She hesitated, as if unsure whether she should dive in. “Never mind.”

“Tell me.”

She tilted her chin up in pure challenge. “I hear a lot about how you like to embrace the future, and the power of women being themselves, and how you’re open to all of it. But you know what? Not once have you told me what you’re really looking for. What type of woman would you like in your life? What sacrifices are you willing to make for her? How open are you to risks? Because I think, deep inside, you may be a bit of a coward, and just like to wrap words around grand gestures and ideas that keep you safe and alone in your bed at night. But that’s just my opinion.”

Struck mute, he stared at her, unable to form any words. He figured by being up front about his limitations, he was being fair. Hell, at times he called himself enlightened—a man who cited truth as his excuse not to get entangled. He thought he was one of the decent ones out there.

But Raven called him out as a coward.

He opened his mouth to deny, and reject, and challenge every word she uttered. Her phone buzzed and she jumped up with a smile.

“This is NSync, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, confused. “Yeah.”

“Funny, I haven’t been able to get a particular song out of my head. Keeps playing over and over.”

“Raven, I think—”

“It’s called ‘Bye Bye Bye.’ So bye-bye, Dalton. See you tomorrow. Enjoy your new babysitter.”

With glee, she threw the door open. Al stood there with a grumpy expression on his face. “How long do I have to be here?” he grunted.

“Until Dalton is done. Thanks, Al, I appreciate it.”

He waved her off and trudged inside, shooting Dalton a nice glare. “Yeah, yeah, go to your workout. See ya later.”

She kissed his cheek and bounced out of the bar, leaving Dalton with the overly muscled tank of a chef, who looked mightily pissed off at him.

Ah, fuck.

The chef took in the stool at his feet and shook his head. Plucked a battered pack of American Spirits out of his pocket. Then glared at him again. “I’m gonna have a cigarette.”

Dalton sighed. “Fine.”

The chef paused. “I don’t like tattletales.”

Dalton raised his brow. “You mean, you don’t want Raven to know you smoke.”

“Right.”

“I got your back. But you know, smoking causes some nasty shit, Al. I’d advise you to think seriously about quitting.”

The chef shook his head in disgust and headed out the back door. “Just keep your mouth shut and we’ll get along fine.”

Dalton surrendered and got back to work. After a while, Al joined him inside the bar, and the sound of newspaper pages flipping echoed in the air along with the music, which he’d significantly lowered in volume. “The bar looks great,” Al said.

“Thanks.”

“I like the stools, too.”

“They’ll make a big difference. I’m gonna rip out these crappy booths and replace those, too. And wait till you see the game tables for poker night.”

“Yep. Raven’s happy.”

“She said that?”

A grunt.

“Did she talk about the bar? Or the stools? Or me?”

“Want me to pass her a note? She can check a box: ‘I like you’ or ‘I don’t like you.’ ”

A flush crept up his cheeks. “Forget it.”

A hearty laugh, then a cough. “Just fucking with ya, man. I know you have the hots for her. Funny thing is, she seems to like you, too, but you piss her off. Not sure what that’s about.”

“Me either. Maybe you can put in a good word?”

Al snorted. “Nope. Don’t know you well enough, buddy.”

“Understood.”

Al read the paper and Dalton worked in silence. After a few minutes he asked, “You work for Raven long?”

“Almost two years now. You know she hired me out of prison?”

Dalton looked up. His respect for Raven hitched up a notch. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, she gave me a chance right away. Especially when she heard I’d attended the CIA.”

“In for something bad?”

“Losing my temper and trying to protect someone I once loved.”

Dalton concentrated on the sanding. “Sounds square to me.”

“Yeah, it was square. Raven’s good people. She took a chance on me, and I’ll never forget it.”

“Only reason you’re still here is you’re good at your job and she respects you. Raven strikes me as rewarding people who are worthy.”

Al grunted. “Maybe.”

Dalton hid a smile. Yeah, Al was a softy underneath all that girth and muscle. “Doesn’t hurt to have some protection around here, too.”

Al squinted in confusion. “Protection?”

“Yeah. You’re the only male in the restaurant. Figured you watch out for the women if there’s trouble. Right?”

The man gave a deep laugh. Dalton frowned. “You have no idea, do you? I’m not needed. Trust me, I’ll kick anyone’s ass that calls for it, but Raven handles everything herself.”

A touch of annoyance hit him. The guy let Raven deal with trouble on her own? Dalton had been in his fair share of bar fights, and none of them were pretty. The idea of her getting hurt made him step forward, glaring at the cook. “I thought you were a decent guy. She’s here alone at night and early mornings. Probably deals with a number of assholes who figure she comes with their orders. And you don’t even help her out?”

Al’s laugh got louder. “I’ve seen that woman almost break a guy’s wrist who tried to grab her ass. She hauls out the drunkards with her own hands and keeps a clean house.”

“How? I mean, she told me she does some boxing and karate, and works out with a personal trainer, but she never claimed to be an expert.”

“She trains at the gym with some guy, Xavier, three times a week. That’s where she was going today. Raven is fierce. I’ve seen her take down men twice her size with one damn punch, and they don’t even see her coming. Trust me, she can take care of herself, and she likes doing it.”

“Xavier from American Ninja Warrior trains her? Holy shit.”

Al nodded. “Yep. Holy shit is right. Let me give you a golden piece of advice if you’re still trying to date her. She’s not the type of woman you protect, or coddle, or smother. If you want that, go get a dog instead, or some pretty, pampered Southern princess.”