Page 8 of Securing the Odds

Her brows rose in surprise. “I didn’t know you were Scottish.”

He dipped his head in a nod. “On my dad’s side. The family tries to get together every few years. It’s a big celebration.”

“And you wear a kilt?” Was that a hint of disbelief in her voice?

He shrugged. “The older generations are big on tradition. They go all out. Highland games. Dancing and bagpipe competitions.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I’ll take you with me next time.” She looked at him as though she thought he were joking, but he was fucking serious. He’d love to have her on his arm, introducing her ashisto his family.

Ignoring the look, he opened the door to the guest room and cringed. He’d forgotten how much crap was still stored in there. “You can use the master, I’ll sleep in here,” he said, backing them out of the room.

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to throw you out of your bedroom. This is fine.”

Boxes filled a wide corner of the room, a few extra pieces of furniture that he hadn’t been able to decide where to put filled another, and the bed was stripped bare. He couldn’t, in good conscience, let her stay there. He was shaking his head before he even started speaking. “The master has an attached bath. You’ll be more comfortable in there.”

She tugged her suitcase out of his hand—he’d grabbed it before coming upstairs—and tossed it on the bed. “I’m a small person. I don’t need much space. Just find me a blanket and pillow, and I’ll be fine.”

He knew arguing with her at that point was useless, so he led her to his home office instead. Taking a seat behind his desk, he fired up his computer. After a minute, he noticed Tammy was still standing where he’d left her by the door. He laughed, “You coming in?”

She seemed to snap out of a daze, and she returned his laugh, but hers sounded forced. “Sorry, throwback reaction. I wasn’t allowed in Kevin’s office. He, um…” she kicked at the floor with her toe, “would get really mad if I went in when he wasn’t around. Later on, he started locking it. It became a big contention between us. I didn’t like that he was hiding things from me.”

Jake’s humor died an instant death to be replaced with anger. Anger at her douche of an ex-husband. “You don’t need to worry about that here.”

She shook her head, giving him a smirk as if she thought herself ridiculous. “I know.” She stepped farther into the room, pulled a chair closer to the desk, then sat down. “What first?”

“First, we make some phone calls.”

The phone callsended up fruitless. Even Amy hadn’t heard from the dickhead in months. Jake glanced at the time at the bottom of the screen of his computer then threw Tammy a grin. “You pack a sexy outfit you can change into?”

Chapter 4

Busty’s was exactlyas Tammy envisioned it would be—right down to the gaudy, flashing neon sign proclaimingNude Nude Nudehanging above a run-down building smack dab in the middle of a seedy neighborhood.

And the interior wasn’t much better.

Walking in, she was hit with the smell of stale beer mixed with body odor hanging thickly in the air. And she didn’t even want to know what was making her shoes stick to the floor.

A large stage was the predominant feature and currently a very busty—no pun intended—woman was shaking her thing, wearing nothing but a scrap of a G-string, high heels, and a smile.

The place was surprisingly crowded for a Wednesday night. Butts filled all the stools at the bar, all the tables in the center of the room, and most of the booths along the side wall. There were five women visible, the blonde up on stage, three cocktail waitresses making rounds, and herself.

To say she felt conspicuous would be an understatement. Even her choice of attire didn’t fit in. On the off chance she needed one, she'd packed a dress. Just apparently not sexy enough. Though she had a feeling Jake wouldn’t agree if his slacked jaw and blazing eyes when he’d first seen her all dressed up had been any indication. Though short—hitting her mid-thigh—with a scooped neckline that showed a fair amount of cleavage, her black dress couldn’t compete with the amount of skin both the dancer and waitstaff were sporting. Add to that she was the only female patron, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.

Jake had hold of her hand as he scoped the place out, his eyes landing on individual faces throughout the room, his expression growing more and more disgruntled the longer he looked. “I’m not seeing the prick. Are you?”

She reluctantly pulled her eyes from Jake and started scanning faces, skipping over the ones in uniform. She didn’t spot Kevin.

She shook her head. “I don’t see him, either.”

“Let’s grab a table.”

Jake led her to one of the few empty booths at the side of the room, and she scooted across the chilly vinyl. Jake didn’t take the seat across from her but slid in on her side and settled so he was flush against her, their hips and thighs touching.

Surprisingly, with the crowd, it didn’t take long for a waitress to show at their table. “What can I get you?” She pulled a notepad from the back pocket of her short shorts and a pen from the cleavage exposed by the low cut of her tight-fitting, belly-baring tee.

With her straight, blond hair pulled into a high, bang-less ponytail, leaving her face fully visible and her makeup heavy but artfully done, she was pretty. And she had a body any sane woman would die for.

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