Dylan narrowed his eyes, though he knew she was teasing him. “Oh?”

  “Hunk-a-licious.” Then, taking mercy on him, she admitted, “Only, he’s no rock and roller. Has this upper-crust Boston voice. And he probably likes elevator music or something.”

  “Horrors,” he replied dryly. Then, still amused by her cute effort to make him jealous, he added, “Because I know how you like to move to more sultry music.”

  Her expression grew a little dreamy. “Oh, yes. I like moving and dancing and living in rhythm with the sultry stuff.”

  Perfect. Because so did Dylan.

  Thinking about what she’d said about her conversation with her friend, he fished around for some more information. “So, uh, you and Gracie were sharing some big secrets, huh?”

  Her eyes twinkled and she didn’t answer the question she knew damn well he was asking: whether she’d been talking about him. “We always share secrets,” she replied with a prim nod.

  Twining his fingers into her hair and cupping her head, he tugged her forward and leaned over the bar, meeting her halfway. As their lips came close enough to share a breath, he whispered, “So did you tell her I made you come while you were mixing a couple of mai tais right here behind the bar Monday night?”

  She shuddered a little, her lips parting in a tiny gasp of memory. “God, you were so bad to do that to me. I can’t imagine what the couple at table four thought about how long it took you to hook up the cable you were supposedly working on back here. Or how long it took me to make their drinks.”

  “I don’t imagine they realized I was kissing your bare thighs under your skirt, or that I had my hand on your—”

  “Shh,” she said, putting her fingers over his lips with a helpless giggle. “Now I know why you told me you wanted to see me in a skirt instead of jeans some night. And that cable story…sheesh, I’m so gullible.”

  Giving her a wolfish look, he said, “Yeah. You are. As for the couple drinking the mai tais? Well, any guy pansy enough to actually order one in public probably had no idea what I was doing to you under there.”

  “Pansy, huh? Guess that means you won’t be ordering a Slippery Nipple anytime soon?”

  “No, but I sure as hell plan to serve one.”

  Unable to resist any longer, he pressed his lips to hers, falling into the same sweet, hot, delightful place he always went when he kissed Cat Sheehan. She tasted like cherries and laughter and sex and sunshine, all rolled into one.

  When they pulled apart, she admitted, “By the way, I don’t share all my secrets.” Half lowering her lashes over her eyes, she added, “Especially not the ones I want to happen again.”

  He leaned even closer, practically lying on his stomach so he could see all of her. “You wearing a skirt today?”

  She stepped back so he could see her sexy, tight jean miniskirt that revealed those endlessly long legs. “And nothing else,” she said, pure wickedness in her voice.

  At that, Dylan went right over the bar, crawling toward her with deliberation.

  “What are you…”

  “You awaken the beast, you deal with the consequences,” he growled.

  She began to giggle as he hopped down beside her. Reaching toward his jeans, she squeezed him lightly, gasping as she realized he was already hard for her. “Well,” she said regretfully, “the beast is gonna have to stay in his cage for a while unless he wants to get caught rampaging by any customers who might wander in.”

  Shaking his head and laughing, he swooped down to kiss her, quick and hard. “I’m the beast,” he said once he pulled away.

  “No, you’re the rebel.”

  Rebel? “Uh, not exactly.”

  She reached up and rubbed the tip of her index finger across his bottom lip, until he nibbled at it. “You are. From the top of your head to the tip of your boots and every delicious inch in between.” Shuddering a little, she leaned against him and cupped his cheek in her hand, tangling her fingers in his hair. “And you drive me crazy. From your eyes to your voice, to the tight way you wear your impossibly soft and threadbare jeans, to the sexy hoop in your ear, you make me absolutely wild.”

  He wondered if now was a good time to tell her the earring was the magnet kind and his ear wasn’t pierced.

  Probably not.

  Especially because her words bothered him. The intensity in her voice, the hunger in her eyes…they were for Spence. She was no longer talking to Dylan, the man she’d gotten to know all week. She was talking to the homeless rocker she’d taken in Sunday night.

  It was ridiculous to be jealous of himself, yet that’s exactly what he was feeling.

  Before he could do anything about it—and he honestly didn’t know what that might have been—the front door swung open. Two women entered, looking around the empty room. Waving them toward one of the dozen vacant tables, Cat stepped back, creating a more sedate distance between them. Her cheeks pinkened and Dylan almost laughed, the blush so unexpected on the face of a woman so sensual and provocative.

  “I should go make sure Zeke’s still here to cook anything,” she murmured. “I’ve been having him leave around two all week, then come back in at five.”

  Looked around the empty tavern, he frowned. “Not much of a crowd at all since Sunday night, huh?”

  She shook her head. “There were a few people in around noon, like there have been every day this week. The business people still drift in Monday through Friday for lunch since they’re downtown, anyway, and don’t have to deal with the detour hassles. Nobody else bothers.”

  A sad, faraway look darkened her expression as the reality of her situation returned full force to her mind. For a little while, he’d succeeded in lightening her mood, making her laugh, making her forget. But the truth of why he was really working here and the uncertainty of her future had returned.

  Dylan knew enough about Cat to understand why the closing of Temptation would hurt her. He just hoped his presence in her life was making it easier. And would, perhaps, give her something to look forward to once this was all over. “You okay?”

  Inhaling and then releasing a deep breath, she nodded and offered him a tentative smile. “Yeah, I am. Not fabulous, but okay, which is exactly what I was telling my sister right before you walked in.”

  “Laine?”

  Cat nodded. “She called from California. It seems the wildfire threatening my aunt’s house is out. Laine offered to come back here.”

  Laine coming back…that could be a good thing for Cat. But it sure would eliminate her need for him. He didn’t move a muscle as he waited for her to continue.

  “I told her not to,” Cat murmured.

  His heart started beating again. “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced around the room, her expression tender as she studied all the empty tables and the single occupied one. The stage, the jukebox. The windows and the overhead lights. “Don’t get me wrong,” she finally said, “this totally sucks. But I’m getting used to the idea. I’m…dealing. Even seeing beyond this month and making some plans.”

  God, he prayed those plans would somehow include him.

  “That’s thanks to you, Dylan,” she said, placing her hand flat on his chest. She stared up at him, emotion shining clearly in her green eyes. “You’ve given me strength to face all of this without feeling so…abandoned. Once I had your strength behind me, I began realizing I will survive this.”

  He covered her hand with his own, wondering if she could feel the way his heart was pounding in his chest. Because there had been feeling in her words. And the way she was looking at him now…well, he could live on it for weeks.

  “I’m glad you asked me to stay,” he admitted.

  One of the women at the table cleared her throat, and Cat pulled her hand away. “I’ll be right over,” she called.

  “Guess I’d better get back to work,” he said. But before he left to carry the boxes upstairs, he asked, “So, did you happen to tell Laine about having a little help?”

  She shook her head. “I want to keep it…close. Private.”

  “Intimate,” he murmured.

  “Exactly.”

  He understood that. Because he was feeling the same way—wanting the rest of the world to just leave them alone for a while. At least long enough for them to figure out where they were going and how they were going to get there.

  “All I told Laine was that I’m okay, and that I don’t need her back here until the twenty-seventh.”

  Tilting his head in confusion, Dylan said, “But your last day in business is Sunday the twenty-sixth.”

  “Yes, it’s our last official day. But if Temptation’s going out, she’s going out with a bang, not a whimper. That Monday is going to be an all-day party for everyone who ever cared about this place. Family. Friends. Regulars.” Winking, she added, “Musicians.”

  “I’ll be here,” he replied tenderly.

  “I know you will.” Her voice was just as soft. “In fact, I wouldn’t want to have it without you.”

  DESPITE GOING THROUGH one of the most difficult periods of her life, Cat was feeling better than she had in a long, long time. It was so strange. She was still depressed about losing Temptation, yet, if asked, she’d have had to answer that she’d never been happier in her personal life. Because of Spence.

  It’s a fling. She kept having to remind herself of that, though, honestly, she didn’t know if what was happening between them had any sort of name.

  Enchantment?

  Maybe.

  All she knew was that he constantly made her laugh and made her hot and made her feel protected and definitely not alone.

  She’d quickly become accustomed to sleeping beside him in her bed, sometimes waking up deep in the night, just looking at him lying there. Perfect and handsome and amazing, even when asleep.

  Sometimes during the day, she’d catch him humming under his breath and more than once she’d considered asking him to sing for her. Only for her. But she hadn’t…it seemed almost too personal. Too intimate.

  And she didn’t want to hear him sing her a song that he’d written for another woman.

  Though she kept telling herself she didn’t have much more time—that as soon as Temptation was gone, Spence likely would be, too—she couldn’t help wondering if there were any chance for them beyond this month. Beyond forever sounded good, too.

  Cat forced the hopeful image out of her brain and looked up as the door opened early Friday afternoon. To her surprise, Dinah entered the bar. The waitress was early—she’d been coming in at five all week, though, honestly, tonight was probably the only night Cat would need the help. Since they had a live country-and-western band coming in to perform, she expected a crowd of people to actually show up ready to drink and party, unlike every other night this week when a handful of people had shown up ready to die or take a nap.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she asked the older woman. “Zeke’s already gone if you’re, you know, on the prowl.”

  Dinah rolled her eyes. “I’ve given up on Zeke. The man’s blind as a bat if he can’t see what a good thing he’s got right in front of him.”

  “He’s shy.”

  Startled by the male voice, Cat whirled around and saw Spence approaching from the back hallway. He’d been working all morning, taking down some old photos and posters, and trying to figure out if there were any way to salvage the beautiful mural Cat had had painted on the wall last year. The same artist who’d done the Temptation signs had created an elaborate piece of artwork that literally embodied the spirit of Temptation.

  The Garden of Eden. Complete with fig leaves.

  Dinah snorted. “Shy? Ha.”

  “I mean it,” Spence said, sliding up onto one of the stools and reaching for the bottle of water Cat had already pulled out for him. “He asked me yesterday when exactly it became okay for a man to let a woman ask him out on a date.”

  Color rose in Dinah’s cheeks. “I most certainly have not asked him on a date.”

  “Lemme guess,” Cat said, tapping her cheek with the tip of her finger, “you asked him to have sex?” Dinah swatted at her with her handbag and Cat stepped easily out of the way, laughing at the woman’s outraged expression. “I’m kidding. I know you’re not completely desperate.”

  Spence sipped from his water bottle. “I think what Zeke was asking was whether it would be okay for him to say yes.” Dinah still didn’t say anything, so he added, “Just in case someone…anyone…ever did ask him out on a date.”

  The woman’s jaw dropped and she patted her hair, looking pleased. “Meaning me?”

  “I think so,” he said.

  Dinah grabbed Spence’s face and smacked a loud kiss on his lips. Cat almost laughed as his face reddened the tiniest bit. For someone so sexy and self-assured, the man was sometimes easily disconcerted.

  “That was worth coming in here early,” Dinah said as she came around behind the bar and tucked her purse away on the bottom shelf.

  “Why did you come in early?” Cat asked.

  “You tell me,” Dinah said with a sly look. “I got orders to cover this afternoon.”

  “Orders?” Frowning in confusion, she glanced at Spence and saw his self-satisfied expression. “Did you…”

  “Yeah,” he said, not even letting her finish. “I asked. Thanks for coming in, Dinah. She deserved an afternoon off.”

  “An afternoon off?”

  “You have parrot tendencies you haven’t told me about yet?” he teased.

  “The only bird around here is the peacock who works in the kitchen,” Dinah said. “And I’m exactly the woman to ruffle his feathers a little bit.”

  “No doubt about it, beautiful,” Spence said.

  Dinah preened, then put both of her hands on Cat’s back and pushed her out from behind the bar. Ignoring her sputters and protests, Spence reached for her hand and tugged her toward the front door.

  “Wait a minute, I can’t just leave!”

  “Sure you can. Dinah’s got it covered.”

  Outnumbered and outfoxed, Cat had no choice but to allow Spence to tug her toward the front door and out into the bright afternoon sunshine.

  “You don’t melt or anything in the daylight, do you?” he asked, watching as she squinted.

  “I’m a night owl,” she admitted. “And a barfly. But this is actually kind of nice.”

  “So are toaster ovens,” he said, shaking his head in bemusement. “Only they’re less hot.”

  Leading her toward the small parking lot behind Temptation, he headed for Cat’s little sedan. She dug her feet into the ground. “How about we take your motorcycle instead?”

  He followed her pointed stare, already shaking his head. “No way.”

  “Oh, come on, I’m not scared.”

  “You should be,” he muttered. Shrugging, he added, “And I don’t have an extra helmet.”

  “So we’ll live dangerously.”

  Her words sparked a strong reaction in him because Spence grabbed her upper arms. “No. I don’t even want to think about you getting on one of those things with a helmet and I’d spank you if you ever did without one.”

  Fisting her hand, she put it on her hip and cocked a brow. “Well, darlin’, if you’re trying to talk me out of it, you’re doing a piss-poor job.”

  He stared, got her meaning, and started to sputter. “Cat…”

  “I’m kidding.” Under her breath, she added, “Pretty much.”

  Shaking off his arm, she stepped closer to the Harley, sparkling and bright in the sunshine. “It really is a beauty,” she said, running her hand over the padded seat. “Sleek and dangerous.”

  To her surprise, his frown deepened. Weren’t guys usually as proud of their rides as they were of what was in their pants?

  “Come on,” he said. “Do you wanna drive since we’re taking your car?”

  Giving him a little pout, she tried one more time. “You’re sure we can’t take this?”

  “It’s…it’s broken-down, remember?”

  Oh, yikes. He was red-faced and she almost bit her tongue, remembering what Banks had said the other night. The bike wasn’t running well and Spence obviously didn’t have the money to get it repaired.

  She was such an idiot. A whiny idiot, playing girlie games when the man obviously had too much pride to admit what the real problem was. Without another word, she slid her arm in his and led him to her car, getting in on the passenger side.

  He got in and started the engine, his jaw still tight.

  “Look, Spence, I’m sorry,” she said, needing him to know she understood. “I totally forgot it was broken-down. After I pay you for working here, you’ll have the money to…”

  His head swung around, his eyes blazing as he snapped, “You’re not paying me a cent.”

  “But, you’re working for me…”

  “I’m sleeping with you,” he bit out.

  “Yes, at night. But during the day…”

  “Cat, I am not taking your money.”

  Now it was her turn to stiffen. She wasn’t a charity case. “We had a deal. You know I wouldn’t have let you do so much if I hadn’t planned to pay you for it.”

  He didn’t relent or soften a bit. “That was before you took me into your bed. When I was going to sleep on the cot, it was a job. Now I’m sleeping in your arms. I’m not some damn gigolo who’s gonna take money for helping out the woman he’s involved with.”

  She shivered a bit, never having seen the man so utterly furious. He was something to see when he was angry—so big and loud and strong. Yet she wasn’t frightened, because she knew he’d never hurt her. She just couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated. But she also understood his point of view.

  Spence was every bit as proud as she was. And while she wouldn’t accept his charity, he wouldn’t take her money. Stalemate.

  Unless…unless she found another way to compensate him, without him even being aware of it until it was done. Already feeling better, she began wondering which of her customers were mechanics at some of the local garages. Determined to make some calls in the next few days and find someone who could fix Spence’s motorcycle, she gave him one small nod of agreement.