Before long, the group had ordered a couple of magnums of Armand de Brignac, two liters of Grey Goose, some Gran Patrón Platinum, and lots of Red Bull. Coop took his time coming to greet the pop star. Logan hopped up and gave him a couple of manly slaps on the back. Only a few days had passed since Coop had been attacked, and she noticed his nearly imperceptible wince. But as she stepped forward to intervene, he gave her a back-off glare.

She was growing increasingly frustrated by all the inventive ways Coop kept her from sticking close to him. This was her third night as the club’s sole female bouncer, and her attempts to get the other bouncers to step in had only increased their hostility. They’d disliked her before, but even more now that they’d been informed that Coop had originally hired her as a watchdog. She couldn’t shake her uneasiness about his safety. She’d have felt better if she’d been able to track down Keith and his girlfriend’s new address.

Word had gotten out that Logan Stray was in the club, and the crowd had reached capacity. Coop sat with the group for a while, drinking club soda and hating every minute, although he acted as genial as ever, so maybe she was imagining it. But turning himself into a nightclub impresario didn’t seem to be what Coop should be doing with his life.

Piper stopped him as he excused himself. “You’re hurting,” she whispered. “Take that ridiculous body of yours home and bury your head in one of those books you pretend not to read.”

He repaid her with his calculated heart-melter of a drawl. “You seem to be spending a lot of time thinking about my body. Too bad I haven’t made up my mind whether you’ll get to see any more of it.”

She swallowed. “That’s okay. I’m starting a relationship with...” For a fraction of a second she forgot his name. “With Eric. Our cop pal. We’re thinking about taking it to the next level.” And maybe they would, if she ever got around to returning his texts.

Coop seemed to tense up, or maybe not, because he sounded as laid-back as ever. “He’s a player.”

“I know, right? We’re a perfect match.”

He scowled at her and walked away.

Not long after, Jonah approached. If he’d had hair, it would have been bristling. “I heard you were on my boys again, telling them how they’re supposed to do their job.”

She did her best imitation of a reasonable professional. “The club’s packed tonight, and you know Coop got hurt a couple of days ago.” Coop had explained his injuries away as a sparring accident. “I’m sure he’d appreciate you keeping the crowd from bear-hugging him.”