“I had my reasons.”
“I’m sure you did, and I’m sure they’re valid, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t still a dick move. Lucky for you, though, I’ve been a dick a time or two in my life, so I know it can happen. However, I do insist you buy me a beer. To remind me why you’re my friend.”
Just knowing Daryl still considered them friends had Caleb buying a pitcher and telling the waitress to keep them coming. And they weren’t cheap pitchers, seeing as how they were ordering them in a strip club.
The Itty Bitty Club—featuring the ittiest thongs and most fabulous titties around—resembled every other exotic dancing bar with tables with enough space between them to give a man a bit of room—so the dancers would come by and offer a little more personal time. The place was cleaner than most. The scarred wood surfaces might have seen a cloth before he sat down. No sticky spots or moisture rings to be seen.
Just don’t touch under the table.
The chairs all had armrests, for the entertaining ladies’ benefit. It gave them something to hold on to as they lap danced for a large bill or two. Panties on and no body parts grinding didn’t mean a gal couldn’t straddle the chair and air hump.
Not Caleb’s thing, in public at least.
Having gone to strips joints more than a couple of times, Caleb knew the best spot was by the bar, chatting up the usually pretty bartender while watching the show on stage in the mirror.
His buddy, however, had other plans.
“Let’s get up close,” Daryl had said, leading the way to the stage.
“Why? Seen one, seen them all.”
Daryl kept walking and found a vacant spot.
Caleb followed and dropped into the open chair across from his bud.
This is as close as you can get.
Sitting in pervert’s row meant Caleb had a great glimpse of the action on stage. Daryl quite enjoyed the show, calling out to the girls, apparently knowing most by name. After a while, Caleb realized he knew quite a few of those gals, too.
“Is that so-and-so?” followed by a “yup” formed the bulk of several conversations. Relaxing. No pressure. Some of his tension eased.
I’m safe here.
Or so he thought until Daryl broke the pattern with a muttered, “Shit. She wasn’t supposed to be working tonight.”
“Who are you talking about?” Caleb no sooner said the words than awareness made him stiffen. A tingle swept across his senses, a familiar, longed-for touch.
Uh-oh. It couldn’t be her. No way. No way could he still feel her in that intimate way he used to so many years ago.
I must be wrong. I mean think, idiot, she would never work in a place like this. Renny was always so damned classy. And let’s not forget her daddy would never let her.
Wrong.
What he thought he knew had changed, but Renny hadn’t.
Holy fuck, she’s more beautiful than I remembered.
Long blonde hair swept into a ponytail showing off the long column of her neck. A figure a little more round than before, but utterly sexy. As to her face… A few years of maturing had taken her soft girlish features and sculpted them. She’s a woman now.
A ridiculously attractive one, and for the first time since they’d entered the strip club, Caleb had to drop his hands into his lap—so he could mash his fist against his daring-to-stir cock.
Stay down.
Seriously. Getting an erection for her was probably perverse. Titties bouncing all over the place, practically in his face, did nothing, but seeing the one woman in the world who probably hated him, and was clothed to boot, turned him on?
At this point, he should note that while Renny did wear clothes, they were exceedingly sexy and skimpy. In his view, they were not appropriate for this bar—or public viewing.
What does she think she’s doing strutting around in that tight-fitting crop top? A shirt that molded to her perfect handful of tits. And who thought those itty-bitty jean shorts she wore, that barely covered her full ass, were appropriate work attire?
Doesn’t she know how sexy she fucking looks? What a temptation she poses?
Why the hell did he care so much? Agitated, he turned his attention back to the reason he was feeling the tension creeping back in. Daryl had done this.
Caleb growled. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
Hands raised, Daryl shook his head. “Sorry, dude. I honestly didn’t know she’d be here. She doesn’t usually work here Fridays.”
Usually? “Are you saying she works here on a regular basis?”
“Has been since not long after the baby.”
He choked on his sip of beer. “Baby?”
“Dude, did you not keep up on any of the news in town?”
“No.” Because a part of him didn’t want to know.
“Lots of stuff has been happening.”
So he kept being reminded. “Who’s she hooking up with?” Because he totally wanted to plant his fist in his face. Rip into him and kill him.
He ignored the suggestion. He most certainly suffered from a green problem, but it wasn’t jealousy.