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pounding in her chest as she drove away. She didn’t go home immediately, but headed directly to the police station. When she left it twenty minutes later, she was bitterly disappointed and more than a little shocked at how ineffective the laws were. He hadn’t threatened her, and the small bruises on her arm would only garner the smallest, most trivial assault charges for which he would probably get a fine and nothing else. Disgusted, Evie drove to her new apartment and once safely inside, locked all the doors behind her.
    It was just after six when Jackson called. A hot shower and a glass of wine had gone a long way towards easing Evie’s nerves. She should have been unpacking and arranging the furniture that the movers had dropped off, but she simply didn’t have the heart for it. Seeing Jackson’s name on her phone brought a smile to her lips.
    “What are you wearing?” His gruff question had her smile stretching into a grin.
    On a light chuckle, Evie asked, “Seriously? That’s the line you’re going to use?”
    “Not a line. Just answer the question,” he said.
    “Right now, I’m wearing a towel.” She thought she heard an answering groan, but he quickly reverted to character.
    “Get the denim skirt you wore to the picnic. Put it on with a pair of high heels. The sexiest bra you own and a white tank top. No panties.”
    Evie shivered as he delivered his instructions coolly. “And where will I be going?”
    “You’re going to walk into Tiny’s Bar and you’re going to pick me up... In front of everyone. You are going to throw yourself at me, and when we walk out of that bar tonight, everyone will know what we’re going to be doing.”
    It was her most secret fantasy. She’d never told anyone that, not even Cass. Evie had dreamed of walking into the local bar and playing the sex bomb. Could she go through with it? Did she have a choice?
    “Seven,” he said, “Not a minute later.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
    Slightly less than an hour later, Evie was sitting in the parking lot of Tiny’s Bar wondering why the hell she hadn’t protested Jackson’s autocratic demands. She knew the answer, of course. She wanted him bad enough to put up with just about anything, including his arrogance and his crappy taste in night life. Of course, the options were limited. Even though it was a dive by most people’s standards, other than Jackson’s marina which was only open on the weekends, it was the only nightspot in town. Giving her appearance one final check in the rearview mirror, Evie climbed out of her car, feeling very self conscious given the length of her skirt and the lack of panties.
    She’d never been to Tiny’s before, she realized. The doorman did a double take when he saw her, but waved her in anyway. It wasn’t like he really needed to see her ID in a town where everyone knew everyone else’s name, age, date of birth and shoe size. Stepping into the dim interior, Evie surveyed her surroundings nervously. Neon beer lights seemed to cover every available wall space that wasn’t covered by fake boobs and autographed dollar bills. Several men were playing darts and a few couples were on the small dance floor. Scanning the patrons that were seated at the bar, she noted that Jackson was not amongst them. She headed in that direction regardless, as she needed the fortification of a little Irish courage.
    “A shot of Jack Daniel’s, please,” she said to the bartender.
    Other than a raised eyebrow, he didn’t outwardly respond. “You wanna pay now or start a tab?”
    Evie withdrew a bill from her purse and placed it on the bar. “Another shot,” she said, as she picked up the first glass. She took a deep breath and then downed the liquid. Somehow, she didn’t cough, though it burned like the devil going down. The second one went down easier, and a languid warmth spread through her, settling the jangled nerves. She didn’t think it was her imagination that everyone