by Cat Johnson
“Did you find anything yet?”
Hadn’t Shane told the man to keep his distance at the club before he blew his cover? He grabbed a glass and packed it with ice. Pouring, he kept his voice low. “No, sir. Not yet.”
Monroe digested that. “All right. Keep me informed.”
“I’ll contact you.” Shane thrust the glass at him.
He frowned at it. “I didn’t order this.”
“No? Sorry, my mistake. There’d be no other reason for you to be here at the bar talking to me if not to order a drink.” Shane stressed that point as best he could in this public venue.
Monroe finally got the message, grunting a “thanks” as he grabbed the glass, eyed who was nearby, and wandered back to his cronies.
Working undercover for amateurs had it challenges. Shane sighed and had gone back to wiping the bar when he caught two of the clubs’ worst flirts giving him the eye again.
The Monroe girl had been sitting with them for most of the night. She didn’t seem to fit with that crowd. Then again, maybe he’d misjudged her. What the hell did he really know about any of these people?
Shane glanced at the table again and the Smith woman winked at him. Yeah, as if he was going to be some privileged princess’ piece of meat for an hour so she could go home to her sexless marriage satisfied. Not that the men weren’t fucking around as much as the women. And Shane, for the price of a twenty-dollar bill thrown in his direction, was supposed to become suddenly blind to that even when it happened right under his nose. He’d pocket the tip without qualm, thinking that they were getting away cheap. That their wives, when they eventually got tired of their shitty marriages and hired a professional to trail their cheating spouses, would pay more like a hundred fifty an hour plus expenses. Shane should know. More times than he could count, he’d sat in a dark car with camera and coffee in hand, watching the time tick by as his billable hours grew larger.
He watched as the Monroe girl talked gaily with the Johnston boy now. Another thing that didn’t quite fit. That would be a shame of monumental proportions, wasting that woman on some scrawny, rich guy, but that was most likely what would happen. Like married like.
The Monroe girl and the Johnston boy. Shane realized he was jealous of the skinny humpback. Wasn’t that a joke? Playing servant to a bunch of snobs was starting to wear on him.
Sighing, he told himself it wouldn’t be too much longer and he’d be done with his assignment. Then he’d be out of this gig.
Unfortunately, not soon enough. Shane looked up and stifled a groan. The slutty Smith woman was sashaying herself over to the bar, making sure her shoulders were held back so her fake boobs led the way like heat-seeking missiles aimed straight for him. For the sake of self-preservation, Shane pasted on a blank look and kept his eyes above her neckline while steeling himself with a deep, fortifying breath.
A predatory smile twisted the collagen-pumped lips of Mrs. Seekie Smith, wife of Sloan Smith, account number S55, who drank Belvedere brand vodka with club soda and extra lime and, obviously orally fixated, chewed her straws relentlessly. The woman might possibly be considered beautiful if—and Shane considered that a big if—the ugly inside didn’t shine through the cosmetic surgery so brightly.
She ran one long, manicured and most likely fake like her boobs, nail across the top of his hand, sending an involuntary and unwelcome shiver down his spine. This woman could teach the mob a few things about intimidation.
“Hi there,” she slithered.
Shane returned the greeting with a curt nod and said, in hopes of reminding the woman of her marital status, “Mrs. Smith, what can I do for you?”
The minute the offer left his lips and a sly smile curled hers, he regretted the non-specific nature of that question. He really didn’t want to reinforce her perverse assumption he was willing to do anything she wanted.
“The usual,” the snake replied, totally confident that she was unforgettable in every way.
Pulling off an Academy Award winning performance, Shane frowned and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head slowly as if searching his memory and coming up blank. “Um. I’m sorry. What was that you’re drinking again?”
He had to dig deep to control the smile threatening his own lips at the shock and annoyance that crossed her face. Okay, so it was immature pretending he didn’t remember what she drank just to put her in her place, but it was fun.
With a scowl that seemed much more fitting than her earlier smile, she informed him curtly, “Belvedere, soda, extra lime.”
Shane nodded and poured the drink. “Anything else…um, to drink?” Shit, he’d almost done it again.
Seekie Smith sniffed and then smiled slyly, leaning closer to him. “I should get Jax a drink too. Maybe that would get the stick out of her ass.”
“Jax?” He raised a brow. That was a name he hadn’t heard before.
“Mmm hmm. The blonde who was just up here. The Monroes’ daughter.” Seekie waved a hand to indicate the table where the Monroe girl—Jax—had just taken her seat again. “She’s a bit of a cold fish, you know? I mean, obviously, since she caught her husband in bed with another woman, she must not have been doing the job right herself.”
And she was supposedly this Jax woman’s friend? “I’m very sorry to hear that.” That was the absolute truth. Shane never felt happy to hear about a marriage failing, no matter whose it was. Although, since Jax was already chatting up Doc Johnston’s grandson, he supposed she’d gotten over her heartbreak by now.
Shane waited patiently for Seekie in her slinky dress to order another drink, or not, he didn’t care, but instead, she leaned in even closer. Shane’s gaze shot to her husband, not ten feet from them, as Seekie hissed, “You know, I’m the opposite of Jax in that department. If you ever want to find out how hot things can get, let me know.”
Resisting the urge to pull back and put some distance between them, Shane shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
That elicited a tinkling laugh from the heiress, loud enough so that a few heads turned to look. Stupid woman. Why didn’t she just reach into his fruit tray and lob a maraschino cherry at her husband’s head so he’d notice her flirting with the help—then again, maybe that was exactly the point.
“Business? I wouldn’t exactly call this,” she indicated both him and the bar with a swirl of her diamond-laden fingers, “a business. But when you come to your senses and change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Yeah, insulting a man’s profession was a real turn-on. He was getting hard for her already. Oh well. If nothing else, this job would teach him humility. That was for certain. Shane bit his tongue and smiled sweetly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Seekie Smith paled, turned, and slithered away, back to the nest of vipers from whence she’d come.
Shane smiled at the reaction to the “ma’am” line as he added the drink to her previous chit behind the bar. Yeah, he wouldn’t be getting that fifty dollar bill as a tip like last week when she’d come on to him. He supposed since he had never put out for her the last time she tried to buy sex from him, he couldn’t have expected another fifty now anyway.
One of the waiters walked by. “Hey, Miguel. I gotta run to the supply closet for some stuff. Could you keep an eye on the bar for me?”
“Sure thing.”
Shane ducked under the bar and emerged on the other side just as Jax stood again, her ass accentuated very nicely by her silk dress. Damn. He shook his head to clear the vision of her naked from his mind and headed for the storeroom.
The other side of the building was nice and quiet compared to the action in the dining room and main bar. Of course, tomorrow morning when he opened the pool bar and the coffee shop was in full swing serving lunch to the golfers, the situation would be reversed. That was when, in between mixing frozen drinks for the over-baked, bikini-clad members, Shane longed for the peace and quiet he found when he escaped to set up the main bar before dinner service.
In the
storeroom, he grabbed another bottle of Grey Goose since he was getting low and didn’t dare run out or risk the wrath of Mrs. Monroe. He picked up a few more bottles of the house wine while he was there too. Arms loaded, Shane managed to get out his key and relock the door. He even managed to negotiate his way through the dim hallway with no problem until none other than Jax Monroe herself crashed head on into him on her way out of the coffee shop ladies’ room.
He cringed as a bottle of red wine slipped from his grasp, bounced on the beige carpet and thankfully, didn’t break.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Let me help you.” She bent over and he got a nice view of twin cream-colored globes when she picked up the bottle.
No bra. Very nice. “It’s okay. It didn’t break.”
“You know, they should really make liquor come in plastic bottles so they won’t break.” She looked very proud of herself for that suggestion.
He hated to burst her bubble. “Some of the cheap stuff does come in plastic bottles.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know. You’re Grey Goose’s daughter. I’m sure there’s never been a cheap bottle of alcohol allowed in your house.” He smiled at his little joke. She didn’t. “Sorry. That wasn’t meant to be an insult or anything.”
Jax nodded but still didn’t look happy. “I know.”
Shane changed the subject. “So what are you doing all the way over here in the dark?”
“I needed to get away from the, uh…noise.”
He laughed. “I know the dining room and the bar get noisy, I just didn’t think the ladies’ room did too.”
Jax lowered her eyes. “You’d be surprised.”
Something was up with her, and for some insane reason, he wanted to know what. “Hey, how about a glass of wine?”
Her gaze met his and she hesitated for a moment. “Sure. Why not? I just happen to have some right here.” She laughed and raised the bottle she still held.
“Yes, you do.” It was good to hear her laugh. Shane smiled and led them on a route he knew too well to the darkened pool bar. There were a few emergency lights on throughout this side of the building. Those and the glow from the exit sign next to the bar provided just enough illumination for him to see. He unloaded his arms and then felt in the drawer for the corkscrew while Jax set the bottle on the top of the bar. “You wanna hand me a couple of glasses? Right there hanging up.”
She nodded. Reaching above her head, she grabbed two stemmed glasses and brought them to him. “These are huge.”
“There’s no rule that says you have to fill them all the way up. Of course, there’s no rule that says you can’t either.” Shane grinned, pouring a generous amount. He handed one to her, then took the other for himself.
Jax held hers in the air. “Let’s drink to… Hmm, I seem to be toast-less at the moment.”
For some reason, he found that very sad. “Everyone has something to toast to. How about this? To meeting new people.”
Their eyes met again and she nodded.
“Perfect. To meeting new people.” They clinked to that and each took a sip. Then she took a second swallow. “Not bad. It’s pretty good, actually.”
“I know, but half of these rich snobs won’t drink it simply because it’s not expensive.” Shane remembered who he was talking to, too late. “Um, sorry. No offense.”
“None taken. I’m sure it’s totally true.” Jax took another sip and sighed. “I should probably get back before I’m missed.”
He was probably being missed too. He wished she’d ask him if he cared because right now, he didn’t. Besides, she still looked like she needed some time away from the crowd. “We haven’t been gone that long.”
“I guess not.” She didn’t move, obviously delaying going back as long as possible since it hadn’t taken all that much to persuade her to his way of thinking. She took another swallow of wine and he noticed for the first time her hand was trembling.
Shane splashed another inch of burgundy liquid into her glass. “You know what bartenders are good for?”
“Besides hooking me up with wine when the bar is closed?” She smiled and raised her glass in a toast to him.
Shane nodded. “Besides that. We’re really good at listening.”
“I have heard that.” She didn’t elaborate so he pushed a little further.
“If I’m overstepping, just tell me to shut up, but I’m really wondering what, besides the supposed noise, had you over here hiding in the dark.”
She glanced up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Shane.”
“Well, Shane, yes, you are overstepping.” She sighed. “But you may have noticed I didn’t tell you to shut up.”
“I figured you’d just report me to management later.” He shrugged. It wasn’t like he was really a bartender and needed this job or anything. Though he truly didn’t want to offend Jax, and not just because she was hot as hell and he was picturing sliding into her, either.
“No. I would never do that.” She laughed again and somehow managed to make it the saddest sound he’d ever heard. “I went into the other ladies’ room first, the one by the dining room. I overheard some of the women inside gossiping about me. My divorce. My cheating husband. Everything. I’m sure you’ve already heard all about it.”
He had, from her supposed friend no less, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.
“That sucks. I’m really sorry.” Hell, he’d already broken most of the rules of this bogus job anyway. Shane took another bold step and laid his hand over hers. To his surprise, she turned hers over and laced her fingers through his.
“Thanks.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
That elicited another bitter laugh but not an actual answer. “I really better get back.”
He kept possession of her hand when she went to pull away. “Not until you tell me what you were thinking when I asked you what I could do to help.”
Jax shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because saying it out loud, even thinking it, makes me exactly the kind of person I never want to become.”
“A burden shared is half as heavy.”
“Bartender wisdom?”
“Yup. Tell me.” Shane squeezed her fingers.
After a moment of consideration, Jax finally answered. “I was thinking how some hot, mindless sex with a man like you would probably make me feel a hell of a lot better about so many things.”
With that, she disengaged her hand from his, picked up her wine and sauntered off into the dark, leaving him behind, speechless and more than a little hard.
He had asked, and he’d gotten one hell of an answer. “Damn.”
Chapter Three
Shane usually prided himself on doing any job well, no matter how small. He hadn’t tonight. One encounter with Jax Monroe had shot his concentration all to hell. He’d even grabbed the incorrect bottle from the rack and poured Jax’s mother the wrong vodka. When he realized the mistake too late, he sent it out with the waiter anyway rather than toss it and waste a perfectly good drink. Spitefully he really enjoyed it when, just as he suspected, Grey Goose never noticed the difference.
Now, thankfully, this day was over. The work portion anyway. He had a feeling he was in for a long night alone in his bed, thinking of Jax and the tantalizing suggestion of hot, mindless sex she’d dropped so casually before she’d left him standing alone in the dark. That scene would have been worthy of one of those true sex stories he’d read in some of the hotter men’s magazines, only then it would have actually ended with some actual sex. Instead, Shane’s night was ending with nothing more than sore feet and a shirt covered in assorted bar scum.
Heading for the employee lot, he fished his keys out of his pocket and was about to unlock the door when a figure stepped out of the shadows. Training kicked in and had Shane reaching for his ankle holster, until a soft, feminine voice said, “Hi.”
Whew. Th
at had been a close one. He let the key ring hit the ground loudly, and then made a show of scooping it off the ground.
“Hi. You startled me. Look, I even dropped my keys.” He held them for her to see in the moonlight and laughed lightly as Jax stepped closer. “What are you doing here so late? I saw your parents leave a while ago.”
“I went home with them, then I snuck out of the house and drove back here.”
Hmm. She was playing at being a bad girl. He could help her out in that department. The signals were all present. They both knew why she was there, so Shane decided to stop pussy-footing around, no pun intended. “I’ve been thinking about what you said at the pool bar. About the mindless sex. Thinking about it a lot, actually.”
“And?” She took another step forward, close enough now all he had to do was reach a few inches to touch her, so he did.
“I decided I’m the perfect man for the job.” His lips meeting hers reinforced his answer to her question.
Sliding one hand beneath the silk of her hair, he pulled her tighter against him. His other hand landed on her hips. She was so tiny around the middle he could probably span her waist with his fingers. Rich people didn’t eat enough. He intended on telling her that, later. Right now, his tongue was too busy slipping between her lips to talk.
She raised her hands and rested them against his chest and that’s when he felt it. Jax was shaking like a leaf.
He pulled his head back. “You okay? You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.” She nodded and leaned in for another kiss.
He lifted his head so his lips were just out of her reach. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” She rose up on tiptoe, her lips hovering temptingly close to his. “I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to forget. Make love to me.”
That he could do. He let her close the remaining distance between them. Kissing them both breathless, Shane set to work doing just what she’d requested. One hand on her ass and the other cupping one blissfully real breast, Shane was really starting to get into it when she reached for his zipper. He stopped her hand as reality hit. In another minute or two, the way they were going, they’d be fucking while pressed up against his SUV in the employee parking lot.
