Heroic Measures (Blackbridge Security 6)

“What is on the menu?” he asks flirtatiously.

“Lots of things,” I say, my tone laced with innuendo. “Where do your interests lie?”

His eyes dart to the apex of my thighs, and I feel… nothing.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

“I sure hope you’re really thirsty,” I tease.

“Parched.”

“Can I start you off with a beer?”

“Whiskey.” His tongue snakes out, and even though my body isn’t responding the way I’m pretending it is, I know his responses would normally turn me on.

“Top shelf?”

“Always.”

He settles on a stool as I turn to make his drink. Tyson winks at me, but I ignore him as well. I’m too stuck in my own head to concern myself with him right now.

While pouring the two fingers of whiskey, I tell myself that I’m going to flirt with this handsome man until I feel something. When I turn back with a bright smile, I make a point to lean over the bar as far as I can. He doesn’t disappoint, his eyes darting right to the swell of my breasts over my uniform top, a tight black corset.

I wink at him as I walk away to help another customer, and I can feel his eyes burning into me the entire time I’m gone.

By the time I make it back to him, his glass is empty.

“Another?”

“I may have plans later. I don’t want to end up sloppy.”

“That so? Got a hot date?”

“Maybe.” His teeth scrape over his bottom lip as his eyes go all dreamy.

This used to work for me. Guys like him were the reason I started going after the shy ones periodically. My shy guys were my palate cleansers from the men who talked a big game and were able to back it up. This guy has so much machismo to his movements and words, I have no doubt he’d be able to satisfy in the bedroom, yet I still don’t feel it.

Standing here flirting with him feels the same as it does when I flirt with the guys who never stand a chance to see me out of my clothes.

“What time do you get off?”

“Midnight,” I answer even though it’s actually eleven. Even my brain knows I don’t want to go home with him.

“Do you have any plans after work?”

“I might,” I say, continuing the ruse.

“With your boyfriend?” Now he’s fishing. Maybe he has the same standards as me and won’t hook up with someone who’s with someone else. This should fire me right up, but alas… nothing.

“I’m—” I pause, unsure of what to say, but I answer him honestly, “Unattached.”

“Lucky me,” he says, running a finger up the back of my hand that’s resting on the bar.

“Maybe,” I say with a shrug, keeping up the ruse of playing hard to get.

The front door opens, drawing my eyes just like it has every other time tonight. My blood runs cold with guilt when I look up.

Jude stands just inside of the door. I know he can assess the situation, and even though I owe him nothing, it doesn’t stop the guilt from him seeing me with this other man’s hand on mine or the way I’m leaning on the bar top with my tits practically spilling out of my top.

I don’t jerk away. I’m not doing anything wrong. Not because I consider this my job, but because we aren’t an item.

His face is an impassive lack of emotion, and when he gives me a slight nod before turning around and walking right back out, I feel the threat of tears burn the backs of my eyes.

I don’t try to catch him. I’d never chase after a man. Doing so gives him more power than I’d ever relinquish, but I do feel guilty. That alone makes me hate him a little, makes me regret walking up to him at the gun range weeks ago and handing over the card with my address on it.

I should be relieved that he has walked away because he was making it impossible for me to do that very thing. But something else, something I refuse to name, swims in my stomach turning it sour.

I pull back from the handsome stranger when another customer flags me down for a refill. I avoid him long enough that he sets his sights on a brunette that sits down beside him. When they get up and leave together forty-five minutes later, I feel a little regret, hating that my sex life has somehow managed to go from casual to complicated without me even knowing it.

Chapter 21

Jude

Reorganizing the books in my home office isn’t working the way I thought it would. Any other time I need to take my mind off something, this usually works. I get easily distracted reading bits and pieces of each book as I handle them, laughing over things I’ve read before and getting drawn down a rabbit hole with things I’ve yet made the time to enjoy. It’s always been the perfect way for me to clear my head so I can later come back and attack a situation from a different angle.