“Fine.” I was not going there with him.

“Her insane amount of hair stuff isn’t driving your OCD nuts?”

“I don’t have OCD.” I liked things neat. Orderly. In their place. Go figure, I was panting after the one woman who wouldn’t let me keep things that way. She left stuff everywhere.

“Right. Well, I’m glad you’re getting along.”

“I grew up sharing a bathroom with four sisters. I think I can handle some hair crap on the counter.” What I couldn’t handle? The way the bathroom smelled like her after a shower, all vanilla and caramel. I got a raging hard-on just walking in.

“She rattles you.”

I ignored him and stared out of the window, watching the outskirts of Dothan fly by as we reached the edge of the small city. If I couldn’t come to grips with the effect Sam had on me, I sure as hell wasn’t using it as bonding time with Jagger.

“I don’t mean to pry—”

“Then don’t.”

“She’s been through a lot lately.” His hands tightened on the wheel.

“Yeah, and she needs someone to get her back on her feet, not coddle her. She’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

“And you’re her person?”

“I’m not anyone’s person. But I do know what it is to mess up your life.” I couldn’t go back and fix mine. I was too far gone, my path concrete. But Sam’s? Maybe I could help with that, even earn a few karma points.

“Want to talk about—”

“No.” I looked back out the window as we stopped at the red light and—“You have to be fucking kidding me.” My hands morphed into fists, and I sucked my breath in through my teeth.

“Wow. I think I’ve heard you swear like…twice?” Jagger jerked his gaze to me, then back to the road as the light turned green.

“Pull the car over. Now.”

“At the strip club? Dude, I’m not sure now is the time—”

“Now!”

He swerved across the open lane and into the dirt parking lot in front of the small, ridiculously pink building. “Okay, well, you’re on your own, because Paisley will fucking kill… Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

He pulled into an empty spot. Right next to a bright yellow cabriolet with Colorado plates.

“What the hell do you think Sam is doing here?”

I’m going job hunting… “Nothing good. Go home. I got this.”

My feet hit the ground before Jagger killed the ignition. The Alabama heat matched my temper, both overrunning my senses. I swallowed back the immediate urge to rip the building to shreds and remembered that I didn’t have all the facts…yet.

I opened the door, and the bouncer stood, eyeing me up before stepping back. We both knew I could have destroyed him if I wanted to. “ID?” he asked.

I handed mine over, and he scrutinized it, reading over my name several times while I did the same to his club. A skinny blonde was up on stage, wearing a cowboy hat and not much else, gyrating to a Kid Rock song while a few leering scumbags drooled.

“Here you go,” the bouncer handed my ID back and tried to size me up.

My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as I swept the club, spotting her sitting at the bar. Her skirt rode high on her thigh, and the guy she was talking to had definitely noticed.

“What experience do you have?” he asked, not noticing my approach.

“I took a year of pole classes back in Colorado, but only for exercise,” she answered, fingering a white piece of paper…an application. Fuck that. “I’d be a quick study at the bar, too.”

“Very nice,” the manager drawled, his eyes lingering on Sam’s cleavage, where her shirt was unbuttoned. “Let me give this a once-over and see what I can do.” He reached across to take her application, and she leaned back before he could brush up against her. He shot her a sick smile, then headed back behind the stage.

Something dark twisted in my stomach and threatened to erupt. Sam turned in her seat, offering me her profile as she watched the girl on stage. Her strong, sure facade slipped, and her swollen eyes turned dim. She looked like I’d felt the morning after…yeah, not going there.

I slid onto the barstool next to her, and her shoulders dropped. “What do you want, Grayson?”

“To get you out of here.”

“I’m on an interview.” Her spine straightened.

“This is your dream job?” What the hell was she thinking?

She threw me a look that clearly said I was an idiot. What? Like I was the one about to audition as a stripper?

“You know what I realized the last couple weeks? I have no money. My savings account can cover one last month of my cell phone bill. I have no job to make money. No college degree to get the job. Even the jobs that don’t need a degree? All full. I’ve spent three weeks searching out every job in Enterprise, Daleville, and Dothan. No one is hiring. I’m not going to freeload off of you guys while I figure out what the hell to do.”

“So this is what you want to do in the meantime? Work here?”

Her gaze hit the floor. “It’s the last thing I want. But these girls make a lot of money, and it beats the alternative of moving back in with my mother.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to see what that pole class taught you, this is not where you belong, Sam.” Shit. That is not what I meant to say. Not the first part, at least. The girl on stage hooked her leg around the pole and spun.