“Then why?” I probed. Still wanting to find the real reason he was trying to get me under his roof. “I find it hard to believe it’s just my company you’re yearning for.”

He seems like he can barely tolerate me most days.

“Told you. Like the presence of a woman.” He went back to scanning the room with those alert eyes. “The smell of woman shampoo conditioners, candles, the general vibrant softness that she brings to a room. Things are better when one is around.”

That was a horribly intimate thing to say.

“I’ve never heard a man talk like that.”

“How many do you know that were raised, with all brothers, by their father?” He tugged at the cuff of one sleeve pulling his jacket off and setting free some wide shoulders as he meticulously plucked the collar to find a center line and folded it. Setting it on the benched seat next to him.

“No mom?”

He returned his attention to me. “That’s a tale for another day, Punkin’.”

Punkin’ means he’s being disdainful. I noticed.

I eyed him skeptically. “If you’re looking for a suzy housewife, I’m the wrong damn girl.”

I don’t have time for that shit.

Besides, after work and my short workout, being lazy was my favorite part of the day. I’m not giving that up.

“I’m not.”

Was he always so decisive? The way he said things made it impossible to doubt he was sincere.

I was crazy to ever think I’d gotten my skimming past him.

With the kinds of hours he pulled, first to the office in the morning and last to leave, there was probably nothing he missed.

How does he do that if he’s working here at night?

It was a reasonable assumption that he was only here on Friday nights and over the weekends.

“If you’re looking for a handout, I’m not your guy either.” He linked his hands over the top of the table and rolled his thumbs over each other. Making it hard for me not to think about the fact that every time they moved, tiny muscles on the bottom of his bicep dipped running all down to the top of his forearm. Drawing attention to their tanned, lean lines.

I’d not have thought Porter would be caught dead in rolled up sleeves on a button up. Much less one that looked painted on.

I certainly wasn’t objecting.

Then his words fully set in.

“I’ll pay you back!” I defended. “I didn’t mean ‘give give’.”

“How are you going to do that when you had to steal it to begin with?”

I glowered. “I will. Pay you. Back.”

“That’s good.”

“But it’s going to take some time.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know.” I slumped back again. “Long enough to get my feet under me.”

“Why the Meridian account?”

“It’s Logan’s.” I looked away. Not wanting to meet his gaze.

“How you know? His name’s not on it.”

“No, but he’s shady like that. Likes to be secretive. He opened it the same day as two other accounts. And I’m sure he thought he was hiding funds in-case I decided to go after him for money.”

“You didn’t?” He lifted a hand to trace his jawline. Eyeing me thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Not a penny?”

“Not one. I just skimmed that account when I really need it.” I choked on the words. “For mom.”

“Why not ask him for the money?”

I looked away. “I’d rather go to prison then pay him what he’ll want.”

“He’ll want you.” He filled in.

“For a few nights.” I flinched. Feeling my stomach heave at the thought. That would destroy my pride.

And what was left of my withered little black soul.

“Fine.” He straightened. Looking at me passively across the table. Pinning me with those bright green eyes.

I opened my mouth to clarify but a man dressed similarly to Porter rushed over.

“There’s a problem, Boss.”

***

Boss?

“One minute.” Porter lifted a finger pointedly at me, signaling he’d be right back.

Ah, hell no. This shit, I’ve got to see!

As fast as he could slide out to walk next to the man, getting a flash briefing as they crossed the club.

I was out and on his heels.

A few guys whistled as I walked by.

A couple tried to grind on me as I went by. But most just eyed my outfit and assumed I wasn’t looking for a good time.

Clearly the smart ones.

We reached a scene where two men were arguing. One gripping the other by the jazzy color of a fancy overdone suit. The other shoved him off and they were glaring at each other like two pitbulls sizing up.

Both of them looked trim and ready to fight.

Clearly already drunk.

What’s Porter going to do?

“Kane…” I heard a girl whine next to me. “You are here.”

“Kane?” Another woman a distance away, whirled around. Long red hair whipping in her haste to lay eyes on him.

“Darling.” A skinny brunette appeared from the bar to step into his way, bringing him to a stop. “I must chat with you.”

“Not now.” He caught her by the waist and lifted her from his path to set her aside.

Like dismissing a child.

She crossed her arms and glared furiously.

“Hold up!” He barked from a distance away. The two men flipped to see him.

Along with everyone else between he and them.

One of the two men, the smaller one, shrank backward. Eyeing Porter worriedly.

They’ve obviously had an encounter before. And from the looks of it, Porter won.

That sounded weird, even just thinking it.

“You boys having a problem?”

“No, Kane.” The one that hadn’t cowered, the taller of the two, said quickly. “Just an argument amongst friends. We’re good. Right, Mitch?”

Bayard held fist out toward the littler man who quickly fist bumped before assuring, Porter. “Yeah. We good.”

“Hmm.” Kane had muscled arms crossed over that fitted black shirt, ominously. Looking at them like they’d just crawled from beneath a rock.

“No trouble.” The taller one vowed. Putting his hands up in surrender. He tossed his head for the other to follow.

They vanished onto the dance floor.

With new attitudes, it looks like.