It’d been a few days since he’d shown up at Mac’s house with pizza and had another epic night of sex. Somehow, he’d stayed away, making excuses and forcing himself to put some distance between himself and one night of mind-blowing sex with a woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.
This supposedly casual fling with Mac was turning into anything but, and his distance remedy didn’t heal his sickness. If anything, his desire for Mac bordered on epidemic.
He prayed Trudy wasn’t working tonight. He could ask where she was, have one beer, and leave.
Opening the door, he entered the dark bar, pausing for his eyes to adjust. Trudy stood behind the counter mixing drinks. When she saw him, a slow, calculating smile crossed her face, reminding him of Mac’s cat when it sized him up from its perch on the top of her headboard.
He didn’t trust either Trudy or the cat, and he suspected the feeling was mutual. Yet earning Trudy’s trust should be an easy feat for a man gifted with his persuasive abilities and charm. Most likely, he’d get the info if he was willing to take it to the limit—only he wasn’t sure he could. Not after being buried inside Mac.
Bruiser slid onto the barstool closest to Trudy and ignored the curious stares of the other patrons. He pulled his baseball cap farther over his forehead. Perhaps between that and the two-day beard, he’d be unrecognizable.
She slid her gaze appreciatively over the muscles in his arms. “So, you’re slummin’ with the common folk. Must be a slow day.”
Bruiser offered her a slow half smile, the one ladies told him dripped with sex appeal. “Yeah, I’m a little bored.” He caught her quick glance behind him, obviously checking to see if he was alone. Without asking what he wanted, she popped the top on a microbrew and slid it across the counter. Bruiser took a long pull then met her gaze.
“You remembered.”
“I always remember what my customers drink, especially ones that look like you.”
Bruiser held his beer bottle up in a salute.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Mac?” Trudy’s shrewd gaze didn’t seem to miss a thing, a definite challenge to his powers of persuasion.
“No deal. Just know each other through work. Never met her dad until the other night.” At least that much was true. He leaned forward, faked interest he didn’t feel, forced his gaze to roam over the curves revealed by her tight, low-cut shirt. Her nipples stood out against the fabric. Normally, that would’ve turned him on; instead, it repulsed him.
“He’s a crazy-assed old man.”
“You think?” Bruiser fought the urge to rip her a new one, even though what she said was probably true. “No shit.”
“He stalked Sonja like she’s some common criminal and he’s a fucking FBI agent.”
“Is she a common criminal?” The minute the words escaped, he regretted them.
Trudy’s eyes narrowed to little slits. “You sure they didn’t put you up to this?”
Bruiser scrambled to do damage control. “Why the hell would I do something for them? I barely know either of them.”
She scowled and suspicion played across her features.
“Aw, come on. Surely, you’ve heard enough about me to know I’m in it for myself. What do they have to offer me?”
Trudy nodded slowly, as if the truth finally dawned on her. “Yeah, I can believe that. Fucking Mac would be like being with your brother.”
Bruiser bit the side of his cheek until he tasted blood. Hell, Mac had more sex appeal in her genuine smile than Trudy had in her entire fake body and made-up face. But now was not the time to defend Mac’s honor. “Yeah, she’s like one of the guys.”
“But I’m not.” Trudy moved closer to him, toyed with the collar of his shirt. Bruiser held his breath, trying not to cringe. One of the patrons yelled across the room for another beer.
“Hey, hold on to your shorts. I’ll be right there.” Trudy shot the man a murderous look, then ran a red-tipped fingernail across Bruiser’s chin and gave him a come-fuck-me look as she poured her patron a drink.
Bruiser let out his breath as soon as Trudy and her perfume moved out of his space. Fuck. Damn. Hell. He’d pretty much have to fuck the woman to get any information out of her. Possibly more than once.
He didn’t know if he could do that. Not that she was bad looking, and she had a nice body even if a little overdone, but hell, what would Mac say?
And why did he care what Mac said? He was doing this for her after all. She should say thank you. Yeah, right, like any decent woman alive would thank him for stooping that low.
Trudy came back to the bar and leaned across the counter, making sure that her boobs just about fell out of her tight shirt. Bruiser glanced down and found the entire spectacle boring. What the hell was wrong with him? One night with Mac, and he couldn’t appreciate another woman, especially one with assets like Trudy’s on display?
Taking a deep breath and begging forgiveness, Bruiser stuck to his script. “Mac’s a piece of work. How well do you know her?”
Trudy eyed him with enough street-smart wariness to alert him that he hadn’t reeled her in yet. “Not well, just what her sister-in-law has told me.” She slid up next to him, her perfume preceding her, and rubbed the back of his neck. Bruiser stiffened for a moment then willed himself to relax.
“Yeah, from what I heard from the guys on the team, it’s sorta tragic, but after all the years, time to move on, don’t you think?” Bruiser pasted an innocent expression on his face.
Trudy chewed on her lower lip for a moment. A slow, malicious smile crossed her face. He’d never done innocent well, but Trudy apparently bought his act. She leaned down and spoke in a throaty whisper. “They’ll never find him.”
“Is that speculation
