Their waiters, all wearing next to nothing, kept coming by their party to pour their drinks and flirt. Now that they’d been in the woman-filled room for an hour, and the crowd had grown considerably, the noise level was close to deafening. Avery decided it was time for some bride attention.

Once Mr. Cowboy finished his set and his chaps had found their way to the side of the stage, Avery flagged over their concierge. At that moment, two of the best dancers flanked Trina and took her to the stage.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes!”

Trina didn’t put up much of a fight. Blushing and more than a little tipsy, Trina sat center stage.

“Welcome Trina to the stage.”

Their party cheered the loudest.

“You’re looking a little nervous, darlin’.”

Trina couldn’t talk. She was too busy smiling.

“When is the big day?” Stud Number Two asked.

“Next Saturday,” she said into the microphone.

“That gives us plenty of time,” Stud Number One said.

The music started, and the men turned on like a switch had been thrown.

Like something out of Magic Mike, there was flesh, and push-ups . . . and taking Trina out of the chair and laying her on a bench. She would reach out when encouraged, and laughed with the fun of it all.

Somewhere in the middle of Trina’s wedding dance, Avery felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

Flushed and slightly embarrassed, Trina left the stage and dropped into her chair. “I’m going to make that up to you,” she told Avery.

“I look forward to it.”

“Where were you guys when I was getting married?” Andrea said.

“In elementary school?” Lori teased.

Avery moved back to the man in charge of their party and pulled out her wallet. With lap dances ordered for them, the married women offered weak protests and then gave in.

Lost in watching, Avery felt her phone buzz again.

She checked the number and smiled. “Hold on,” she told Liam after she picked up. Avery moved to a balcony, where some women congregated to smoke or just escape the noise for a few minutes. “Hey,” she said once she could hear him.

“Sounds like quite the party.”

“We’re having a night to remember.”

“Really? I’ve never been to a bachelorette party.”

“That’s because you’re not a stripper.” She peeked through the glass.

“I thought only men went to strip clubs.”

“You’d be wrong.”

“My sister corrected me.”

Avery smiled at the thought of him asking his sister about the shenanigans of women at a prewedding party.

“So why are you calling, Liam?”

“Uhm . . . well,” he stuttered. “To say I was . . .”

“Checking on me?” He was totally checking on her.

“Of course not.”

“I don’t believe you.” Avery leaned against the wall, her back to the door.

He paused. “I’m thinking about you.”

Avery fell silent, her heart skipped a beat. “You knew I was out with the girls.”

“Yeah. I won’t keep you. I was thinking about you and wanted to let you know.”

Did she tell him she had thought about him multiple times during the night? Like when one of the bigger strippers had managed a backflip on the stage while taking off his Velcro shorts. The image of Liam bending over backward had her grinning.

“There you are.” Trina’s voice penetrated Avery’s brain. In a few steps, she was beside Avery, hands on hips. “Who are you talking to?”

“I’ve got to go,” Avery told Liam.

“That’s him, is-isn’t it?” Trina slurred her last words.

When Avery didn’t comment, Trina reached for her phone.

Avery attempted to grab it back and gave up when Trina put the phone to her ear. “Is this Liam?”

Trina grinned like a kid. “Uh-huh . . .” She pulled the phone away from her ear. “He sounds cute.”

Avery tried to grab her phone again, failed. “What are we, thirteen?”

With her ear back to the phone, Trina went on. “I’m not drunk. Okay, maybe a little. Oh, don’t worry. My fiancé’s bodyguard is right outside.” She pulled the phone away from her face again. “He’s worried about me. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Give me the phone.” Avery placed her palm out.

Trina lifted a finger in the air. “You’re coming to the wedding, right?”

Avery’s jaw dropped.

“Well, consider yourself invited. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Avery mouthed the words I’m going to kill you.

“Oh, good,” Trina said. “Okay, I’m going to give the phone back to Avery and hide. Nice chatting with you.”

Avery yanked the phone from Trina’s hands.

“You’re welcome,” Trina said before disappearing behind the door and into the club.

“She’s drunk,” Avery told Liam.

“I like your friend.”

“Good thing I do, too, or I’d kill her.”

“Is there really a bodyguard there?”

Avery thought about Jeb. “Yes.”

“I feel better.”

“Because I can’t take care of myself?”

“Someone is jumping to conclusions again. No . . . I of all people know you can fend for yourself. But a gaggle of drinking females always gathers the attention of drinking males. And since I’m a couple of states away, it’s nice to know someone has your back.”

“Oh.” He really was sweet.

Someone knocked on the glass, jerking her attention back to the party.

Lori waved her back inside.

“I have to go. I’m in charge and need to order more lap dances.”

“Lap dances, huh?”

“Yes. Where almost naked men strut and women scream.”

“You’re torturing me.”

“I am? I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

Avery opened the door to the club, and the thump of the bass strangled their conversation.

“You’re right. I’m not. I’ll text you later and let you know if we need bail money.” She hung up.

“Avery! Get your blonde butt over here and say hi to my friend,” Lori yelled.

It was Avery’s turn for the dancing cowboy in a leather Speedo.

Chapter Fourteen

It took twenty-four hours to sober Trina up enough to send her off with her fiancé and for Avery to fly back to LA. Avery scrambled to cram a full work week into three days and agreed to meet with Liam for a sparring match during her Tuesday krav session. He’d checked in with her twice since the strip club: once after she’d sent him a text with the local sheriff’s department’s phone number as a hoax, saying he could find her there for the next seventy-two hours, and the other time after she’d gotten off her flight back into LA on Sunday night. Now she was racing from her condo to the studio, determined to be on time.

She was five minutes late.

“You’re making a habit of this, Grant,” Brenda snarled at the door.

Liam caught her attention with his smile.

Was it her, or had his shoulders grown in the week they’d not seen each other?

“How was your date?” Avery asked Brenda in an effort to change the subject.

“Your warm-up is on the board.”

Already dressed in spandex, Avery dropped her gym bag at the door and lifted her arms over her head to stretch as she walked farther into the room. “Hey.”

“Hey back. You look surprisingly vertical, considering the weekend.”

Avery glanced at the warm-up. Fifty burpees . . . again?

She sat on the mat, put her legs out in front of her, and reached for her toes. “I wasn’t the one who was toasted. That was Trina. And Lori, surprisingly.”

“Lori the lawyer?”

“Yup. She almost never lets loose that way.” Finished with her stretches, Avery stood to start her routine. “Are you finished with the burpees?”

“Haven’t started.”

“Waiting for me?”

He lowered his voice. “If I finished before you got here, I’d be forced to watch you do yours.” His eyes traveled the length of her. “That’s distracting.”

Heat traveled up her neck.

“Less talking. More doing!” Brenda yelled from her office.

Avery jumped in the air and then shot to the ground for a push-up. “I’m going to buy that woman a T-shirt that says that.”

Liam followed her burpee lead.

An hour and a half later they were at Pug’s, settled in a back booth.

“I think your client would be an idiot not to remodel that house and get as much as he can for it.”

Liam had given her an estimate with a lot of zeros.

“That’s what I came up with. The real estate agent I spoke with is already encouraging the owner to fix the place up.”

“Does he have the capital to do the work?”

Avery thought the question was comical. “There’s enough wealth inside the house to renovate it three times over. If he didn’t have money in the bank, and I’m sure he does, he could wait for the auctions to close to fund the job. I don’t think it’s about money as much as it is painful memories in the house.”