Stripped Bounty

by Dorothy F. Shaw

  “Uh-huh. Have a seat with me, brother.” His boss patted the table in front of the open chair.

  Badger braced his hands on the back of the chair and bent low. “Listen…I don’t know what you’re gonna say, but I got an idea. So, save it.”

  Deuce laughed, his body shaking as he continued to stroke his beard. “She’s different, Badger.”

  Badger straightened and crossed his arms. “And?”

  “That’s it. I figure you’ll figure out what to do with her from there.” Deuce tilted his beer to his lips.

  With a grunt, Badger shifted his weight and stared at the hall Rosie had disappeared down. “Yeah. She’s different. She’s also got baggage, likely the complicated kind.”

  “Might be worth it.”

  “Doubtful.” Badger clapped Deuce on his shoulder and stepped away.

  Blowing out a harsh breath, he made his way down the hall—looking for her but telling himself the whole time he wasn’t really looking for her. He neared the dressing room and peered inside. Lights were off, and it was empty. Badger continued down the hall on his journey of not seeking out Rosie. When he neared the office, he slowed his roll as the sound of Evie’s voice echoed through the corridor. It was quickly followed by Rosie’s laugh—the sound of it rippling over Badger’s skin like she’d touched him with her fingertips.

  Badger stopped and pressed his back against the wall. This whole situation was fucked and would turn into a shit-storm if he gave any more gas to his attraction to her. She couldn’t read him, thought he didn’t like her. Stupid woman. She just wasn’t paying attention.

  Then again…it wasn’t like he was putting out any vibes for her to pay attention to. He’d been gruff and short with her, pretty much from the minute he’d laid eyes on her. Her laugh echoed around him again and Badger fisted his hands at his sides as the sound resonated straight to his balls.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck! He bent his head and ran his palm over his beard. Walk away. Walk the fuck away. Too complicated. Too much baggage. He just knew it—felt it in his gut. Badger pushed away from the wall and moved back down the hall to the open area. Another shot of Jack might help him get his head on straight, or…it might have him thinking with the head south of his belt…

  One way or the other his head would be warm and cozy.

  Chapter Seven

  The sound of Rosie’s cell ringing drew her from the deep sleep she’d been in. Reaching blindly for the little side table, she found the charging cable and tugged the device onto the bed. Rosie squinted at the screen and cleared her throat. It was a local number she didn’t recognize but hit “Talk” anyway and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey, girlie girl. Wake up and let’s go shopping!”

  Whoa! Way too much enthusiasm at that early—Rosie glanced at the clock—okay, late hour. It was almost twelve thirty in the afternoon. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Um, who is this?”

  “Oh, sorry.” The woman giggled. “It’s Sabby. Evie gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Oh, wow! So much for employee privacy. Okay then. “No. Not at all.” Rosie tugged a pillow over her face, knowing she was just being grumpy because she was tired.

  “So, what do you say? Wanna come shopping with me? We can have a late lunch…or early dinner. You’re not working today, right?”

  Rosie pulled the scrunchie from her hair and dragged her fingers through the long length as she sat up. Did she have work today? Rosie glanced around, trying to orient herself. “What day is it again? Oh wait…it’s Sunday, right? Yeah. No, I’m off. Hang on, aren’t you working?”

  “Yes, it’s Sunday.” Sabby laughed again. “Nope, not going in today. I didn’t get everything I wanted last week on Black Friday, and this week’s been a blur, so I figured I’d take the day off and give Metrocenter a twirl. Was hoping maybe you’d want to come and we could make it a girls’ day.”

  Rosie stood and wandered to the bathroom. A girls’ day. Ever since her husband was murdered, she’d existed in autopilot mode. Moving through each day like a robot; doing the next thing in front of her that needed doing. Rosie couldn’t remember the last time she’d really taken any time for herself. A girls’ day was absolutely what she needed. “You know what? I think that sounds great! Need to grab a shower, though. Is that okay? I’ll be quick. Promise.”

  “Of course. Is an hour enough time?”

  Rosie laughed. “I’m not planning on anything fancy, so thirty minutes’ll be fine.”

  “Perfect! Give me your address and I’ll head over a little before one.”

  After relaying the address, Rosie set the phone down and jumped in the shower. Once done, she did a quick and light makeup job and piled her hair in a messy bun. Donning a pair of jeans, flip-flops, and long sleeve T-shirt, she headed to the small kitchenette in her studio apartment.

  She had just enough time to microwave a cup of yesterday’s coffee when the doorbell chimed. With mug in hand, Rosie walked the three steps of distance from her small kitchen to reach the entryway, peered through the peephole, and, seeing who it was, opened the door. “Hey there!”

  “Hey, girlie. You ready?”

  Rosie took a sip of the semi-hot coffee. “Yes. I’m kind of hungry, though. Can we eat first?”

  “Sure. Since I woke you, do you want breakfast or lunch? Or brunch? It is Sunday after all.” Sabby smiled.

  “Brunch sounds fantastic.” Rosie stepped to the side, placed the mug in the sink, and grabbed her purse from the small counter. “You driving?”

  “Definitely driving. There’s some places over by the mall we can grab brunch and mimosas. I know I’m still a little hungover from last night’s shift.”

  “All right. Lead the way.”

  After locking the door behind her, Rosie followed Sabby out to the front of her building and then stood next to the open passenger door of a fire-engine red, incredibly sporty-looking coupe.

  “Crap. Sorry. Let me get this out of the way.” Sabby grabbed four different pairs of stripper heels along with several costume pieces from the front seat and floorboard and tossed them to the small space behind the front seats. “I swear I’m more organized than this.”

  Rosie slid into the leather front seat. “This is an amazing car. I mean a really amazing car.” She closed the door. “What kind is it?”

  “Thanks! I just got it in October. It’s a Nissan 370Z.” Sabby beamed and reached to—

  Whoa! She pushed a button and the car started with a rumble. Holy wow! Rosie couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled out of her. “It’s gorgeous and still smells new.”

  Sabby groaned as she backed out of the parking space. “I know! I love it!”

  “The car or the smell?”

  “Both!” She shifted into gear and zoomed through the parking lot to the exit.

  “Agreed.” Rosie reached back and grabbed for the seatbelt. She’d been so distracted by the car, she’d forgotten to put it on. And by the looks of how her friend was tearing ass into traffic, she was going to need it.

  They arrived safely at their destination. The restaurant her friend picked was a nice little modern American-style eatery, which amazingly, only served breakfast foods but in a million different ways. And as Sabby had wanted, mimosas.

  Once settled at their quaint two-person table in the back of the dining area, full plates in front of them, Rosie took her first sip of what tasted like the most glorious coffee in the world. She closed her eyes, and let the sounds and scents of the restaurant weave around her.

  “You’re funny, Rosie.”

  Rosie focused on Sabby. “Thanks, I think. How so?”

  “You got this look on your face…like this is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. I know that can’t be true.” Sabby bit into a piece of bacon. “I think it’s sweet, actually.”

  Rosie set her coffee cup down on its saucer. “Maybe it is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She shrugged.

  “B
ut you’re—”

  “A stripper?” Rosie cut into her Belgian waffle covered in whipped cream and strawberries.

  “Older.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Rosie laughed and took a bite.

  “No, I mean. Believe me, you’re fucking hot. Totally hot, especially onstage. You’re making a killing out there and showing the rest of us up. What I meant was, you’re older than me, so you’ve had to have done cool things in your life. Especially because you’re a stripper.” She shoveled in some eggs and spoke around them. “I mean…how have you not been getting wined and dined by customers?”

  “Well.” Rosie swallowed her mouthful of food. “I stopped stripping over two years ago. And I mean no offense, but letting customers wine and dine me wasn’t really my thing back then. It’s still not.”

  “None taken. So, you got out. Why’d you come back?” Sabby sipped her mimosa.

  Rosie shrugged. “I moved here for a fresh start, but things didn’t go as smoothly as I wanted. And I needed the money. Fastest way to make it is the stage.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I started a couple years ago just to put myself through school, but eventually it got harder to get up and make my classes. Sometimes I don’t think I ever want to quit dancing now. The money’s too good.” She took another sip of her drink. “I mean seriously, look at my car? Wouldn’t have that if I wasn’t dancing.”

  “Take it from the old lady.” Rosie winked. “You should go back to school.”

  “Old lady? Whatever. But yeah, you’re probably right.” She glanced around the restaurant, a resigned look in her eyes. “I’ll go back someday.”

  “I hope you do.” Rosie pursed her lips. “What did you want to be?”

  “Justice and Law Administration. I wanted to work in Juvenile Probation.” Her friend smiled.

  Rosie nodded. “That sounds really, really cool. Money’s probably not as good, but you’d be doing good in the world, helping kids, and that’s worth a lot more.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot.” Sabby raised her mimosa. “Here’s to our future!”

  With a smile, Rosie picked up her mimosa, which she hadn’t touched yet, and clinked the edge to Sabby’s. “Our future.”

  They each had a sip, or rather, Sabby downed the remainder of hers before digging back into her food. Rosie watched her friend for a moment and finally attended to her own meal. It was strange, listening to her new friend talk about her future. As young as she was, she had so much to look forward to, but she’d have to act soon. The longer a girl waited, the harder it became to leave the stage.

  Rosie had started her dancing career at the age of nineteen. And she’d known many girls just like Sabby, best of intentions that never went anywhere. The lure of the scene was a hard thing to resist, and many never got out. But Rosie had been with Joey, so the “scene” never held appeal for her. The wining and dining from customers was limited to what they gave her in the bar. If a customer wanted her to sit next to him while he steadily tipped her and bought her drinks, she’d do it. If one paid for lap dance after lap dance, she’d do that, too.

  But once the customers were gone and the lights came up, Rosie would go home to her boyfriend—who not long after, became her husband. Joey had no issue with her stripping. Years later, when things weren’t so great between them, she’d realized it spoke volumes that he didn’t have a problem with it. He actually pushed her to keep at it. Joey liked the money. Plain and simple.

  She’d spent fifteen years on the stage, in many different clubs around the state, dancing topless for customers. Every time she thought Joey might have a job good enough for her to hang up her heels, he’d end up getting arrested again, and eventually going back to jail. She’d been trapped. Trapped by him, and by the money.

  “So, what’s going on between you and Badger?”

  Rosie almost choked on a mouthful as Sabby’s question both pulled Rosie from memory lane and shocked the shit out of her. She swallowed and wiped her mouth. Holy crap, where had that come from? “I…um…nothing.” She shrugged. “What makes you think something’s going on?”

  Sabby leaned forward. “Seriously? Girlie, he watches you like a hawk when you’re onstage. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I mean, you’d have to be dead to not notice how that man watches you.”

  Oh, she’d noticed all right. “How do you think he watches me?”

  “There’s really nothing going on? Damn…I thought for sure.” Sabby slid her glass to the edge of the table and the waiter refilled it for her. “For real, he watches you like you’re his woman.”

  “Like I’m—” Rosie frowned. “No way.”

  “Yes way. Let me tell you, it’s totally fucking hot, too. Crystalline said he even growled one night a week or so ago.” Sabby took a sip of her mimosa and continued. “How have you not noticed this?”

  “I’ve noticed. Sure. But I know the man can’t stand me, so I doubt there’s anything other than disgust behind it.”

  “Disgust?” Sabby jerked her head back. “There’s no disgust in his gaze when he watches you, Rosie. That man has a hard-on for you. In a big way.”

  Shock plowed through Rosie at her friend’s words. It had never occurred to her that Badger could have a thing for her. And yeah, she thought he was attractive and sexy and dangerous…but it wasn’t like she was interested. Was she? “Maybe you’re right. I guess I never gave it much thought.”

  Sabby forked up a mouthful and spoke around it. “Girlie, if that were me, I’d be jumping all over that man. In a hot minute.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Rosie laughed and took another sip of her mimosa.

  Maybe she was interested in Badger. She set her glass down and focused on her plate. Technically, she was single. Still mourning—sort of—for her dead husband, but definitely single.

  There had been days early on that she’d missed Joey with an ache so fierce it was physical. But as the months passed, it’d lessened. Considerably. On occasion a memory would hit her, and she’d find herself fuming at him rather than wishing he were still with her.

  Remembering all the bullshit, remembering how many chances she’d given him—none of it without wishing she’d done things differently—or how many times they’d been evicted because he’d blown their rent money. She was grateful she didn’t have to live that way anymore.

  Over the years, the love she had for him had died, at least the in-love part did. But she’d stayed with him anyway. Christ, they’d been together since forever. How could she not? Rosie had been his home base. The place he came back to after each stint behind bars…

  She blew out a sigh and picked at the waffle on her plate. All of that was done now. And although she wouldn’t have picked for it to end the way it did, it had, and she’d found a way to move forward.

  Rosie had come to Phoenix on a mission to start fresh. Change her future. Since she’d ended up back onstage, things hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still change it. She could. And she would.

  But now she wondered if Badger would somehow play a part in that future. Rosie took another bite of waffle and decided it didn’t matter whether he did or not. She’d do whatever she needed to do to move forward.

  Rosie was a fighter. A survivor. She’d learned early on how to be.

  Chapter Eight

  Rosie swung, upside down, one leg hooked around the slim pole, her back arched as she formed a perfect arch with her body. The powerful lyrics from Sia’s “Chandelier” flowed through the club’s sound system, wrapping around Rosie as she let herself get lost in the beat.

  It’d been about two weeks since Thanksgiving. And Badger hadn’t said a word to her. Ever since Sabby had brought up Badger watching Rosie while she danced, she hadn’t stopped thinking about the attempted conversation on Turkey Day.

  Now the only thing she was getting from him was a whole lot of grunts or groans. A couple grumbles, too. But that was it. No words, not even clipped ones laced with disgust.


  Rosie didn’t get it. And really, she’d grown damn sick of trying to figure it out—figure him out. He wanted to be an asshole? So be it. All she needed from him was to keep the crowd in line. Really, she didn’t need that, either. She was perfectly fine taking care of herself.

  She let go of her foot, and extended both arms out as she continued to spin. The song ended, and ZZ Ward’s “OVERdue” started. She’d picked the songs that night for Badger. Though she’d told herself the whole time that wasn’t what she was doing. Did he listen to the words while he watched her dance? Was he watching her now?

  Rosie curled her body around the pipe, her torso and thighs holding her suspended. She let herself drop, sliding down the pole and stopping only right before she hit the floor. The crowd went nuts. Considering it was Friday night, they were packed and the roar from their cheers was damn near louder than the music.

  Rosie got to her feet and walked around the pole. Arching back against it, she popped her hips, along with her legs, keeping her movements tight, but sensual. She walked forward and pulled the slip dress she wore over her head.

  Yeah, he was watching.

  Catching Badger’s eyes as she walked, she tossed the costume to the side and stopped at the end of the stage, cupped her chest in her hands and rolled her hips, then turned and bent forward, swinging her long hair around.

  She went to her knees and crawled along the edges of the stage, allowing the customers to show their love…in the form of dollar bills. By the time Rosie got to the other end, her next song began. After getting back to her feet, she moved up stage, and unlaced her white string bikini-type top.

  The slow but solid beat of BANKS’s “Before I Ever Met You” fueled her. After giving her ass a little shake, Rosie arched backward, and executed a back walkover. When she was upright again and facing the crowd, she rolled her head and flipped her hair over one shoulder. Rosie cupped her breasts in her palms before making a show of pinching her nipples. More hoots and whistles from the men in front, a few hollered her name. But what was better was Badger’s reaction. His eyes had gone wide when she’d tugged on her nipples and he’d run his palm over his face.