know. He sure wasn’t getting close enough to touch them.
Continuing the script, he waved a hand through the air. “All you do all day is play around on social media. How is that a job?” He knew better. Katia worked long hours perfecting her posts before putting them up for the world to see, but that wasn’t in the script.
She gave him a sharp “ha” and then stepped closer, hands on her hips. “I bet I’m making more money as an influencer than you are as a bouncer.”
The unfortunate part was she was probably right, especially since the show first aired. Her fan base had undoubtedly multiplied exponentially with each episode. Her name recognition alone had companies all over lining up to pay her for a spot on her site.
“Is this a contest now? You want to see who’s making more money? Does it bother you for me to earn less?” he asked, egging her on. This was ridiculous. He wanted to take a shower and go to bed. Not argue with his fake wife.
She suddenly smiled and flung herself at him, plastering her small frame against his so suddenly that he had to take a step back to brace himself. She set her chin on his chest and tipped her head back. “Nope. I think it’s hot.” She leaned her upper body back a few inches and ran a finger down his neck and between his pecs. “Everything about you is hot.” She grabbed his biceps and squeezed them. “Maybe I should come to work with you one day so I can watch you bounce people.”
He smirked, unable to stop himself at the absurdity of her comment. “Bounce people?”
“Yep. Isn’t that what bouncers do?”
He forced a laugh as he set his hands on her hips and eased her off him. He never liked being this close to her, but something about the events of the day made him even more repulsed. He couldn’t stop thinking what if Jodi’s watching?
He had no idea why it bothered him. It shouldn’t. Jodi thought he was an imbecile. Hell, she was probably right. He certainly was tangled up in a ridiculous saga. Until today, he’d ignored the constant dull throb behind his eyes and plowed forward every day, reminding himself about the prize. The money. Money he desperately needed.
Katia righted herself, but continued to trail a finger down his chest toward his stomach. Her voice was sultry when she spoke. “I guess I could finish scheduling my posts tomorrow if you want to go to bed.”
He swallowed. Shit. Shit shit shit.
This was the same game they played every night, for the cameras. Tonight was different. Tonight all he could picture was Jodi. She was probably sitting on her bed with her laptop open, watching him imply he was about to fuck his wife.
And why the hell did that bother him so much?
Shit.
“Mmm.” It was all he could manage to reply as he gave Katia’s hips a brief squeeze and then a peck on the lips. “Go ahead and finish your posts. I need to shower anyway.”
She pouted, sticking out her lower lip dramatically before whining, “Okay, but you’ll wait up for me if you finish first?”
“Sure.” He shot her a smile and then padded from the room, heading for the only room in the apartment that didn’t have cameras. The bedroom. Well, that and the attached bathroom.
It wasn’t until he shut the door that he breathed easier, and then he groaned as he made his way toward the bathroom, entered, and locked the door behind him. This was not new. He locked the bathroom door every time he went in.
Other than for the sake of the camera, he had not kissed Katia. He had never done so with passion, nor had he used tongue. It wasn’t hard to keep his distance. He didn’t like her. She was certainly sexy and attractive, but her personality rubbed him wrong.
Katia, on the other hand, worked pretty hard for the last few months to get him to pay attention to he
r. He suspected it was mostly because she did that with everyone. She wanted people to like her, and she saw him as a challenge. He felt confident she’d been sleeping with at least a few of the actors on the show, but he never had any intention of becoming a notch on her bedpost, no matter how hard she tried or how often she thrust her fake tits at him.
She rarely even shut the bathroom door all the way, let alone locked it. When she showered, she hummed the entire time as if to get his attention. He usually vacated the bedroom altogether.
As he stripped out of his jeans and T-shirt, he sighed. The next few weeks were going to be brutal. Working long hours at the bar and then spending the mornings pretending to be a half-assed husband was already proving to be taxing. He essentially had two full-time jobs. He wasn’t even sure which one was more exhausting.
When steam started filling the room, he climbed into the shower and directly under the hot spray. Eyes closed, he washed his hair and then soaped his body. Was Jodi still watching Katia in the other room? Thoughts of her dimples and wild curls made his dick hard, a dick he’d been neglecting for weeks and would continue to do now.
No way was Tuck going to rub himself off in the shower with Katia possibly on the other side of the door. Never. His cock would have to wait until this arrangement was over.
Hell, he still didn’t know where he might go when the show ended and he lost this apartment. He couldn’t continue to mooch off his friends, sleeping on their couches, forever. Eventually, he needed to find an apartment of his own. That was going to be tough in the Coronado area. Even a studio in this part of California would drain his finances. He needed every dime.
Drawing in a deep breath, he flipped off the water and stepped from the shower into the small bathroom. He dried himself off, gritting his teeth over the erection he sported. Surely Katia had noticed he never got hard around her. He sure didn’t want to leave this bathroom tonight with a hard-on. She would either jump at the opportunity or grow suspicious about his evening.
Hot SEAL, Cold Feet (SEALs in Paradise) Page 2