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the intimidating Vishnu made the announcement go over a bit more easily.
    “If you have a picture of a dog with you, come on in and you can have a drink. If you have an actual dog with you, you’re going to have to take it home. Or tie it up outside.”
    He held up his hand to stop the roar of protest.
    “To make up for this embarrassing misunderstanding, for which Katie here sincerely apologizes, she’s offering a rain check to every one of you.”
    The crowd’s angry edge melted into a few scattered cheers.
    She glared up at him and hissed. “It was right there in the ad, bring a picture.”
    Ryan ignored her. “She says she’s really sorry and hopes to see you back here sometime this week. After that, no one will remember there ever was a Doggies’ Night.”
    Katie visibly ground her teeth. “Fine.”
    Ryan pulled out his phone. “To sweeten the deal, if you guys want, I’ll take a picture of your dog for you. But you still have to leave your dogs outside.”
    The large black man started to argue. Katie pushed forward and went onto tiptoe. Even though she still had to tilt her head way back to meet his gaze, her fierceness had quite an impact. “Look, mister, I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but the health department would shut us down. As you should have known if you gave it two seconds’ thought . . .”
    Ryan cut her off. “Take your dog home, man, come back, and I’ll buy you a drink myself. Make that two. That’s two for the price of zero. Can’t argue with that.”
    Slowly the crowd dispersed. Katie pulled the door shut and leaned against it. She let out a deep breath. “Mr. Jamieson, you all right?”
    On the bouncer’s stool, a gaunt man with wire-rimmed glasses, who Ryan hadn’t noticed until now, put his hand over his heart. “Oh, I imagine I’ll recover. A glass of Merlot might aid the process.” He added something in what sounded like French.
    Katie rattled off something that sounded equally French but much sexier. She finished with, “Help yourself. Go tell Archie.”
    Mr. Jamieson limped gratefully toward the bar. She turned to Ryan. “Um . . . thanks. I had things under control, but still, thanks.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “I guess you don’t need me, then.” He turned to go. “And here I was going to offer to tend bar for the night. Or play bouncer. But nah, I see you have it covered.” He opened the door and stepped onto the now quiet sidewalk. Would she let him go? Did she want him to go away? Maybe she was still mad about him spilling blood in her bar. Maybe she figured he was trouble. Maybe she didn’t like him. Maybe she was immune to the smile that made every other girl melt.
    Ryan wasn’t used to this kind of self-doubt, at least when it came to women.
    “I suppose I could use a hand,” she said grudgingly.
    He turned, blasting her with a smile, pleased when she blinked.
    “But no punching anyone. No more rain checks. And none of that.”
    “What?”
    “That smiling. I don’t like it.”
    As if to prove it, she frowned. Ryan’s smile broadened. The world righted itself. Definitely, no doubt about it, he was getting to her.

Chapter Four
    K atie knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. A whole night working side by side with a man with such devastating good looks, the kind of looks that belonged on a movie screen where they could remain a fantasy, would lead to nothing but trouble. She knew guys like that—they were Bridget’s type, not hers. They were players, flirters, daters. She didn’t speak their language. As soon as Bridget showed up, he’d flock to her like a homing pigeon.
    “I want to get one thing straight,” she told Ryan as she led the way through the throng to the bar. “This is one night only. And it’s because I’m desperate. It doesn’t mean I’m going to start drooling at your feet.”
    His startled look made her wince. Her bluntness had always been her downfall.
    “What I mean is, obviously you’re very