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He looks at me as if I belong in his bed, she thought. And she wanted to be there. For one more week.

A short while later they rounded the bend in a two-­lane country road and The Lost Kitten appeared. The two-­story structure looked like every other restaurant in the middle of nowhere Oregon apart from the neon pink sign on the edge of the parking lot. Below the club’s name, the sign read: LOCAL, ORGANIC FARE. SERVING BREAKFAST, LUNCH AND DINNER.

“An organic menu at a strip club?” Kat glanced at the nondescript double doors.

“I’ve never been in. I’m not a fan of crowded indoor spaces,” Lena said, pulling up to the front door. “But I’ve heard the food is good.”

“If it takes a while to find Josh, maybe I’ll see if Brody wants to join me for lunch.”

Lena laughed as Kat climbed down from the truck. “Good luck.”

Inside, Kat scanned the space. She’d expected a dive, not a classy club serving local eggs and grass-­fed bacon. A stage featuring three chrome poles and a long runway commanded the space. Tables with shiny black tops lined the dance floor. Three men sat at one, facing the stage, while a dancer wearing platform heels and a thong lay on top of their table. The woman helped herself to a home fry before turning her attention to the stage. The music shifted to a familiar upbeat song with a bump and grind rhythm. A pair of dancers appeared and began working the poles.

Kat glanced back at the men. Who went to a strip club for breakfast? And where was Brody if he wasn’t staring at the stage beside Josh?

A topless waitress brushed past, her breasts bouncing as she slid steaming plates of potatoes and eggs in front of a gentleman. The food smelled so good. Her stomach rumbled as she searched the dimly lit space for Brody and found him by the bar.

Heading over, she noted the way he kept his gaze fixed on the hardwood floor. The tall, broad-­shouldered man who liked to lick her until she screamed refused to glance at the strippers.

“If you wanted a lap dance, you could have asked,” she said, moving to his side.

Brody looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Before she could explain, a twenty-­something woman with long black hair approached. She wore a fitted black tank top with pink letters that read Naughty Kitty across her chest, jeans, and black cowboy boots. This was Kat’s first visit to a strip club, but nothing about the woman screamed, Put singles in my underwear.

“I’m Daphne, the owner,” the woman said, offering her hand. “One of the servers mentioned you were looking for someone?”

“Brody Summers.” He took her hand. “I’m here for my brother.”

Daphne placed her hands on her hips. “Is he underage?”

“He was in an accident,” Kat jumped in, explaining her role as Josh’s doctor and her concerns about his possible foray into sexual promiscuity.

The owner, who stood an inch or two shorter than Kat and barely reached Brody’s shoulder, laughed. “Josh is in the back.”

“In the back?” Brody said. She could feel the tension radiating off him. And right now she couldn’t blame him. A back room at a strip club suggested a very intimate dance.

“He’s having breakfast with Megan, one of the waitresses. Sweet guy. Drove out here just to keep her company before her shift. I’ll let him know you’re here.” The owner turned and headed for the double doors leading to the kitchen.

“Since you hired a topless waitress to care for your little brother, you shouldn’t be too surprised he’s sleeping with her,” Kat said, taking Brody’s hand.

“I didn’t know,” he ground out. “She’s a nursing student. I checked. She’s enrolled part-­time. And she came highly recommended.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “At least he didn’t come for the show.”

“If I’d realized sexual promiscuity was a common side effect of head injuries, I would have hired a different nurse. Maybe tried to find a guy.”

“It’s not your fault, Brody.” She glanced at the man who tried to shoulder the weight of everyone’s needs. And she realized it was time someone rescued him right back.

She moved in front of him. “You know, now that we’re here, I have to admit, I like the idea of giving you a lap dance.”

“No.” One arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. In the dimly lit, empty corner of the club, she arched, pressing into him. She felt his hand brushing her hair to one side. His lips touched her neck.

“Might be wild,” she said before he gave her a list of reasons why he shouldn’t accept a dance from her. “And a little naughty.”

She felt him suck in a deep breath, his free hand resting on her shoulder. “Dammit, I missed you. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Brody, what the fuck?” Josh stormed through the double doors leading to the kitchen, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. “I left a note. You don’t need to follow me around like I’m a freaking child. I know my way home.”

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