“Yes, sir. But you are my concern.”

“I’ll be fine. As a matter of fact, I’d welcome a sit-down with Maxwell the Fifth. I have a few things to explain to him.”

“I can appreciate that, sir—”

“Seriously, Murphy. My name is Asher. Call me Asher.”

Murphy laughed. “Not as easy as it sounds.”

Asher could almost hear the sir and shook his head. “Find Maxwell. We’ll stay in contact. After all this is over, we’ll go grab a couple beers and shoot some hoops. See if you’re sirring me then.” He hung up the phone before Murphy could offer another yes, sir.

The taxi pulled over, and he shoved the cash through the slot in the safety glass. Less than five minutes, not bad. The bar was on the corner, and he walked in.

Jenny stood out in the crowd. Her back was turned with her dark hair piled up, but he could pick that woman out anywhere. Her laughter carried from the bar across the loud room, and she tossed her head back. Unaware of him, and Asher was content to watch.

Graceful neck. Sexy, strong shoulders. She reached back to toy with loose strands, and the move punched him in the stomach. Those arms needed to wrap around him, and his fingers would be in her hair, again and soon.

He walked toward her, ignoring the occasional nod of recognition from folks downing their after-work cocktails. Ricky sat at a nearby table, watching Jenny, studying everyone in the room, and making small talk.

Two men flanked Jenny. Both could back off, but Asher wouldn’t concern himself with them. For all he cared, there was only one other person in the room. That gorgeous girl who’d teased him over the years and had become a focal point the second he’d grasped what she meant to him. Maybe he had one thing to thank Maxwell for, and it was that realization.

One last step, then Asher pressed against her back, her ass, and nuzzled his cheek behind her ear.

“Guess you couldn’t go walking around in your costume, huh?” He let his lips tickle the edge of her ear and inhaled her light perfume. She smelled delicious. “What are the chances you brought that thing home?”

Jenny stayed caged to the bar and tilted her head. “One of the perks of my new gig is a furnished, temporary apartment. Rumor has it the closest isn’t empty.”

He closed his arms tighter, and warmth penetrated his suit jacket and shirt sleeves. “Yesterday, I had you pinned against a wall. Tonight, against a bar. Hoping you like that as much as I do.”

Her breaths stilted and hitched. He was close enough to feel the irregular cadence. Close enough that he could savor it, enjoying the prickles that swept across the nape of his neck and shot down his spine.