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Shaking my head, I tuck the phone back into my pocket.

I can’t leave. Not when I’m seen for the first time by the most beautiful soul to walk the face of this godforsaken planet.

Chapter 9

Annie

I’ve been so worried about Owen, I didn’t shut an eye last night.

I was torn by the intense moment we shared in the alley and feeling worried about how it may have affected him.

I swear it felt like I was going to spontaneously combust from all the sexual tension between us. His muscled thigh pressed against my clit. The way his breathing turned harsh, and he looked at me as if he would like nothing more than to rip my clothes off. His hand gripping my throat.

God, it was the most erotic moment of my life.

He got hard and was a second away from kissing me when that stupid cop interrupted us, but it’s safe to say the attraction is definitely mutual.

I just wish I knew why Owen is holding back.

When I walk into the bar, I rush to the counter. Seeing him in the kitchen, a breath of relief bursts over my lips.

Thank God.

I watch as he gets everything ready for tonight, then he glances in my direction, and our eyes connect.

A smile curves my lips, and my hand darts up, waving at him before I rip my gaze away and move in behind the counter.

Harlan comes from the direction of the restroom and grins when he sees me. “How’s my favorite girl?”

I let out a chuckle. “Don’t lie.” Giving him a teasing look, I say, “Vanessa is your favorite girl.”

He rests his forearms on the counter and shakes his head. “She isn’t as nice to me as you are. I think I should flirt with you. We’d make a great couple.”

As I let out a bark of laughter, Owen comes into the bar area with a crate of clean glasses. He places it on the counter right between Harlan and me.

Standing beside me, he gives Harlan a chin lift, and instead of returning to the kitchen, he begins pulling glass after glass out, putting them in the space beneath the counter.

“I can do that,” Harlan says.

“I’ve got it.” Owen’s tone sounds tense, and I indicate for Harlan to skedaddle.

“Ahh . . .” Harlan walks to the middle of the room and glances around, then heads to the restrooms again. “Think I forgot something in the can.”

I get to work, and every few seconds, either our arms brush or our hands touch when we reach for the same glass.

Tension builds in the air, and I swipe my tongue over my dry lips, nervously stealing a glance at Owen.

His features look like they’ve been cut from stone.

My tone is soft and cautious as I ask, “Are you okay?”

He nods and works faster. Not wanting to get in his way, I move to the side while nudging my glasses up my nose.

I watch as he works, and when he slides the last tumbler into place, he finally comes to a stop and turns to look at me.

A few seconds pass, then he says, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay.” I give him a reassuring smile.