The Jack had been extra snarly last night, especially when a group of corporate drones—probably there on a dare—had tried to get handsy with one of the waitresses. Rhonda had managed to extricate herself from their grasping hands and hightailed it to the bar. Taryn had swooped in like an avenging angel and escorted them out of the building. With force.
She’d enjoyed it, but it hadn’t worked to get her mind off Ash. Or Hope.
It would be beyond foolish to go up against one of the corporations, especially Tremaine, Seattle’s homegrown multinational. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Hope. About how—hypothetically—Taryn would get her out of a corporate hospital. It was madness.
And, well, she was feeling a bit mad. The coffee mug rattled as she set it on the table with more force than intended.
Madness was the only excuse for wanting to see Ash stroll through those doors. Because if he did—no matter how much she wanted to see him—she’d have to kick him out again. The Jack’s reputation was only as good as the willingness to back it up. Last night, in the midst of her righteous anger, she’d informed her staff about his banishment.
She could lift it without reason, but if she did it now, she would look weak.
When her gaze skipped over the room and landed on the door again, Taryn knew she’d made a mistake. She could have—should have—found something else to do tonight. Get out and take the pulse of the city. Start scoping out her next project.
But no, she’d decided to watch over the business instead.
Idiot.
No matter how often she told herself it was because she was a hands-on boss, she knew it was a lie.
“I need to get a life.”
That’s what Dani told her—repeatedly. And every time she did, Taryn countered that she didn’t have time, that the bar needed her.
Truth was, Dani was right. Taryn wanted a life, wanted a relationship. Companionship and sex with someone who knew her.
Her. Taryn. Not just the Jack.
But she’d never been on a date in her life. Her dating options sucked. Either men were too intimidated by her title and power or they wanted to say they’d fucked the Jack.
“Assholes,” she muttered.
Taryn sipped water because additional caffeine would rile her up more.
She’d clawed her way out of circumstances that had left her scarred but not broken and had taken control of her life. Even worked her way back to having and enjoying sex. But those nights out of town where nobody knew her hadn’t been dates, they’d been therapy.
What would it be like to be with someone who cared?
And just like that, her thoughts circled back to Ash.
Dammit.
Two nights in a row she’d thought about him. Fantasized about him. Felt tingles in places she’d thought were dormant; it had been so long since she’d had sex.
Ash was a problem. Or a missed opportunity.
Who was she kidding? She’d banned him from the bar and most people were too scared of the Jack to challenge her.
The door opened and she looked at it again. Instead of the tall lanky man who occupied her thoughts, it was the last person she expected.
Ice slithered down her spine. Taryn scrambled out of her booth, but stayed in the shadows.
What the fuck was he doing here?
Giselle’s pimp strolled into the bar, with a swagger of someone who thought he owned the place.
“Oh hell no.” Scum like that had no place here.
She started forward, ready to throw his ass out, then stopped and studied the situation.
