On this particular night he didn't need the company. Sure, he had a lot on his mind, but it wasn't the disturbing stuff that sometimes plagued him in his dreams. It wasn't the hell of a past reality, dark and gritty and sharp, clawed with disturbing images of what he'd- "You know, if I was gay, we'd get along just fine and dandy."

CHAPTER NINE.

STARTLED, PULLED from thoughts of his flawed psyche, Rowdy turned his head, and there stood none other than Avery Mullins. A headband held her incredible dark red hair off her face. Given the kiss of sun on her nose and cheeks, she'd spent a few hours outdoors earlier in the day.

At a few inches over five feet, probably weighing no more than a buck- ten, she presented an enticing little package-a package that had his muscles twitching to attention.

Though her opening salvo held plenty of attitude, her blue-eyed gaze avoided his as she finished tying a clean, crisp apron around her waist. Had she come directly to him at the start of her shift?

It appeared so.

Rife with satisfaction and anticipation, Rowdy relaxed back in his seat.

"Knowing you're not gay is a relief."

"Shouldn't be. It's nothing to you."

Extra snippy tonight.

He felt challenged. Hell, he felt alive. "I'm curious what you meant about us getting along."

"The women you eyeball." She finished with the apron and, with nothing else to do, picked up his empty beer glass. "Very bad taste, if you don't mind me saying so."

He didn't mind her saying anything as long as she stuck close. "'S that right?"

"If I courted women, we'd never be competing, that's for sure."

Using his foot, Rowdy pushed back the chair opposite him. "Take a seat and tell me about it."

"Can't." She tipped her head at the crowded floor. "I got called in on my day off because someone called in sick.

With only one full-time waitress and two part-time, this place is always short staffed. So, as of five minutes ago, I'm on the clock."

"And I'm a customer." So this was her day off? And she only worked here part- time. Interesting.

"Yes, you are." She lifted the glass.

"That's why I was going to get you another beer."

"Not just yet." Maybe not at all. He needed to stay sharp if he hoped to do some snooping into Alice's past.

"No?" She looked skeptical. "Since you usually drink two, I just assumed..."

"You know my habits?" Had she been around on his visits, and he hadn't known it? Before he left tonight, he'd find out her schedule. "In that case, I should introduce myself, right?"

"You're no longer incognito?"

He no longer had dire threats hanging over his head-but no reason to dump his sordid past on her. "Rowdy Yates."

"Like the old Clint Eastwood character?"

"Guess my folks were comedians, huh?" Or too drunk to make logical decisions. Whatever.

"More likely you're making it up."

Rowdy shook his head. "We'll eventually get together." And top of his list was giving her a screaming, unforgettable orgasm. "When we do, I damn well want you saying the right name."

"I..." As if she'd read his thoughts, she swallowed whatever she'd started to say and referred back to his offer to sit. "I should be working."

He let his gaze dip over her for one tantalizing peek. "You can take a minute, right?" He loved the way this particular woman dressed down in jeans and Ts.

"I'll make it up to you with a big tip."

She waffled. "I am on a tight budget."

"So, do us both a favor. Take the tip- and tell me how it is we wouldn't be competing for the fairer sex."

Challenged, she said, "Sure, why not?"

She dropped into the chair and propped her elbows on the table. "That blonde?"

Using the beer glass, she pointed in the general direction of the crowded floor.

"Horrible breath. She's a chain smoker.

Probably been outside twice already to puff away. By this time of night she's so stale you pick it up from six feet away."

He wouldn't kick her out of bed for being a smoker, but he wasn't keen on it either. "And the brunette?"

"Very unpleasant..." She stopped, flattened her mouth and gave up with a shake of her head. "Actually, she's a big-time bitch."

Whoa. Rowdy's left eyebrow shot up.

It was the first time he'd heard Avery curse. "To you?"

" To everyone. If she doesn't have a legitimate complaint, she makes up something. She's so annoying, I'm the o nl y one who will willingly wait on her."

Probably insecure, then. Definitely not his thing.

He enjoyed strong women. Confident women.

Redheads.

Had he actually missed Avery that much?

To shake off his odd mood, Rowdy teased, "Aren't you the little critic today?"

"Just a few observations on my part."

"I'll scratch them both off the list, then," Rowdy promised.

She still looked disgruntled. "Hey, if you don't mind kissing an ashtray or listening to nonstop complaints, go for it.

They both look agreeable."

Yeah, he'd go for it-but with Avery, not a substitute. "I appreciate the feedback. Anyone else I should avoid?"

She shrugged. "To each his own, but I'd steer clear of that one in the corner, too, the one with the short brown hair."

Rowdy looked and admired. Nice.

Long legs, shapely bod, plenty of attitude. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing if you like a lot of ink."

"Tattoo?"

"Plural. And they're weird. I mean, not the usual stuff you'd see on a woman.

They're not pretty, just extremely noticeable."

"I don't see them."

"Because she's facing you. One runs up the back of her calf, and another is across the top of her shoulder."

Rowdy nodded, but again, while he didn't get turned on by tats, they didn't really bother him either.

"Thanks. Thing is, though, I wasn't looking at any particular woman."

Giving up his careless slouch in the seat, he sat forward, forearms on the tabletop, attentive, even enchanted.

Avery glanced at his shoulders, over his chest and...away.

He'd felt her attention like a stroke.

Eventually, she'd stop denying him.

"Actually, if you want the truth, I was thinking about a lady I saw earlier today."

Her back stiffened. "Only one? I'm shocked." She started to stand.

Rowdy caught her wrist.

Awareness arced between them, and they both froze, Avery staring at his hand, Rowdy appreciating her softness and warmth.

Smoothing his thumb back and forth over her wrist, Rowdy noted the new heat in her cheeks mixing with the slight sunburn. "Want me to tell you about her?" A pulse tripped in her pale throat.

He wanted to put his mouth, his tongue, right there. He wanted to free her silky hair, taste her flushed skin, breathe in her heady scent- She swallowed, lifted her chin. "I assume she's a woman you plan to sleep with."

"Wrong again." At the moment, Avery was the only woman he wanted. "I didn't visit her for that."

"So, she's a relative?"

Another assumption? He shook his head. "I only met her recently."

"Too old? Too young?"

Did she honestly think he slept with every woman he met? "No, smart-ass.

She's probably mid-twenties."

"Hmm." Avery eased away from his hold to tuck her hand beneath the table.

"I take it she's not sexy enough for you, then."

Rowdy gave it some thought. "You know, in a quiet, sort of naive way, she's really sensual." And intrusive, but he could forgive her that since she had good intentions.

"Wonderful." Avery's tone turned brisk. "Glad to hear it. Sounds like you're all set."

Shades of jealousy? Nice. "I already told you, it's not like that. I think she might be in some trouble, and I hoped to help her. That's all."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know yet. But I'm working on it."

"So this-" she gestured at the small table, at his empty beer glass "-your lack of company or interest in drinking, that was you...fretting over her?"

Did she have to make that sound so absurd?

"I don't fret.

I.

was strategizing." And sulking, but that was such an aberration, no way in hell would he admit it to someone else.

"I should assume she's not married?

Doesn't have anyone else to assist her?"

"Not married, no, but from what I can tell, she's taken."

"Ah." More antagonistic by the second, Avery regained her feet. "I guess that makes her off-limits."