About That Night

Ryla

“The Twitter Terrorist comes through for us. Who would’ve thought?” Cameron asked. “I heard from Cade that Qui

Ryla

“You should’ve seen how sanctimonious Qui

“I suspect Qui

“Very true.”

A few minutes later, after Cameron had left, Ryla

“Are you free tonight?” she asked Rae. “Drinks are on me—I feel like celebrating.”

Rae sounded excited. “Ooh, let’s make a night of it. What are we celebrating?”

“The end of a very long workweek.”

Rae laughed. “I hear that. Since you mentioned it, I was just reading in the Trib about this new bar, Firelight, that’s opening tonight. Supposedly, it’s the place to be this weekend. Want to check it out?”

Ryla

“If we look good enough, we will.”

Ryla

Nineteen

KYLE STOOD AT the black onyx bar in the corner of the room, surrounded by a group of his friends. Firelight was packed to the gills, with everyone dressed in their Friday finest. By all accounts, the nightclub’s opening appeared to be a huge success, and for Dex’s sake, Kyle was thrilled.

Too bad he, personally, wasn’t quite feeling it.

Maybe there was something to this whole inmate adjustment process Jordan had been babbling about. Because all around him, people were laughing, drinking, partying, and generally having the time of their lives. Even better, there were beautiful women everywhere, many of whom had been trying to catch his eye all night. Yet something was off.

Kyle excused himself from the other guys, saying he wanted to walk around and check out the crowd. He found Dex just outside the door, standing at the balcony railing and proudly looking down at the packed crowd in the main bar below.

Kyle joined his friend at the railing—no matter what his issues were, he sure as hell wouldn’t let them spoil this moment for Dex. “How’s it feel?”

“I won’t lie. It feels good—real good,” Dex said. “Ten years ago, I was bartending in a college bar in the middle of central Illinois. Now I have this.”

“You earned it.” Better than anyone, Kyle knew how hard Dex had worked to open the nightclub.

“Yes, I did,” Dex said, his eyes traveling over the crowd. Then he paused at something he saw and looked over at Kyle with a sly grin. “Hmm. I think I might’ve found the cure for that emo mood you’ve been in these past few weeks.”

“Emo?” Kyle laughed at the thought. “Screw you. I’m fine.”

“If you say so. Still, you might want to check out the main bar. Red dress, two o’clock.”

Kyle’s eyes sca

Apparently, Prosecutrix Pierce had something other than skirt suits in her closet, after all.

Her hair fell over her shoulders in gorgeous raven waves, hitting right at the enticing V neckline of the sleeveless red dress she wore. Since she was partially blocked by the bar, Kyle couldn’t see anything below her waist, but his imagination was ru

“Oh, look who suddenly perked up now that a certain assistant U.S. attorney has made her appearance,” Dex said with a chuckle.

Kyle feigned nonchalance. “So she’s got a hot dress. Big deal.”

“Right. FYI, I’d lose the shit-eating grin before you go talk to her. And try not to stare at her rack this time.”

“Who said I was going to talk to her?” Kyle grumbled. With their lawyer-witness “situation,” it was probably better if he and Ryla

“If you don’t talk to her, somebody else sure will.” Dex pointed. “In fact, I think you’ve got competition already. “Five o’clock.”

Kyle whipped around, peering down at the scene below, and saw a guy with a white button-down shirt on the opposite end of the bar sipping his drink and staring at Ryla

Try having a prison record, dickhead.

As Kyle stood there watching Ryla

Because for the first time in a long time, he wanted something he couldn’t have.

But there was one other thing he knew. No man—dickhead or otherwise—was making moves on Ryla

And he knew just the man who could help him with that.

“Dex, old buddy, I need to ask you for a favor.”

ONCE AGAIN, RYLANN tried to catch the eye of the female bartender working Firelight’s main bar.

“One of the few times I’ve ever wished for a penis,” she said to Rae when the bartender stepped up to take the order of yet another male customer. They’d been waiting to be served for over twenty minutes. She’d even worn the red magic boob dress tonight, but unfortunately its mojo offered no help in this particular situation.

“You haven’t had sex in six months,” Rae said. “If I were you, I’d be wishing for penises every night.”

Ryla

Rae rolled her eyes. “I think I’m giving up on Match,” she said, referring to a string of bad dates she’d arranged via Match.com. “These guys sound so promising online, but then you meet them and they’re entirely different people. This last guy started off the evening by being fifteen minutes late. Then he finally shows up at the restaurant carrying a bicycle helmet, and when he sits down at the table, I notice that he’s sweating profusely and he smells.”

Ryla

“I stayed for one drink, paid the bill, and politely said that I didn’t think we had a co

“Look at you,” Ryla

“Great,” Rae said dryly. “That’s exactly what I want to be a pro at: bad first dates. I read somewhere that you can tell within five minutes whether you’re going to click with a person. Personally, I think I know even faster than that.” She nudged Ryla

Ryla