Without raising her head, she snagged his wrist, lifted it away from her hair, and sat up.

She maintained her hold on his thick wrist. Her slender fingers didn't quite circle all the way around him.

Rowdy didn't object, and she didn't let go. The physical connection felt more intimate than it should have.

Anticipating what she'd say or do next, he watched her.

She met his gaze squarely. "On the off chance that you might be a buyer for the...establishment, I want you to understand that I'm too short, too lacking in curves and far too modest to ever do justice to any stage performance."

"You think?" Because he didn't. "You could audition and let me make that decision-"

Cutting him off, she held up her free hand. "And if you're not a buyer, then know that I have no interest in flirting, the nuances of sexy banter elude me, and no way, ever, would I date anyone from this bar-regardless of how attractive he might be."

Date? He didn't date. No time and no interest. He said only, as a taunt, "Bet I could change your mind."

She made a funny sound. "Take a look around, sir. Plenty of other women are hoping you'll notice them. I'm sure they'll provide an easier route for your intentions."

She didn't know his intentions, and he didn't look, because he didn't care. "I think you're attractive, too."

That gave her pause. She glanced down at her person and made a face. "I was going for something altogether different."

"Like?"

"Perhaps plain, uninteresting. Maybe even invisible."

So the clothes she wore were supposed to...hide her? He again took in her shoes which, despite being unadorned, were still feminine, almost like dainty little ballet slippers. The straight-legged jeans, likely new, showed the length of her legs. And that crew-necked T-shirt, even being a little big, displayed the narrowness of her bone structure and the soft swell of her breasts.

Whatever her intent, she made an enticing, overall package. Small, female, understated.

But with that dark red hair...

Intriguing.

That made him frown. Did Logan look at his sister like that? Did he see beyond Pepper's outward image?

It wasn't at all the same thing, given this woman only downplayed her looks instead of attempting to conceal them.

But his sister...

"I'm glad we were able to clear all that up." Mistaking his silence for lack of interest, she stood. "So would you like a drink or not? And believe me, if you give the wrong answer this time, I'll leave and let another waitress deal with you."

Not for a second did he believe that, but he played along. "I'll take a beer."

"Of course. I'll bring that to you right away."

On impulse, he sat forward. "Let me ask you something first."

She cocked her hip in a stance ripe with attitude. "I have other tables to wait on."

"I'll double your tip if give me the truth."

"Truly?" Her eyes gleamed. "I promise not to sugarcoat a single word."

She hadn't pulled her punches, so he believed her. "Is this getup meant to turn off guys, to maybe cover your assets?"

As his sister tried to do. "Or is this how you usually dress?"

For several seconds she studied him, probably trying to figure out his angle.

Not in a million years would she even come close.

She gave in without any fuss. "I started here a few weeks ago. Other than the apron, there isn't a dress code, so I wore my regular wardrobe, which, believe me, isn't designed to beguile."

Interesting. "No low-cut tops or miniskirts or anything like that, huh?"

"I'm casual clothes all the way."

If the clothes came from her everyday attire, did that mean she didn't own any low-cut tops or miniskirts? If so, it'd be a pity. Even being petite, she had long legs. He'd love to see them. Hell, he'd love to be between them. "So, the other women?"

"I believe they dress to get tips." She showed not a single sign of judgment.

So her derision was aimed only at the male customers, not the female workers?

By the second, his interest grew.

"Dressing sexier works for them?"

"Yes, it does, but it also comes with a lot of extra hassle."

Spoken like a woman who knew. "In your regular clothes, you got hit on?"

She didn't confirm or deny that. "I decided it'd be better to discourage interest as much as I could."

Rowdy didn't bother telling her that all she'd done-at least for him-was stimulate his curiosity. "So this-" he nodded at her body "-is your attempt to dial down the sex appeal?"

"Yes, and I'm sure I'm successful."

Raising a brow, Rowdy sat back in his seat. "Sorry, love, but I'm seeing it all, every sexy inch."

"Annnnd..." she said, "there goes your last chance."

Amused by her drama, Rowdy watched her march off. He appreciated the back view of her as much as he did the front.

She probably stood no more than five- two, and he doubted she'd weigh over a buck-ten. But with each step, that thick auburn hair caught the bar lights, coiling down her back to the bottom of her shoulder blades, sort of pointing the way to that pert little ass. Even the baggy seat of her boy jeans couldn't detract from that nice asset.

Yeah, he saw it all. And one way or another, he'd get her under him.

Unfortunately, he hadn't even thought to ask her name. If she wore a name badge, he hadn't seen it. Another deliberate move on her part?

For now, wondering if Logan also saw his sister in spite of her camouflage kept Rowdy from turning on the charm.

First things first. He would put a GPS tracker on Logan's truck to see where he went. That'd give him a starting place for unraveling the neighbor's mysterious interest in his sister. He'd take care of that tonight.

If Logan Stark had anything to hide, Rowdy would find out, and then he'd deal with it.

A woman sidled up to his table. "Hi."

Rowdy glanced at her. Light brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, framing a lot of cleavage. A cloud of perfume wafted in her wake.

Unlike the waitress, this woman had all her curves on display, and they were many. She suited his normal preferences, but tonight didn't feel ordinary in any way.

Already bored, he said, "Hey, yourself."

"You're not drinking alone, are you?"

Normally, at that point, he'd start the process that'd ensure he had a bed partner for the night. This time, he flat- out didn't feel like it. Never mind that minutes ago he'd been thinking a tumble was just what he needed. "Yeah, I am."

"How about I join you?"

"A persuasive offer, if all you want is conversation."

She paused, coy, suggestive. "And if I wanted more?"

"Tonight's a no-go for me, honey.

Sorry."

His rejection surprised her and set her to pouting. "Should I ask why?"

"I have something I need to do."

She slipped into the chair opposite him. Touching his shoulder with one manicured fingertip, her eyes heavy, her mouth smiling, she whispered, "Do me."

"Ah, now that's tempting." He took her warm hand and relocated it to the tabletop. "But I still have to decline."

"I could be a nice distraction."

"I don't doubt it." Admiration at her confidence gentled his tone. "But it doesn't change anything."

"Tomorrow, then?"

He half smiled. "So you don't just want to share a drink, huh? All right then. If I'm here tomorrow, feel free to hit me up."

She flattened both hands on the table in front of him, bent forward, and said close to his mouth, "Be here." And with that, she straightened and sashayed off.

Damn, but he enjoyed women. The more brazen and confident and upfront, the better.

"The other waitress was busy," said that familiar husky voice.

Usually he liked brazen and up-front.

This time, something altogether different appealed to him. Rowdy switched his attention to the redhead.

She plunked his beer down on the table hard enough to slosh some out of the glass.

"Thanks." That she hadn't abandoned him as she'd threatened didn't really surprise him. Women could be adorably predictable. Teasing her, he asked, "Something wrong?"

"Not at all. Is there anything else I can get you-and, no, no innuendo, please."

Her prim voice amused him. "Would I be that cliched?"

"My apologies for assuming that you would." She started to leave.

"There is one thing."

Even over the loud music and drone of conversation, he heard her groan of exasperation.

Keeping her back to him, she stopped, inhaled and finally looked over her shoulder. "Yes?"

Folding his arms on the table, Rowdy leaned forward. "I need your name."

"Noooo," she said on a laugh. "You most definitely do not."

Three women approached, stepping around her and crowding his table.

Rowdy wanted to curse the interruption.

"Just a sec, girls." Impatient, he stood to see around them. The waitress, checking in at other tables, was already a few feet away. To the ladies, he said, "Be right back."

Not caring what they thought of that, he took several long strides and snagged the waitress by the apron tie at the small of her back, drawing her up short.

In silky tones, he said, "Now, don't run off."

"I was not running. I have work to do."

"If you say so." Still holding on to that tie, he drew her closer. "You may as well give me a name. Otherwise I'll have to ask around."

Losing some of her good humor, she stiffened. "Why ever would you do that?"

Near her ear, Rowdy whispered, "Pure, hot, male...curiosity?" The warm scent of her made his gut clench as he breathed her in.

That pushed her over the edge.

She jerked around to blast him with temper but went still as she took in his size.

Staring down at her, anticipation heightened, Rowdy waited to see what she'd do or say. He had a feeling she wouldn't bore him.

"Good grief." She tipped her head way back and stared into his eyes.