Perfect Chaos

“The Tiger bar.”

I smile. “Want some company?”

“Always.”

“Be there in twenty.” I hang up and reach to flick on some music, but something catches my eye across the road.

Lainey.

I follow her path with my eyes as she walks toward the entrance of a hotel, and when she comes to a stop at the bottom of the steps, she takes a call, glancing around. She’s looking for someone. Her friend?

A loud honk from the car behind startles me, and I look up to see the lights have switched to green. I indicate right, taking the turn and pulling up across the road from the hotel entrance. What the fuck am I doing? “Stalking, Ty,” I say to myself. But I’m curious. I can’t fucking help it.

Lainey hangs up, and a few seconds later a man comes out of the hotel and strides down the steps. A suited man. Definitely older. “Please don’t,” I say without thought, wincing when he smiles, clearly thrilled to see her. Who wouldn’t be? An unprompted growl erupts, causing me to look around my car to check I’m alone and no one witnessed that ridiculous display of . . . what? What was that? I ignore my own question and watch as the guy, who I’m definitely putting at mid-fifties, approaches Lainey and greets her with a kiss. It’s a kiss that is far too familiar for this to be a first date. I suck back another threatening growl, but when he puts his arm around her waist and rests his palm on her bum, there’s no reason to be found to stop me snarling. Good God, I’m jealous. I’ve never been jealous in my life. “Creep,” I mutter, watching him walk her up the steps, keeping her close.

Before I know what’s happened, I’m out of the car and dodging the traffic as I cross the road. I make no room in my head to wonder what the hell I’m doing. I’m on autopilot. What I’m going to do once I make it to the hotel is something else I’m not spending any time considering. All I know is my brain wants me in that hotel and my body seems cool with following my dumb brain.

Pushing my way through the revolving door, I scan the reception area, just catching sight of Lainey and the man wandering into the bar. I follow them, entering the small, intimate space, finding only a handful of people frequenting the area. Well, this limits any scope for going undetected while I stalk a woman that works for me.

Now, the sensible thing to do here would be to back up and get my arse the fuck out of here before she spots me and I land myself with a lawsuit for harassment. But I don’t. Instead, my stupid feet take me to the end of the bar, and my stupid arse puts itself on a stool. And my stupid mouth orders a drink.

They’ve settled in the far corner at a cozy table for two, and though Lainey’s back is to me, she would only have to turn a smidgen in order to see me. For a smart man, Christianson, you’re not being all too smart right now.

A tumbler slides toward me, and I rest back in my chair, quietly watching as the guy, who I now definitely put at mid-fifties, moves in closer to Lainey. And then I follow his hand as it creeps toward her leg and rests on her thigh. My shoulders tense. It’s all a bit too familiar for my liking. She was waiting for someone in Long Bar last night. This decrepit dick? She didn’t even flinch when he moved in for the touch, seemed totally comfortable with it. She’s playing it too easy, especially after he stood her up and—

My thoughts grind to a stop and rewind, back to when I first met Lainey. She told me it was a blind date. A blind date suggests she didn’t know who the bloke was, and she definitely knows who this bloke is. What’s going on? Is he potentially her Mr. Perfect? I laugh to myself. I doubt it. But what the fuck do I care? I need to get a grip. She’s an employee, I remind myself for the thousandth time. What she does in her personal time is not my concern, and it’s definitely of no consequence to Christianson Walker. What the hell am I doing here?

I down my drink and get up from my stool, digging in my pocket for my wallet. I throw a twenty on the bar and walk out, not looking back, my sense suddenly found.

As I push my way through the revolving door, someone accidentally catches my arm, and I turn to apologize. “Sor—” My words fade to nothing when I find who’s bumped into me, and I quickly realize it was no accident. Her lovely hand is wrapped around my wrist, showing no signs of letting go. I adamantly ignore the prickles of pleasure sinking into the skin under my shirt.