Dirty Sexy Sinner by Carly Phillips & Erika Wilde

for you, donuts are my weakness and one of the few things I can’t resist,” she said, rearranging a few of the bottles of alcohol that were lined up in a bin. “And oh, my God, Angelo makes the best apple fritters in the entire city, and just thinking about them is making my mouth water.”
    Her enthusiasm made him grin. “Is that a yes?”
    “That is a hell yeah,” she said, and laughed.
    Now that he’d secured more time with Tara, he let her continue with her clean-up of the bar, doing his best not to distract her so she’d finish as soon as possible. At eleven straight up, she locked the main doors and cashed out the register and took the money back to the office. While she was gone, a young kid came out from the back area and began putting chairs up on the tables.
    As he swept the floor, he kept one eye on Jackson, and it was clear that the kid had heard about him and couldn’t decide if he was a threat of some sort or not. It all depended on what information had filtered through the gossip mill about his meeting with the Kincaid brothers. If Mason was to be believed, then Jackson was sure he was branded as public enemy number one.
    “That’s Elijah,” Tara said when she came back from whatever she was doing in the office and saw him glancing at the boy. “He’s a great kid. Clay found him rummaging through the dumpster for something to eat and gave him a job.”
    Before Jackson could reply, a man’s voice spoke.
    “Tara, are you about finished up?” the guy asked as he limped into the bar area. “The kitchen is clean and—”
    His words abruptly stopped as the man’s one good eye that wasn’t covered with a patch stared at Jackson in that way he was becoming all too familiar with. Perceptive and a whole lot standoffish. Now that the employees at Kincaid’s knew about him, they weren’t so quick to assume he was Clay.
    “You must be the twin,” the other man said gruffly.
    “That would be me,” he replied in a pleasant tone as he extended his hand toward the man in a friendly gesture since he was standing close enough. “I’m Jackson.”
    The guy hesitated, then finally stepped forward and clasped Jackson’s hand in his strong, unrelenting grip, silently sending a message Jackson would have had to be an idiot to miss. This man was clearly Team Kincaid, and if handshakes could talk, this one would say you do anything even remotely sketchy and I will gladly kick your ass .
    “Hank,” he said brusquely, introducing himself before he glanced at Tara behind the bar. “You almost done out here?”
    “Yes.” She stacked a few racks of clean glasses on top of each other. “If you and Elijah are finished, you can go ahead and leave. I’ll have Jackson walk me out to my car.”
    A muscle in Hank’s jaw ticked. “I don’t think Clay would be too happy if he found out—”
    Tara held up a hand. “Let me deal with Clay, okay? The boys might have a personal issue with Jackson, but I don’t. Since they aren’t here and I’m in charge, I’m assuring you that I’ll be absolutely fine in this man’s company, so I’ll see you and Elijah tomorrow afternoon for your shifts.”
    Boom. Mic drop.
    Jackson tamped down the grin threatening to appear. Beautiful and defiant—a woman who knew her own mind and was strong enough to assert herself when warranted. Another huge fucking turn-on, especially when he thought about controlling that rebellious streak of hers in the bedroom. Calling the shots. Pinning her down while she bucked beneath the onslaught of his mouth and fingers. Taking her hard and deep and demanding her surrender.
    He exhaled a slow breath, which helped, somewhat, to banish those images from his mind. Hank scowled at him one more time— and thank fucking God he wasn’t a mind reader —but didn’t argue further with Tara. Within the next five minutes, Elijah and Hank were both gone, leaving him alone with Tara.
    “You all are a loyal bunch, aren’t you?” he asked