“You’ve never been concerned about Katia when she dressed in three small triangles of material every day for two weeks,” she challenged.
His voice rose. “That’s because I don’t care what Katia wears.” He threw up his hands and then winced and looked away, running a hand over his hair again.
She grinned in spite of herself, finding it interesting that he cared more about her attire on the first day they’d met than his wife of two months. Come to think of it, Jodi didn’t believe she’d ever seen Tuck act like he even saw the women on that show. He certainly didn’t judge their clothing, at least not in front of the cameras.
Before Jodi could come up with the perfect retort to taunt Tuck with his implication that he cared about her, he turned and walked away, murmuring. “Damn pigheaded woman. Thinks she’s Rambo or something.”
Jodi smiled at his back as she admired his fine ass. Tight. Muscular. Firm. Jesus.
No matter what her father and Tuck said, she was going to dress in revealing clothing until they caught the dealer. Yes, it drew unsolicited attention that made Jodi recognize how shallow many men could be, but she also suspected it would be effective and pay off one of these days. Besides, based on people’s reaction to her new bar attire, she thought her revealing shirts might actually bring in more customers. If business didn’t pick up soon, it wouldn’t matter if they caught the drug dealer.
When her father returned and headed toward the front door to unlock it, Tuck followed him and then leaned his ass against the stool her father had placed there for that very purpose. Tuck glanced at Jodi with narrowed eyes.
Jodi tried not to read anything into it. It wasn’t as though Tuck was hitting on her. Of course not. Nor could he possibly care about her any more than as Bill Bridgman’s daughter.
Still, she had doubts about the story she kept telling herself. Tuck was definitely keeping an eye on her.
Chapter 4
Tuck was exhausted and cranky as he dragged himself up the stairs to the second-floor apartment he currently shared with Katia. He hadn’t worked that hard in months, not even on the set of Cold Feet. Granted, his job had mostly involved checking IDs and keeping a keen eye out for anything unusual, but the constant stress of paying close attention to every patron wore on him.
And then there was Jodi. It shouldn’t have surprised him to find out she was the best bartender he’d ever seen. She didn’t do anything half-assed. She never missed a beat the entire evening, filling orders for both waitresses and everyone at the bar with an ease that came from years of experience.
He knew from their earlier discussion that she was not only proficient behind the bar, but she also managed all the accounting and inventory. Bill still technically owned the bar, but he was getting older and as he put it—slower. He helped out when the place got too busy, but the rest of the time, he mingled with the regulars. He seemed to be ignoring their financial problems.
As Tuck opened the door to the apartment, he found Katia sitting on the couch in the dark, long legs folded under her, laptop on her thighs, fingers rushing across the keyboard. She glanced up at him and frowned. “Where were you?”
He sighed. Everything they did was a game. Much of it was even suggested each day from the producers to increase ratings. He wasn’t in the mood for a fake fight right now, but he didn’t have a choice. “I told you I was starting my new job tonight.”
She cocked her head to one side, pausing from her frantic typing. “It’s two in the morning.”
“I’m a bouncer. The bar closes at one, Katia.” He shuffled across the living area to the attached kitchen and opened the fridge, returning with a bottle of water.
As he opened it, she spoke again. “Are you drunk?”
He groaned. “No, I’m not drunk. I didn’t drink anything at all. I was working.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Whatever.” And then she bent down to continue typing. “I need to finish this post, and then I’m going to bed.”
“At least I have a real job,” he murmured, remembering the suggested line from his script.
She jerked her gaze back up. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She set the computer aside, unfolded her legs, and jumped to her feet. She was wearing a soft pink tank top, cutoff shorts, and no bra.
Tuck cringed inwardly as he considered the razzing Jodi would give him tomorrow if she was watching. Indeed, Katia had on far less clothing, and she was dressed this way for anyone on the planet to watch. Her nipples were hard points poking out from her pert breasts. He’d suspected her boobs were fake from the moment he met her, though he would never know. He sure wasn’t getting close enough to touch them.
Continuing the script, he waved a hand through the air. “All you do all day is play around on social media. How is that a job?” He knew better. Katia worked long hours perfecting her posts before putting them up for the world to see, but that wasn’t in the script.
She gave him a sharp “ha” and then stepped closer, hands on her hips. “I bet I’m making more money as an influencer than you are as a bouncer.”
The unfortunate part was she was probably right, especially since the show first aired. Her fan base had undoubtedly multiplied exponentially with each episode. Her name recognition alone had companies all over lining up to pay her for a spot on her site.
“Is this a contest now? You want to see who’s making more money? Does it bother you for me to earn less?” he asked, egging her on. This was ridiculous. He wanted to take a shower and go to bed. Not argue with his fake wife.
She suddenly smiled and flung herself at him, plastering her small frame against his so suddenly that he had to take a step back to brace himself. She set her chin on his chest and tipped her head back. “Nope. I think it’s hot.” She leaned her upper body back a few inches and ran a finger down his neck and between his pecs. “Everything about you is hot.” She grabbed his biceps and squeezed them. “Maybe I should come to work with you one day so I can watch you bounce people.”
He smirked, unable to stop himself at the absurdity of her comment. “Bounce people?”
“Yep. Isn’t that what bouncers do?”
He forced a laugh as he set his hands on her hips and eased her off him. He never liked being this close to her, but something about the events of the day made him even more repulsed. He couldn’t stop thinking what if Jodi’s watching?
He had no idea why it bothered him. It shouldn’t. Jodi thought he was an imbecile. Hell, she was probably right. He certainly was tangled up in a ridiculous saga. Until today, he’d ignored the constant dull throb behind his eyes and plowed forward every day, reminding himself about the prize. The money. Money he desperately needed.
Katia righted herself, but continued to trail a finger down his chest toward his stomach. Her voice was sultry when she spoke. “I guess I could finish scheduling my posts tomorrow if you want to go to bed.”
He swallowed. Shit. Shit shit shit.
This was the same game they played every night, for the cameras. Tonight was different. Tonight all he could picture was Jodi. She was probably sitting on her bed with her laptop open, watching him imply he was about to fuck his wife.