“I’d never let that happen in my bar,” Mack said.
“Let what happen?”
He pointed with this beer. “They’re clearly drunk already. It’s just asking for trouble.”
He felt the weight of her stare. He looked down. “What?”
“You’re very ethical.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“Wealth and morality rarely go together in my experience.”
He shifted to get a better look at her. “What is it with you and rich people?”
“I just don’t trust them.”
“Why? I mean, yeah, there are a lot of bad people out there making tons of money in shady ways—”
“And rigging the system to make sure no one else gets ahead.”
“—but not all wealth is a sign of bad character.”
“But often it is.”
He raised an eyebrow, his desire to get to the bottom of things overruling the voice of common sense telling him to drop it. “This is about your father, isn’t it?”
She smiled. “I didn’t want to talk about him before, and I don’t want to talk about him now. Nice try.”
“Come on. You gotta give me something.”
She shook her head and looked back at the door.
“We gotta talk about something. What else are we going to do until Jessica gets here?”
Her eyes went as round as a Disney princess’s. “Kiss me.”
His bottle paused halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”
“I said kiss me, you idiot.”
Her hands grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him closer. He nearly fell over but caught himself with a hand against the wall. “Geez, honey. You could at least buy me dinner first.”
She smashed her lips against his.
Holy shit, this woman could kiss. He’d kissed enough women to know when someone knew what she was doing, and she did. He was a sucker for a good kisser. Some men liked women who could pretzel it in bed, but give him a woman who knew how to make love with her lips alone, and he was a goner.
But Jesus, this was crazy. What the hell was she doing? He pulled back, panting. “You really don’t want to talk about your father, do you?”
Her eyes darted to look over his shoulder. “Royce’s goons are here.”
“What?” He tried to twist around to look, but she grabbed his face in her hand and turned him back. His cheeks were smooshed between her fingers. Surprisingly strong fingers. Kneading dough must be an actual workout or something.
“Royce has goons? What are you talking about?” It came out muffled, because his lips were smashed together.
“His security guards,” she explained, not even slightly out of breath. How was that possible? He felt like he’d just run ten miles.
He tried to turn again, and this time she let him. He spotted them instantly. “Those two big dudes by the door?”
“Yep.”
“They look . . .” Mack paused. “Hungry.”
“I don’t know how much Royce feeds them.”
“What the hell are they doing here?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
The two men started to scan the room. “Shit,” Liv hissed, and then she did it again. She kissed him.
Only this time he was prepared. And if they were going to kiss, they were going to kiss. Mack palmed the back of her head and went deep, angling her face so he could slant his mouth over hers properly. She tensed against him but only for a moment. Then she sank into him. Melted. Her mouth opened wider, letting him in. Her hands opened flat against his chest.
And shoved him back. “They’re not looking,” she said. “We need to get out while we can.”
Mack blinked. What? Right. The goons. Right. He looked over his shoulder. The two men had their backs to the room, watching the door instead. Mack grabbed Liv’s hand and tugged her out of the booth.
“Maybe there’s a back door,” she said.
They moved quickly down the dingy hallway next to the booth and swore when it only led to a single bathroom. A sign above the door read PEE AND POOP HERE.
“Dammit,” Mack said, running his hand over his hair.
“Can you see them?” Liv asked.
Mack crept to the end of the hallway and ducked his head around the corner. They were turning around again and—FUCK. “Get in the bathroom,” he barked.
Liv didn’t wait to be told twice. She yanked open the creaky door and ducked inside. Mack followed, turned the lock on the door, and sagged against it.
Liv looked up at him, hand over her nose. “Oh my God. We’re going to need tetanus shots.”
Someone banged on the door outside.
They each went breathless. Mack reached over and shut off the light. Darkness seemed to make the smell worse.
The person knocked again. “Are you done in there yet?” a young woman asked. “I have to pee.”
Mack turned the light back on and turned around. He clicked the lock. Liv’s hands covered his. “What are you doing?”
“The girl’s gotta pee.”
“It could be a trap! What if they asked her to do it?”
Mack shrugged her off and opened the door just enough to poke his head out. The girl was bouncing up and down. She saw him and let out a “Thank God.”
He held up his hand. “Do you see two big guys wearing black T-shirts out there?”
“I’m gonna pee my pants,” she whined.
“Just tell me where they are, and then we’ll let you in.”
The girl stomped her foot, walked away, and then came back. “They’re standing by the door.”
Mack opened the door and let her in. She stumbled, and he caught her around the waist. When she saw Liv, her eyes widened. “I’m not into threesomes.”
Liv rolled her eyes. “We’re hiding from those guys out there.”
The girl groaned and doubled over. “I gotta go bad.”
Liv pushed her toward the single stall that hid the offensive toilet. “We won’t watch.”
“I can’t pee with you in here!”
“You’re wearing a sorority sweatshirt. You expect me to believe you’ve never pissed in front of strangers before?”
Her eyebrows pinched together in a well-groomed pout. “Not sober.”
“You expect me to believe you’re sober?”
The girl giggled and swayed. “Don’t listen.”
Mack covered his ears, squeezed his eyes shut, and faced the corner as the girl shut herself in the stall. This would go down as one of the ten weirdest moments of his life. When he heard the toilet flush, he let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. A moment later, the girl walked to the door. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
Mack winked. “I don’t piss and tell.”
The girl giggled and walked out.
He turned around to find Liv glaring up at him. “Is there anyone you don’t flirt with?”
“Jealous?”
“You wish.”
“We gonna talk about that kiss?”
She gave him her back. “Nope.”
“Coward.”
“What’s there to talk about? It was a fake kiss, and now it’s over.”
He bent until his mouth brushed her ear. “It was a good kiss, and you’re a horrible liar if you expect me to believe that you were unaffected by it.”
She elbowed him. “You’ve read too many romance novels.”
“And you haven’t read enough.”
Someone knocked again. Liv whipped around and slapped her hand over his mouth.
But it was just the girl again. “They just left, in case you were wondering,” she said.
“Let’s go,” Liv said, throwing open the door.
Mack stopped her at the end of the ha
llway. “Let me look just to be sure.”
He peeked around the corner again. More people had arrived, making the small room seem a lot smaller. But there was no sign of the hulking men. Liv walked up behind him. “Well?”
“I think it’s safe.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her beside him. Adrenaline settled, and he finally voiced the nagging question hanging in the air. “How the hell did they know we’d be here?”
“Maybe they weren’t looking for us. Maybe they can see Jessica’s Facebook too.”
“Why would they follow Jessica?”
“I don’t know. Royce is unhinged.”
Mack tried to duck around a group of drunken assholes that had date rape written all over them. “Excuse me,” he said to one of them.
The asshole swung around, all belligerent and wasted. “Excuse you.”
For fuck’s sake. “Just trying to get around you, pal.”
“Yeah, well, find another way, pal.”
One of Asshole’s friends noticed Liv. “Hey, darlin’,” he slurred as he swayed into her personal space. “Want to party with ush?”
“Back it up,” Mack ordered, blood pressure rising.
“Fuck off, man. I’m talking to her.”
Liv stepped forward. “And now I’m telling you to back it up.”
“Ignore my friend,” another of the guys said. “He’s just drunk.”
“You don’t say,” Liv deadpanned.
“Come on, now,” he said. “Why so mad?”
“Maybe because we’re just trying to get out of here and a group of walking Tinder fuckboys decides to be assholes.”
Asshole Number One sneered. “God, what a cunt.”
Mack saw red. He grabbed the guy’s arm, twisted it, and had him chest-to-bar in one second flat in a move he’d learned as a young bouncer. The guy let out a bellow of pain, and the crowd around them gasped and jostled to watch or get out of the way.
“Apologize. Now.”
“Get the fuck off me, man.”
Liv tugged on his arm. “He’s not worth it, Mack. Let’s go.”
Mack gave him another shove and stood. Asshole swung his arm around, missed Mack, and instead hit a pitcher of beer, sending it sloshing onto the floor and all over a woman standing nearby.
She swore and smacked him.
And hell officially broke loose.
“Mack! Watch out!”
Mack looked up to find Liv crawling over the bar. She pointed, but it wasn’t in time. He felt the bash of a fist against his jaw, and lights exploded behind his right eye. Mack stumbled back but righted himself quickly enough to ward off another blow from one of Asshole’s friends.
The next thing he knew, Liv was standing on the bar, yelling at the cowering bartenders to call the cops.
“Get down!” he yelled at her.
Asshole Number One took another swing, and Mack hit him in the gut. He doubled over and went down on one knee. People screamed and ran. Jesus Christ, what a fucking nightmare. He’d never had a fight in one of his own clubs. Never. Two bouncers shoved people out of the way and ran into the fray. Just in time to hold back one of Asshole’s friends from going after Mack again. But not fast enough to stop the two women who were still fighting off to the side from knocking over a barstool and wiping out on the floor.
Mack reached out to break them up, yelling once again at Liv to get down from the bar. She did, but not in the way he’d intended. She leaped down and grabbed the arm of one of the women.
“Knock it off,” she yelled, trying to yank them apart.
“Let me handle this, Liv,” Mack barked.
She ignored him, because of course she did.
The women’s boyfriends got into it next, shoving and swearing and knocking shit around. Liv tried again to haul one of the women up, but the woman yanked her arm away and instead sent Liv stumbling backward into the warring boyfriends. One of them whipped around and accidentally elbowed Liv in the cheek.
Things sort of happened in slow motion after that. Liv slipped and fell onto her ass. Mack shoved one of the assholes out of the way, leaped over the two women on the ground, and grabbed Liv under the armpits. He swept her up fireman-style and ignored her protests as he carried her out of the melee.
“What the hell, Mack? Put me down!”
“Knock it off,” he growled, kicking open the swinging door to the outside. He set her on her feet and immediately cupped her cheeks. “Christ, are you okay?”
She tried to push his hands away. “I’m fine—”
“Tilt your head higher.”
The streetlight illuminated a swollen red splotch just below her eye. Mack swore. “What the hell were you thinking, Liv?”
“Me? What the hell is wrong with you? You started a bar brawl!”
“I was protecting you!”
“From what? Bad language?”
“He called you a cunt.”
“I was a bartender for three years, Mack. I know how to handle guys like that.” She threw her hands in the air. “God, I was actually starting to like you, and then you pull this overbearing macho bullshit!”
Even as his pulse raced and his hands shook, a detached part of his brain was just like Del and the Russian, casting bets over what it would take to strip away the veneer of perfect romance hero to reveal an out-of-control alpha male, and he’d finally found it. He opened his mouth, and out came a tone of voice he’d never, ever used with a woman before.
“I swear to fucking God, Liv, you are the single most frustrating woman I’ve ever known.”
“And you think you’re one of the good guys behaving like this?”
Her words hit their mark. Adrenaline collided with anger and lust and regret into one combustible mix that took control of his senses. No, he wasn’t one of the good guys. Not right now. Not when the rise and fall of her rapid breathing made her T-shirt spread tightly across her breasts. Not when he realized she was ogling him right back. Not when the sidewalk suddenly felt too small and too big at once.
His hand reached out, and his thumb wiped a drop of liquid from her collarbone. Water? Beer? He didn’t know. Her lips parted, her breaths quickened. Then his thumb traced a slow path of exploration up the column of her throat, along her jaw, until it finally came to rest on her bottom lip.
They moved in a blur, and it was only that tiny bit of recognition—that she had moved too—that allowed him to give in to the fire. His mouth covered hers, and without a moment of hesitation she dove her fingers in his hair and held him there. She smelled like rum and tasted like a mistake, and he didn’t fucking care. Driven by some painful urgency he neither recognized nor understood, he let out a growl, wrapped an arm around her waist, and lifted her ass to press her against the wall of the bar. Her legs widened, welcoming him into the space between.
Liv gripped his face and pulled him in. In an instant his body went hot and tight. She gripped his arms to steady herself or maybe to stop him from going full caveman. He changed the angle, and she opened wide beneath him. His tongue swept inside her mouth.
The door suddenly swung open, and a crowd stumbled out, yelling that the cops were coming.
Liv went rigid in his arms and pulled a Heisman stiff-arm to push him off her. She dropped to the ground, her feet landing on top of his. Mack turned away, hands in his hair. Oh shit. Oh shit, what did he just do?
“We need to go,” she said.
“Liv,” he rasped, turning. “I’m sorry. I’ve never—”
She brushed past him and was headed to the parking lot. “We need to get out of here.”
Mack jogged to keep up. “Wait. We need to talk about this.”
“No, we don’t.” She picked up the pace and stomped to his car. He beeped it unlocked and held open her door for her. She slid in without a word.
He got behind the wheel and
looked at her. “Liv.”
“Just drive.”
With a muttered curse, he pushed the ignition button and jammed it into drive. Silence reigned for ten full minutes before he finally caught his breath.
He glanced over. “We should get you checked out. You were hit pretty hard.”
“So were you.”
“I’m fine.”
“So am I.”
“Dammit, Liv. I’m trying to apologize.”
She snorted. “For what?”
“For . . . what I did. Kissing you like that. Without permission.”
She ran a hand over her hair. “I was an enthusiastic participant, Mack. Don’t get your guilt panties in a wad.”
“Liv—”
She held up her hand. “Enough. Just drive me to my car.”
She’d met him at Temple, and her car was parked behind the bar in the employee lot. He pulled in and killed the engine. Neither of them moved.
“Can we please talk about this?”
Liv opened her door, got out, and then bent down to look back in. “Ask Noah if he can figure out how the goons found us.”
She slammed the door shut and left. What the fuck had just happened?
And how many times was she going to leave him alone with that question?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
This was a bad day to discover she was out of foundation.
Liv peered into the bathroom mirror the next morning and tilted her face into the light. Nope. Not a trick of shadows. She had a bona fide black eye. Concealer hid the worst of it, but anyone who looked at her directly would know she’d either been in a fight or had gotten the worst sleep ever last night.
Actually, both were true thanks to Mack. Christ, that man could kiss. Not that she was surprised. He probably had enough experience to write a how-to manual. Of course, she wasn’t sure which step in the instructions would include leap off her like you’ve been electrocuted and shudder as if you need a shower. If she’d built a shield of armor around herself over the years, his reaction was why. She should’ve been used to disappointment and the sting of rejection, but she wasn’t. That was a fresh wound over an old scar.
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