Page 33 of Reclaimed

“It’s new,” I mumble.

“Isla, who is that?” she asks again, her tone nearly shrill.

“Oh, sorry, you’re still on the phone.” Aiden widens his eyes and mouths,tell her!

I turn around and slap my index finger perpendicular to my lips with an expression that saysshut the hell up.

“I’ll tell you later. Promise. Got to go!” I stab the red button and my phone clatters to the table. My shoulders slump in defeat.

“I take it you didn’t tell her?”

The glare I send his way is heated. “You take it I didn’t tell her that her brother-in-law is at my house at seven in the morning? What do you think?”

He shrugs. “I think it’s fine.”

My groan gets lost in the screech of my chair legs as I stand. “This is fake. We haven’t even kissed yet, and you want to letyour sister in-law think we had a sleepover? One that would lead her to believe that we’re fucking?”

Aiden leans his shoulder against the wall at his back. “People tend to fuck in relationships.”

“But wearen’t.”

The irritation I feel inside consumes me. The emotion is safe. Much safer than the other things I feel when I’m in the same room as Aiden Powell. If I don’t keep him back with anger, I’m liable to do something I might regret.

Like kiss that stupid, arrogant smirk off his face.

10

Aiden

Fucking hell,my shoulders hurt. I roll the joints, wincing at the way they pop in the tense sockets. Sleeping on the couch with two fucked up shoulders isn’t for the weak, I’ll say that much. The gunshot might be healed but the lingering ache isn’t something I expect to be rid of anytime soon.

The loud music at XO’s throbs in my skull, and for the first time in months, I’m not enjoying my visit. Don’t get me wrong. Isla is sexy as always strutting her sweet ass on that stage, but I’m not here to watch her dance.

I’m here to keep her safe.

And part of that job means that I can’t focus solely on her three-song set and the way she shimmies and works that pole between her curvy legs, no matter how much I want to devour her heart-stopping performance.

My attention remains on the sea of faces in the crowd, watching for anyone who’s paying her the wrong type of attention.

I’ve reclaimed my center front row table, now complete with areservedsign until I come in during each of her shifts. The story I was told is Isla threatened to quit if Manny didn’t honor the accommodation, and since her boss isn’t eager to see his prime dancer walk out on him, he obliged. Begrudgingly.

If he hadn’t been a total ass I would have paid a hold fee, but I like Isla’s way a lot better. Her method is easier on the wallet.

I toss back a swallow of the vodka neat. The chilled drink leaves a ring of condensation on the table. It’s my only one of the night. A token to ease my overactive sense of awareness.

The usual crowd fills the space. Eager old crusties, as Isla calls them. The typical bachelor party getting their last hurrah before one of the boys is off the market. Men still wearing their wedding rings claiming to their wives they’re working late, sipping drinks with colleagues after a long day at the office. This is the only joint in the county, so most of these guys drive in from out of town, which makes finding someone who doesn’t quite fit in a difficult endeavor. If we were at The Rocks, I could name every person in that bar. Out here, most everyone is a stranger.

They didn’t even bother to increase security. The usual guard stands watch at the front door and the back hall. The shithead Isla was arguing with last week,Lucien,prowls around the main floor spending equal amounts of time flirting with the waitstaff as he does keeping an eye on things.

I don’t like that guy. There’s something off about him, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

A thunderous applause snaps me from my scrutiny. The dimming of stage lights alerts me to the end of Isla’s set. Calls ofStellahave me out of my seat, tossing back the remainder of my glass.

I breathe out sharply at the bite of vodka, toss down a tip, and slide on my leather jacket over my white tee. Minnesota was gifted with a week of dipping temperatures, heralding the returnof fall. I flip the bill of my cap forward and adjust the fit on my forehead. Then I position myself at the mouth of the hall to wait for Isla to change her clothes.

She walks out a few minutes later pulling the long curly cascade of brown hair over her shoulder.

God, she’s gorgeous.

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