Page 7 of Yours for the Taking (Falling For A Rose)

Shimmying through a pack of people holding the bar hostage, Carla threw her hand up and snapped her fingers.

“Bartender!”

A cute guy, drenched in cinnamon skin, wide lips, and a short afro, lifted his chin as if to ask for her drink preference.

The phone hanging on the wall behind the bar rang suddenly, grabbing the bartender’s attention.

Carla pursed her lips and checked her razor-sharp shoulder-length bob in the bar wall’s mirror. Deciding she was fine as wine, she turned her eyes around the place, finally searching the crowd for Genesis Rising.

As expected, they were nowhere in sight.

“Probably backstage,” she murmured.

“What can I get you?”

Carla turned sharply to see the bartender standing on the opposite side of the bar with his full attention on her.

Her lips rose delightfully. “A Sex on the Beach, please.”

“Coming right up.” He made the drink in front of her, slid a napkin toward her, and placed the glass on top. “Anything else?”

Carla withdrew her Visa. “Not at the moment.” She handed it over.

“It’s on the house.”

Her brows rose. “Whose house, because my rent is high enough?”

The bartender laughed. “You’re funny; you know that?”

Carla shrugged. “I get that sometimes.”

“If you need anything else, let me know.”

He went to walk away.

“Wait a minute!”

Turning back, Carla said, “No, seriously, I need to pay for this drink.”

“Not according to the boss man.”

Carla frowned, then grimaced.Lord,she wondered,who was the boss man?

Carla could admit to being promiscuous in her past; well, more like as of about six months ago. But she’d been working to hold out for Jacob. Now she had to worry about somebody she’d possibly been intimate with owning this damn club and thinking he’d be owning her by the nights’ end.

Carla took in a deep breath. “Sir, I would really rather pay for the drink. I don’t want to owe anyone anything,” she said, emphasizinganything, “By the end of the night.”

The bartender smirked and lifted his chin. “Tell him that, then.”

Turning in the direction of his suggestion, Carla’s eyes fluttered around until they landed on broad shoulders. Her eyes rose up his thick neck, dark chocolate skin, a goatee, and full lips that spread into a gorgeous smile. The brightness of his teeth lit up the place, but it didn’t stop her perusal of his wide nose, dark penetrating gaze, thick brows, and low-cut fade.

Got damn.

Her entire body steamed as he approached her. Blue jeans accommodated his elongated stride, a thin, light blue button-down shirt opened at the collar, stretched over his muscular exterior.

Jacob Alexander Rose bit down on his lip, and the crowd opened for him as if he were Moses parting the Red Sea.

This was one time Carla had wished she had boned the owner—but she would keep that tidbit to herself.

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