The name of the club is Bounce. Logan leads me by my fingertips through the back door, but on the way from the street, I see a huge line out front, and a few men about Logan’s size watching the door. This place is nothing like I expected. It’s a lot bigger.
A big, burly guy in an apron stops us as we walk inside the rear entrance and puts a hand in the middle of Logan’s chest. He looks at me and lifts his brow.
Logan starts to sign something and Pete translates. “She’s with me.” Pete sheepishly looks over at me and points a thumb toward Logan. “Well, with him,” Pete admits. “She’s 19,” Pete interprets. The guy motions over a man with a stamp pad and he stamps the word “no” on the back of my hand. I roll my eyes. Seriously?
“It’s a bar sweetheart. I’ll get in all sorts of trouble if someone serves you when they shouldn’t.” He has him stamp Pete’s hand too.
I nod. I understand.
“Is she deaf, too?” he asks.
Logan shakes his head.
I think he says something like “flavor of the night” as he walks away, rolling his eyes. Pete goes with him.
Logan leads me to the end of the bar and shoves a really big guy off his stool. The man teeters, complains, and turns to find Logan standing behind him. The man holds up both hands like he’s surrendering to the cops, turns and walks away. “Why did you that?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You needed a seat.”
He says it like I needed a soda. “But you just shoved him off the chair.”
Logan follows him with his yes. “He didn’t care.”
“He didn’t care because he thought you would kick his butt if he said anything.”
He nods. Like he would kick his butt. Seriously?
“What?” he asks. He pats the stool. I slide onto it slowly and look at him.
“You want me to stay here?” I point to the stool. The bar. The general area.
He nods. He tips my face up so that I look at him. “Don’t drink anything unless the bartender gets it for you. Do you understand?”
Not really, but I nod.
“I’m serious,” he says.
“Where are you going?”
“To work.” He presses his lips to my forehead, holding there for a moment. Then he bends his head and says close to my ear. “Just so you know -- I can still taste you on my lips.” He looks down toward my lap. Heat floods my face. I’m probably as red as a tomato, but I force myself to look into his eyes.
“Wish I could say the same.”
He groans, pushes back from me, winks, and walks away.
I look down at the bar counter, and see the perky blonde who’s making drinks. She shoots me the stink eye and says, “What can I get for you?”
“Root beer?” I ask. She raises a brow, nods, and pours one from the tap on the bar.
“How do you know Logan?” she asks as she slides my drink over to me.
The words “he’s my boyfriend” come unbidden to my lips. But I bite them back. “I’m staying with the boys for a bit.”
Her brows shoot up toward her hairline. “Really?”
I nod, taking a sip of my root beer. “Thanks,” I say absently, pointing toward the drink.
She drops two cherries with stems into it and smiles. “I’m Abby.” She holds out her hand and I take it. She has a firm grip. I like that.
“Kit,” I say. “So, are you one of the thousands of women Logan has slept with?” I ask. I try to make a flippant sound, but if the look on her face is indication, I fail. I don’t really want the answer. But then again, I do.
She laughs. “Honey, I have more respect for myself than that.” She looks at me for a moment as she pours someone else a beer with a perfect head. “You?”
I feel much better about her knowing she hasn’t slept with him. “No. But girl, do I want to.” I force a chuckle that I don’t really feel past my lips.
“He has that effect on all the girls.” She laughs. “Hang in there.”
I don’t want to be like all the girls.
Someone taps the bar in front of her rudely, and she looks up scowling. “Don’t ever bang on my fucking bar again, asshole,” she says, but there’s a smile under her words, I can tell.
“Oh, come on, Abby,” he says. “You know you love it when I bang you.”
Snickers erupt around the bar. He leans over the bar and she stands up on her tiptoes, putting all her weight on her arms, so she can touch her lips to his. She points to me. “Ford, this is Kit.”
Ford looks over at me and smiles.
“Kit came in with Logan,” Abby explains. She shoots him an odd look and he narrows his eyes at her, and then looks over at me.
“Say it ain’t so,” he says with a laugh.
I press my lips together, not sure what he’s insinuating.