I wanted Jo in my bed again. I wanted to be buried balls deep inside her.
“I should clean up.” Her cheeks were pinked, but I released her from my hold, leaning against the bathroom door to ensure it remained closed as she walked into the cubicle.
A moment later, she reappeared, her dress once again covering her ass, and she returned to the sink to wash her hands.
She met my gaze in the mirror. “Thank you?” she offered shyly, and I grinned.
I shook my head. “My absolute pleasure.”
We left the bathroom as if nothing had happened and crossed the crowded bar back to the table, where our friends had somehow managed to make contact. Charmaine was chatting to Davina, and Wesley appeared to have taken my place, even getting drinks for everyone.
Jackson shook his head at me, his eyes sparkling. “Dude,” he started, far too much glee in his tone.
I braced myself.
“Someone said there was a couple getting it on in the bathroom.” He shook his head like he disapproved. “I mean, can you believe it?” Then he widened his eyes, his fake naivete impossible to sustain as he broke into a chuckle.
I reached for Jo on instinct, wanting to protect her from any gossip, but she neatly side-stepped me, needing nothing from me but denial.
I shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Jo and I had some business to discuss.” But I couldn’t resist drawing my bottom lip into my mouth briefly, the taste of her juices still on my skin.
But Jackson merely laughed and nodded toward a nondescript guy talking to Smokey, the regular bartender. Talking wasn’t quite the word for it, though. The guy was yelling pretty loudly and was holding his wrist, clearly making some sort of complaint.
I narrowed my eyes, and focused my ears on the exchange.
Smokey nodded vaguely as the guy started to talk again, looking indifferent to the complaint, however it was worded.
“Aren’t you listening?” the guy said. “I tried to walk into the bathroom and some fucker slammed the door shut on my hand. Look! It’s bruising already.”
But Smokey just shrugged. “Look, what can I tell ya? Maybe knock next time.”
“Knock? What the hell?” But the guy was seething to an empty space.
Smokey had already given up on the conversation and was returning to his usual spot behind the bar.
I ducked my head and grinned. Smokey had to know exactly what had happened. There wasn’t much in Clover’s that he didn’t know about, and anyone who was a regular here knew enough about Smokey to keep him sweet. He was a town fixture, but grumpy about it.
Apparently, this guy wasn’t a regular, though, and he fought his way to the front of the crowd to continue the conversation Smokey had just ended.
After I turned my attention from the drama at the bar, I glanced at Jo. She was talking to Davina and Charmaine, blending seamlessly into the group already here at the table. Even Jackson seemed captivated by her, and I fought the jealousy nipping at me, taking the last swallow of my drink as Wesley brought a fresh clutch of drinks to the table, carrying all the glasses on a tray like he’d been bartending and serving cocktails most of his life.
As I returned my focus to Jo again, my wolf went crazy inside me. I wanted to mark this woman, claim her as my own — stop bastards like Jackson grinning at her like lovesick puppies.
I looked away as the unfamiliar feeling nearly overwhelmed me, and my heart beat too fast for comfort.
Love most certainly wasn’t on my mind. Those kinds of emotions never ended well. I couldn’t afford to take my eyes off the end game — the acquisition of, or the securing of, Gold Moon as a reputable company.
Anything more than physical entanglement endangered that plan.
Yet I couldn’t take my gaze off Jo. Every time I redirected my attention elsewhere, or ordered myself to think about something else, or engaged in conversation with Wesley or Jackson, she recaptured my attention with a casual gesture or a husky laugh, and I was lost again. This couldn’t continue.
I stood and wandered over to the bar, this time waiting without incident in the crowd before it was my turn to speak to Smokey. I sent another round of drinks to the table and slipped away into the night. I took a deep breath of the outside air, freeing my lungs from Jo’s scent as I did so.
She was becoming dangerous.
I walked to my car. I hadn’t drunk enough to worry about driving, and I didn’t want to go home. What would I do there besides sit and brood and wish I’d brought Jo with me?
That wouldn’t help anyone, because as much as I might’ve wished for Jo, her presence definitely wasn’t a good idea.