When I Need You (Need You #4)

Rowan stood on the other side.

Not the Rowan I saw every day. This Rowan wore a dress that exposed her long neck, smooth shoulders and a great deal of great cleavage. This Rowan was taller in the leopard-print stilettos. This Rowan had softly curled hair, bright red lips and some smoky-colored stuff on her eyelids that hinted those hazel eyes held all kinds of dirty secrets.

I’d been so busy eyeballing her that I hadn’t noticed she’d been doing the same thing to me.

At the time I said, “What the hell, Coach?” Rowan said, “Damn, Lund.”

Nolan said, “Who’s at the door?” before he barged in next to me.

I watched him leer at her—the fucking pervert. Starting at the tips of her red toenails in those sexy-ass shoes, up her shins, pausing to gawk at her muscular thighs where the hem of the black dress ended. Then up over her curvy hips, briefly taking in the nipped-in shape of her waist, lingering way-too-fucking-long on those sweet tits, to finally rest on the breathtaking beauty of her face.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured in that seductive tone. “Hey. I know you. You cheer for the Vikings.”

Jesus, really? Even Nolan had noticed Rowan?

Not everyone is as blind as you, dude.

Well, the blinders had come off and it was on.

“Actually, you’re the best cheerleader they’ve got,” he continued. Then he elbowed me out of the way—seriously, he elbowed me out of my own damn doorway to get to her—and offered his hand and a charming smile. “Nolan Lund.”

“My much older cousin,” I inserted, and gave him a little shove out of the way. Okay, maybe not such a little shove because he had to catch himself on the wall.

But I only had eyes for her.

With my hands gripping the inside of the doorframe so I wouldn’t get all grabby-handed with her, I said, “You.”

“Uh. What about me?”

“You’re so smokin’ hot you’ve shorted out the logic center of my brain.” Letting my arms bear my forward weight, I leaned close enough to her to take a bite out of that full lower lip. “That pretty, perfect red mouth of yours. Christ. It’s like a beacon luring me in.”

She cocked her head. “How many shots of tequila have you had?”

“None.” I grinned at her. “Seeing you is a shot of pure sexual adrenaline, baby.”

“Jens, man, give it a rest.” Nolan yanked me backward—the dude was way stronger than he looked. “Forgive my cousin’s manners, he plays with his balls for a living.” Nolan stepped into the hallway. “I didn’t catch your name, Red Hot.”

“It’s Rowan Michaels.”

Just then Ash sidestepped me. “Rowan!” He whistled. “Been a long time, but, doll face, you look as spectacular as ever.”

Of course freakin’ Ash knew Rowan too.

“Thanks, Ash. Good to see you again.” Her gaze zipped between the three of us. “Lotta Lunds in one place.”

“We’re on our way out.” Ash smiled at her. “But there’s always room for a gorgeous lady.” He accorded her hot, sexy body an appreciative once-over. “Come out with us. Unless you already had plans.”

Rowan regarded me for a moment. “Actually, it appears my plans fell through. My son is having an overnight at a friend’s house and I’m—”

“In luck because you’re coming out with us,” Nolan said.

“Where are you going?”

“A bar downtown,” I said. “So if it’s not your thing—”

“Maybe it is my thing,” she retorted. “Give me a minute to grab my phone and my purse and I’ll be right back.”

As soon as her apartment door closed, I had Nolan crowded against the wall. “Rowan is off-fucking-limits. You touch her? You’ll need your tailor to sew pieces of your body back together, not just your suit. Feel me?”

“Et tu, Jensen?” Nolan sighed. “Fine. I get it.”

“Mr. Men’s-Health-meets-Abercrombie off the radar leaves more ladies for us, Nolan.”

“True.” To me, he said, “Go grab the hat you insist on wearing. And your keys. Rowan can ride with me. Ash can copilot for you.”

I didn’t want Rowan riding with Nolan.

Nolan got in my face. “I’d never poach.”

“I know that. It’s just . . . this is new, all right? I don’t know what I’m doing with her.”

“It appears whatever you’re doing is working. Red Hot couldn’t keep her eyes off you.” He sighed. “And it pains me to say this, but I don’t think it has a damn thing to do with how much better you’re dressed tonight.”

? ? ?


Just to be a smart-ass I grabbed an Abercrombie ball cap I’d never worn.

The bar was located in the Mill District in a cool three-story brick building, sandwiched between two other brick buildings. The sign above the door to the bar read BORDERLINE in vintage pink neon. Before we went in, I snagged Ash by the arm. “If you decide to renovate, call Walker. This is his dream project.”

“Already on our radar,” he said.

On the way to the bar, Ash hadn’t tried to give me advice about Rowan, which I appreciated. If my siblings had seen the interaction between Rowan and me, I’d get an earful.

My thoughts scrolled back to the conversation with Dallas when she’d mentioned her concern about Ash. Maybe he put up a great front, but he didn’t act miserable. In fact, he seemed more relaxed than usual.

He caught me staring at him. His eyes narrowed. “What’d she say to you?”

Maybe he’d inherited the same sensory perception as Dallas. “She indicated you’d been living a ‘joyless existence,’ which seemed a harsh assessment, but I didn’t push her for details. I figured if you wanted us to know, you’d tell us.” I pinned him with a hard look. “Right? No one has to be an island in this family. Thought we established that after everything went down with Jaxson.”

Ash scrubbed his hands over his face. “We did. And I appreciate the reminder. It’s why Nolan and I showed up at your place tonight. Not to sound like whiny pussies, but we felt out of the loop with this camp thing. Everyone else was involved. That’s also when Nolan and I realized we’d been secretive about this bar to protect Jax. Turns out, Jax doesn’t care. So you’re the first Lund we’ve brought in, so to speak.”

“Cool. I may need a job if this football thing doesn’t pan out this year.”

“If it doesn’t work out, not to go all woo-woo and shit, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Speaking of woo-woo . . . don’t think I didn’t catch—football pun for ya—you deflecting the conversation from your sister’s concerns about your mental well-being.”

“She’s a master at deflection. The girl’s got secrets. Ugly ones.” His jaw tightened. “Ones she should’ve come to me about. Instead, I had to get an earful from a pissed-off Russian. So what Dallas thinks she ‘saw’ in me the past year? Partially true. But she confused unhappiness with controlled rage.”

What the holy hell was going on?

“I can’t get into the details. It’s better that you don’t know”—he flashed his teeth—“from a legal standpoint. The good news? Dallas is . . . well, Dallas again. I don’t have to keep my distance from her now that some time has passed.”