Suddenly, he realized she was no longer speaking, and he jerked his gaze up to meet hers, finding her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. “She’s cheating on you, you know.”
He flinched. “Who’s cheating on me?”
“Katia. Duh. Your wife?”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” That was more information than he should have divulged.
Jodi leaned closer, getting in his face. “You don’t care?”
He shook his head. “Not really. No.” Actually, it would be easier if she were cheating on him. If either of them was caught cheating during the ninety days, the other would walk away with a hundred thousand dollars, not sharing it with the adulterer. If Katia got caught, this entire farce would end all the sooner, and he could go on with his life, a hundred and thirty grand richer than three months ago.
“She’s pretty,” Jodi pointed out, obviously far more interested in Tuck’s relationship with the woman than he was.
He shrugged. “I suppose. If you like the cover-model type.”
“Who doesn’t?”
He lifted his brows. “That’s so shallow. I prefer a woman with goals and brains that extend beyond drinking with friends, taking whatever pills they can get their hands on to lose weight, and interests that extend past social media.”
Katia spent nearly every waking hour on Instagram or whatever other platforms she used. She proudly called herself an influencer, which he didn’t even try to understand. To her, tweeting and posting all day was a job. And, he had to be honest, she made a living doing it. Who was he to judge?
“She’s taking these damn pills too?” Jodi frowned.
“Eh, I’m not sure she specifically does, but most of the cast on the show for sure took pills. Probably the same ones you’re having issues with here. Whatever the latest fad is among young girls who think they can swallow something and lose weight.”
After spending two weeks on set with these women, he understood the tradeoff better. They were raging bitches. Whatever the benefits of the pills were, he couldn’t imagine anyone trading their personality for a sexy body. They were like zombies half the time, enraged zombies who went after each other like feral cats.
Jodi scrunched up her face. “I can’t imagine being that shallow.”
He couldn’t see it in Jodi either. For one thing, she had on more clothes than he’d seen on any of those women combined in the two weeks he was on set with them. All they cared about was ensuring they exposed as much skin as possible and got as much camera time as they could manage. Each and every bridesmaid and groomsman had one goal and one goal only—getting noticed by somebody in the business. Cold Feet wasn’t anyone’s big break, but it could be a stepping-stone into the industry.
Jodi grew serious. “Do you really think you can figure out who’s dealing inside the bar?”
Tuck nodded. “Yep. I’ll find them. I can’t promise someone else won’t come in right behind them and take their place, but whoever the current dealer is, he or she won’t last long under my watch.” He knew he was cocky, but shit, after as many years as he’d worked behind enemy lines for the SEALs, finding a drug dealer in a bar couldn’t be that difficult.
Jodi rubbed her arms as if she had a chill. She was rightfully unnerved by what was happening in her bar. Unlike the flaky, beauty-obsessed woman Tuck was currently “married” to, Jodi had a business degree, common sense, and life plans that included keeping this bar afloat long after her father was gone.
Bridgman’s Bar meant something to her. Her father had opened it before she was even born. Tuck could tell the thought of losing it was the source of constant stress. She was pissed that anyone would dare tarnish her reputation by using the place as a meeting point for transactions.
It was official. If Tuck were single, not working for Jodi, and didn’t have a pile of financial problems, he would ask Jodi out in a heartbeat. Alas, none of those things were true, so he needed to keep things professional.
Life sucked sometimes.
Of course, it’s not as if he would ever have a shot with her anyway. She saw him as shallow and money hungry, and rightfully so. How many other women in life would recognize Tuck from the show and judge him without knowing him? Probably a lot.
Great. Fun life ahead of him.
Chapter 3
“You changed clothes.”
Jodi lifted her gaze from behind the bar to find Tuck staring at her. She glanced down at the white tank top she’d put on a few minutes ago. “Yeesss. We’re about to open.”
He lifted a brow. “That’s what you wear to work?” He didn’t look pleased. In fact, he was gritting his teeth.
Now she was pissed. “What the hell is wrong with my shirt?” She knew perfectly well what was wrong with it, and frankly she agreed. It was too tight. Too revealing. Downright uncomfortable. And necessary.
“See? Told you you looked like a floozy in that shirt.” This came from her father as he stepped from the back room. “Let Tuck catch the bad guys. Stop trying to lure them in yourself.”
Tuck flattened his hands on the bar and leaned forward. “Wait. Please tell me you aren’t wearing revealing, sexy clothes to get the attention of a drug dealer.”
She winced and then shrugged, not meeting his gaze. Why did he care? He was married to someone who wore less than she had on every time she went to the grocery store. Hell, Katia dressed like that for everyone in the world to see on camera. He shouldn’t judge.
Tuck leaned in even farther.
Her dad smirked. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her. I didn’t even know she owned these body-hugging wifebeaters. It’s like my own daughter has lost her mind lately. She wears a T-shirt with the bar logo on it for her entire life, and now this.” He groaned and then stepped back into the storeroom behind the bar.
“Jodi…” Tuck drawled. “It’s a bad idea to mess with drug dealers. Let me find the perp. You don’t need to get involved.”
Determined to hold her ground, she glared at him. “You haven’t even started yet. I have no proof you can spot the asshole any easier than I can. At least this way, I stand a chance of being offered whatever he’s selling.”
Tuck’s face grew red, which was saying something considering how tan he was. He ran a hand over the top of his thick brown hair in exasperation, blinking those penetrating green eyes at her when she glanced. The muscles on his forearms were bulging, more so than usual. Tattoos extending out from under his sleeves. He was also shaking his head.
“Don’t be sexist. There’s nothing wrong with my outfit. Everything is covered. It’s all legal.” She was exaggerating a bit. After all, she had on a hot pink bra and the tight tank top her father insisted was a wifebeater barely covered the bra. It was also see-through.
Still, if she were currently at the beach like the women he’d been living with on the set of Cold Feet, she would have on far less than this. Her bikini covered less skin than this bra.
She’d never once seen him judge the women around him on set the way he was eyeing Jodi right now, so it was difficult to know what to make of his reaction.
“I’m not sexist, Jodi,” he gritted out. “I’m concerned about you is all.”