Kiera had spotted Denny too, and she motioned for him to sit in her section. I watched his progress, wondering how long I should wait to talk to him. Maybe he should have a drink first. Maybe I should have another drink first. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kiera approaching the bar. I pulled my eyes from Denny to look over at her. Adorable smile on her face, she leaned over the bar to me. Grinning crookedly, I leaned toward her. Her eyes began scanning my body, and I smiled, waiting for her to reach my face again. I’d really missed her drinking me in.

When our eyes met, I nodded over her shoulder at Denny. “I should go say hi. The last time we saw each other I wasn’t exactly…nice.”

Kiera’s face matched mine for a moment as we both remembered me yelling at him. At least I hadn’t punched him. Kiera looked back at Denny. “Yeah, I should talk to him too. I haven’t had a chance to meet Abby yet.”

Like he knew we were talking about him, Denny glanced up at us and frowned. He partially stood, like he wanted to talk to us too. I was just about to head over there when someone pinched my ass. Startled, I stepped away from my attacker—Rita. She instantly moved forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I knew I’d get you back behind this bar again, sweetheart,” she cooed.

Annoyance ran up my spine. I should have been watching her more carefully while I worked. Rita was never one to be subtle about her interest in me. I shouldn’t have ever had sex with her. Willing or not, she was married, and I should have respected that. Hell, I should have respected myself.

I tried to disengage from her, but every time I moved one hand away, she’d just move it back when I grabbed her other one. Kiera was giggling as she watched my futile attempt at freedom. It filled me with relief that she wasn’t upset, but I frowned at her on principle. It’s not funny. Rita laid her head on my chest, perfectly at home curled up to my body, and I let out a long sigh. Damn it. Now what do I do?

Kiera gave me a look that spoke volumes—You only have yourself to blame. I know, Kiera…I know. I smiled at the look on Kiera’s face, grateful that she wasn’t jealous. Or needlessly worried. Maybe she was genuinely starting to trust me too. And she should. Especially with Rita. But with everyone else too. Kiera was it for me. My body, my soul, were hers. And Rita needed to finally understand that.