He refused to move, to stand, to walk over to her and dust his lips across that absolutely enticing neck, or wrap his arms around her slim waist and tug her close. Nope. He was holding out, so he’d parked himself in his usual spot at the table by the window after they closed for the night, laptop in front of him, reviewing the operations and emailing suppliers about outstanding orders and new inventory.
But even though she was all the way on the other side of the bar, he had been painfully aware of how close she was as she’d chatted with Jamie for the last half hour. He was a master of restraint, but this would be taxing to any man.
Thankfully, there was a knock on the window. Becker turned to see that Smith had pressed his face against the glass, smushing his mouth and nose against the pane. Becker managed a laugh, rose, and walked to the door and unlocked it.
Smith patted him on the back once. “How’s business tonight?”
“Excellent.”
“Got your nose in the books, I see? All work and no play…” Smith said, and trailed off his admonishment. Smith was a hard worker, ran his own contracting business, and had recently built out the expanded back section of the bar. But he also was probably a helluva lot better than Becker at letting go of the day and putting work behind him.
“Nice ass.”
Smith turned to the bar where Jamie was wiping down the counter and catcalling her boyfriend.
“Why, thank you, ma’am. I do believe you are its number one fan,” Smith said as he turned and patted his backside.
Megan swiveled around, joining Jamie in the hooting and hollering. For the briefest of moments, he envied her ease, her free spirit. Out of the corner of his eye, he lingered on the group, wanting to tear his gaze away from her but completely unable to. She caught his stare and flashed a grin in his direction. Lingered, too, her eyes locked on him, like she didn’t want to look away. Hell, he didn’t want to, either. He wanted everyone to leave, to pull down the blinds, lock the door, and lift her up on the bar and kiss the hell out of her. Feel her melt into his arms again.
He wanted that so much that it nearly pained him to look away.
“You gonna join us for a drink?” Smith asked him.
“I need to finish up this inventory analysis,” he said, staring at the computer screen.
“Then you definitely need a drink, even if it’s only a Shirley Temple.”
“I’ll catch you later, man,” Becker said. If he closed his laptop and joined them at the bar, he didn’t know that he’d be able to keep his hands off Megan. If he were in the same five-foot vicinity, he didn’t think he’d be able to resist running a thumb over her hip bone, watching the look in her eyes shift from playful to hungry as her lips parted and her breathing intensified. He wouldn’t say a word, he’d just grab her hand, pull her into the supply closet, and have an encore of the other night.
Numbers became his best friend now, and for the next several minutes he ran report after report on suppliers, on inventory, on the bar’s monthly sales until that was all that was in his head.
“Working hard?”
So much for his concentration. There she was, sliding into the seat across from him, fixing that sexy grin on him.
“Trying my best,” he said.
“You run a nice bar,” she said, waving her hand around to show the inside of the Panting Dog. “I was thinking about it when I was out for a hike this morning.”
“Glad you like it. Glad it kept you occupied on the trails.”
“It did and I do. I’m tempted to have another Chihuahua,” she said, lowering her voice as she mentioned the beer she’d had with him that first night.
“Yeah? You liked that Chihuahua?” He lifted an eyebrow, cautious about engaging in this sort of banter, but eager, too.
“I did. I liked it a lot,” she said, her mouth forming a gorgeous O on the last word.
He shut his eyes briefly, letting the quick bolt of lust roll through him. Then he opened them. “You’re making it hard to work,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Am I? Making it hard?”
He swallowed. His throat was dry. “Yes,” he said, his skin heating up. She glanced briefly at the bar. Smith and Jamie were laughing at something as they walked to the back section, leaving them alone.
“Megan,” he whispered as a warning.
“Yes?” she said, dropping her hand below the table and tap-dancing her fingers along his knee.
He drew a deep, fueling breath. “What are you doing to me?”
The expression on her face shifted from the flirty-playful look to a more serious one. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m supposed to be staying away from you.”
“Yeah, and vice versa.”
“My brother even told me to.”
“Did he?”
“Yep. He said he thought we were checking each other out at coffee the other day.”
He chuffed a humorless laugh. Travis was too f**king observant for his own good. Or maybe Becker was just too obvious. “Were we? Checking each other out?”
“Well, considering that was after you sent me all those naughty text messages, I would definitely have to say so,” she said, wiggling an eyebrow.
Now he laughed for real. “All those naughty text messages? If memory serves, there were only a few even sent.”
She shrugged happily. “Maybe then I was just thinking of all the other ones I wanted to send.”
Desire slammed into him once more, like a punishing wave. He had to stay very, very still, or else he’d have no choice but to get that woman na**d and up against the wall.