Page 75 of Daddy's Wild Girl

“I’m not,” Shakespeare said dryly. “And I have feelings.”

“Do you mind?” Corbin said. “We’re having a private conversation.”

“We’re not exactly in a cone of silence,” she grumbled at him.

“No, you’re standing a few feet away from us in a room with good acoustics. Now, do I get to have a hug from my best girl, or are you gonna let your jealousy get the best of you again?” Shakespeare asked.

Corbin whirled toward the big guy. “I’m her bodyguard. I wasn’t jealous of you.”

“Uh-huh. All the boyfriends and husbands are jealous of Shakespeare.” He smiled his creepy smile again. “Come here, Bebe-girl.” He gestured at her.

Bebe threw herself at him.

Shakespeare was wrong.

He wasn’t jealous.

He was possessive. And he wasn’t certain if that was worse.

19

After a rocky entrance to the club, she’d been worried about how Corbin and Hayes would behave once they got downstairs.

She guessed this place was a bit strange to newcomers. There was no natural light. Not that anyone in here cared. You had to walk down a flight of stairs to get to Callahan’s. It was actually a fairly large space once you got down there. A bar ran along one wall. To the side were doors that led to the bathrooms. Behind the bar were private staff areas. It was all kind of simple. The walls were a rough brick and had a few paintings—all of them were of the English countryside. Tables and chairs were set around in a seemingly random pattern.

Above them, lights flickered and sometimes went out.

It smelled a bit musty—like spilled beer and body odor. But it wasn’t overpowering or enough to turn you off. It was just part of the experience.

Or that’s how she viewed it.

“Come on, I’ll get Churchill to make you your favorite,” Shakespeare said as he pushed through the crowd of people.She tried to follow him, but Corbin wrapped an arm around her waist.

Okay. She was getting tired of all the touching.

Uh-huh, sure you are.

Or are you tired of the fact that he only touches you to move you places or after you’ve had a nightmare or fallen from your skateboard?

Because you want him to touch you in other ways.

Like when you nearly kissed . . .

Time to stop.

“What’s wrong now?” she asked.

“Hayes will go in front and I’ll go behind you. No wandering off without us.”

Oh. Right.

With a nod, she followed Hayes as he made his way to the bar. Shakespeare was standing behind the bar next to Churchill, a tall and handsome man with a moustache and trimmed beard. His muscular arms were crossed loosely over his chest as he watched her carefully.

She gave him a nod to let him know she was all good.

These guys were her friends. As well as most of the other people who worked here. And some of the regulars.

This is where she came when she was feeling down and life was getting to her. Of course, that wasn’t always possible since she couldn’t spend all her time down here.

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