Chapter 19

Joe had been anticipating another date with Mike on Monday night, but as it turned out, his son had a basketball game. Mike had been torn. He'd invited Joe, but she'd declined.

Spending an hour with his kids on Sunday, even though it had gone well, didn't mean she knew them well enough to intrude on a family sports night. She'd told Mike in no uncertain terms to go to the game, even though—secretly—she pouted. Joe had kind of thought they'd move their agenda on to sex-after-dinner tonight, but now that had been put on hold. She was scheduled for shifts at the bar for the next five nights, and Mike worked days, so meeting up during that time would be extremely difficult.

The only thing they had planned was a well-chatted about, long hike for the following Saturday; one they hoped the kids would spill to their mother after Joe and Mike had expounded on it while they'd sat around talking.

Whether it worked or not, at least it was a known entity; a boring stake-out. Joe had spent the majority of her life laying under a bush or chewing stale food in her cold car while waiting for a perp, and this would be no different.

Well. Almost.

This time she'd have Mike by her side, and she just knew there'd be nothing tedious about that, success, or no success.

They'd spread their bait. Now they just had to wait to see if the info would be gobbled up, and the rat-trap sprung.

Gettingready for work late in the day on Tuesday, Joe eyeballed the short skirt and tight T-shirt she'd wear, grimacing at how much it displayed her body. She almost went for her black pants and button down, but… That was the point, wasn't it? To blend in? And that's what the other servers always wore, sooo…

Joe slathered on the makeup, another perk of the job. Not. She picked up her purse and headed out, making sure to lock up after herself. The sample of what she believed to be xylazine was still in her safe; her mind not yet made up as to whom she should give it. She was leaning toward Mason, but just in case Lester decided to play nice and got back to her with the intel she didn't need now that she had it from Mike, she'd hang on to the bag a little longer.

During her drive to work, she kept one eye on not only Benji's rig on her phone app, but also on the warehouse cameras she'd installed. So far, over the course of two days, there'd been no activity at all. It was frustrating, the operation not moving along, but Joe supposed she should be thankful. The longer she was in Maine, the longer she'd have to see if the situation with Mike would go anywhere.

But not seeing him since Sunday? Well, it was one more letdown to add to her pile of annoyances.

The drive was short, and she took a good, long look at the parking lot when she arrived. There were no perp vehicles. Too bad. She was ready to tag another one if she got the chance.

When she walked into the bar, the server on the shift before hers gave Joe a quick smile before hightailing it out with a roll of her eyes.

Great.That meant Wendel was in one of those moods.

An hour into her shift,the establishment was pretty quiet. But seriously? That hadn't stopped Wendel from groping her nearly every time she had to get something from behind the bar.

After his fifth attempt to get his hand up under her skirt, she finally turned to him and growled. "If you value those fingers, hon," she drawled extra-hard, "you might want to keep them away from my hoo-hah."

The man, clearly an idiot, smirked. "You know you love it. Or you will, soon enough," he leered. "If you start playing nice, I can make things a lot sweeter for you, here."

Joe was seeing red, but dialed back her nasty retort, soft-pedaling instead. "Wendel, sweetie, I have been playing nice." She gave him a sickly-sweet smile. "And now I'm giving you a friendly-like warning. When I hit my limit, you'll wish you'd never started your game." With a nod, Joe picked up the three beers he'd just poured, whisking them and herself away before Wendel could get in the last word.

Heaven help her with that grassbowl. If he pushed her buttons any harder, she was going to take him down, job and cover be damned. The man was a clueless pig.

Joe's night went without incident for the next hour; the bar picking up as it got later. But it was disappointing that neither of her suspects showed up, nor did Mellie and Cameron. The whole night was one big ho-hum, and she couldn't wait for it to end. Luckily, it being a Tuesday, the bar closed at midnight, so…

She glanced at the clock. Only three more hours to go.

A large group of boisterous young women entered a few minutes later, clearly celebrating something that had them all in a fine humor. Joe went to greet them with a huge smile. "Hey ladies," she grinned. "It's a slow night, so I'm really glad to see you. How about we push a few tables together for y'all?"

"That's so nice," the one Joe pegged as the leader grinned. "We're celebrating."

It looked like they might have begun the festivities several hours earlier.

"Really, hon?" Joe questioned. "What's the occasion?" She walked them toward the best lit corner of the establishment, not wanting them anywhere near a few of the rougher patrons in attendance tonight.

"The office where we work just gave out second quarter bonuses, so we're flush and ready to party."

Joe grimaced. The woman had said it a little loudly, and ears around the joint had most assuredly perked up. If Joe wasn't mistaken, this good-looking crew would be getting offers all over the place. Some nice. Some not so nice.

Joe would have to keep a close eye on them.

They weren't bitches either, these rollicking ladies. They didn't hesitate to help Joe rearrange furniture to suit their party, they included her in their banter, and when they finally settled, they all thanked Joe while putting in their orders; orders that didn't usually get asked for in the locals' bar.

Joe had a tough time keeping a straight face.

Did Wendel even know how to make espresso martinis?

She set out napkins, told the table she'd bring snacks, then went back to the bar.

"Six espresso martini's, three glasses of pinot, and two margaritas."

Wendel looked at her askance, swore once or twice under his breath, but thankfully got to work, which made it a good time to slip behind the bar and grab pretzels and nuts, since his hands would be busy.

Joe had just bent to open a new case of snacks, when she felt the now familiar press of a palm to her rear.

Okay.

Joe was done. Enough was enough. He'd been warned. The man was clearly asking for a broken finger or two.

She straightened with intent, but before she could turn around, the hand disappeared, and a furious voice from right behind her cut through the ambient noise of the bar.

"If you don't want to end up with my fist in your face, you'll stop touching the lady."

Mike?

Joe was gleeful. And giddy. And she couldn't wait to see how this played out. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, but when was the last time someone had thought of coming to her rescue? Uh, never?

When Joe straightened and turned, she saw Wendel's wrist clutched in Mike's hand.

Mike was furious, Wendel was irate, and Joe was blindingly euphoric.

This could be sooo good.

The bartender spoke from between clenched teeth. "Let go of me right the fuck now, buddy, or we're going to have a problem."

The bar went silent, everyone cluing in to the drama unfolding.

"We already have a problem, buddy," Mike repeated, not loosening his grip. "The lady wasn't happy."

"How do you know, and what business is it of yours?"

Mike kept his eyes pinned to the barkeep, but spoke to Joe. "How do you feel about this man having his hands on you?" he asked.

Joe's grin refused to quit, and she was unable to pull off even a remotely serious face as she filled Mike in. "I've told him a hundred times tonight, sugar, that he needs to keep his paws to himself."

Mike blinked.

Right.The accent. He hadn't heard it before. But Mike regained his equilibrium quickly enough.

He nodded, a twitch of his lips the only indication that he was amused by her fake-persona, before he continued with Wendel. "Now you see why it's my business? The lady has clearly asked you a number of times to stop, and you haven't listened. That's sexual harassment in my book. So keep it up and find out what happens when you don't take a woman's objections, seriously."

Wendel, the fool, stood taller and displayed his muscles arrogantly, albeit while still remaining Mike's captive. "Cut the crap, asshole. The bitch is just playing hard to get. She actually loves it."

Joe could almost see steam coming out of Mike's ears as his knuckles whitened and his grip tightened. He looked lethal, and Joe thought Wendel would do well to back off. But…

"So why don't you take a hike." Wendel continued stupidly, then postured some more while pretty obviously trying not to flinch from the pain Mike was inflicting.

"Honey." Mike finally turned his gaze toward her while easily maintaining his hold. "Why don't you get out from behind the bar where you won't get hurt when your boss and I continue our little chat."

Joe wanted to stay put, but if Mike wanted to be the hero, she'd let him have it…this time. "You're no fun, Mike," she mock pouted, then pursed her lips. "But if you insist."

Wendel's loud intake of breath made her smirk.

"You…you two know each other?" he almost squeaked.

Before Joe walked back into the main room, she stood next to Mike, tilting her head up to kiss him on the cheek. "Uh, huh," she drawled. "This is my sweetie, Mike."

Wendel's eyes narrowed. "I thought you were new to the area."

Huh.What a dope. Women couldn't make friends?

Or maybe he thought his appeal would be so hard to resist, that Joe would sit around pining for him instead of branching out.

Joe didn't get the sense that Wendel would have forced her into sex, but clearly, he liked being the big cheese in his little world; to flex his muscle and touch—with impunity—what he considered, his. Which included his servers.

"Well, I was. I am," Joe answered smartly. "But I met this handsome man at the gym, and…" She moued and shrugged. "…he tickled my fancy." She rubbed her nose on Mike's cheek. "As well as a few other things."

Joe was having so much fun. Color had worked its way up Mike's neck from her not-so-subtle innuendo, while Wendel gaped. But it was time to call the entertainment quits. Wendel had drinks to make, and Joe had tables to take care of.

She sashayed out from behind the bar, and gave both men a wink.

"Wendel, honey, I'd behave if I were you. Mike's a lieutenant with the Bangor Police Department," Joe drew out the word po-lice. "He's also second in command of something y'all call your Downeast SWAT team, ya hear?"

That ought to do it.

Joe picked up a stack of clean napkins, but before she turned to head back to check on her tables, she paused. Mike looked a little deflated that she'd put an end to his reign of terror, because Wendel had smartly backed off and was attempting to placate Mike.

"Sorry, man. I didn't mean any harm."

Mike finally let go of the man's wrist, but there'd be a bruise there for a few days, for sure.

Holding up both hands now that he was free, Wendel backed up a few steps and continued his apology. "I didn't know she was yours," he spluttered. "I was just having some fun."

Mike schooled his features, and wordlessly took himself back to the patrons' side of the bar before he turned to Wendel and spoke again. "Your apology should be to Elle."

Mike waited, his jaw tight.

Wendel gave in after a short internal struggle. "Uh, sorry, Elle. Now that I know you're involved with someone, I won't touch you again."

Joe smiled brightly. "Well, bless your heart, Wendel. I'm glad we could come to an understanding."

Mike's lips twitched at the backhanded compliment, but he grew stern when his attention refocused on Wendel.

"It's not just Elle you won't touch," Mike ordered. "From now on, if you know what's good for you, you won't pursue anything with a nonconsenting female patron or employee. Do I make myself clear? I'd hate to have to report you to the local board."

Wendel's face lost all its color.

Joe had never seen the bartender quite so cowed. Apparently, his liquor license was pretty important to him because he backed off even more.

"We're good here," Wendel agreed. "Consenting women only. I promise."

He then bent his head to making martinis.

Joe practically danced across the room. Not only wouldn't she have to worry about getting groped in the future, neither would her fellow servers. And…

Mike was here!

The only way the night could get better is if her perps made a showing, but she'd take what she'd been given and be happy about it.

Mike made his way back to a table next to the female party where he sat down, watching her like a hawk as she checked on the rest of her patrons. Not one man so much as grinned in her direction, all of them having witnessed Mike's scolding. It was almost as if they were all imagining themselves in the principal's office.

Finally making her way to the ladies in the corner, Joe kept her back to Mike while she delivered their snacks and told them their drinks would be just a few more minutes.

The one Joe had deemed the leader of the pack, made no bones about eying Mike. She fanned her face with her hand. "That was so hot," she sighed. "I mean the bartender isn't bad on the eyes, but your boyfriend…" She blew a long stream of air from between her lips. "…smokin'."

Joe chuckled because… Who could blame the woman? She thought the same thing.

The posses' heads were all bobbing in agreement when another asked, "Does your boyfriend have a brother?" She said it loud enough for Mike to hear, of course, and Joe was aware that he snorted.

Joe laughed. "Sorry, shug, he's a one and only. But some of his friends on the team…" Joe left that hanging, hoping Mike wouldn't mind her throwing his besties under the bus. She could easily see Cisco in the midst of this bevy, making panties melt all around him.

"Oooh, that's right," another chimed in. "His team. And didn't I hear you saying something about a gym?"

Joe wasn't stingy. She'd share the bounty. "I did," she twanged sweetly. "The SWAT people work out there during the week." She mentioned the name of the place, and immediately phones came out to either record the info, or do a search on it.

You're welcome, Cisco.

Once she was finished with them, she turned to Mike.

"You've made quite a hit of yourself tonight," she quipped. "Not so much with Wendel, but with these ladies, here."

Mike looked over at the bevy of beauties, as did Joe, and sure enough, he was getting finger-waves from the group. He chin-lifted back, then turned all his attention to Joe.

"I hope you don't mind that I showed up here tonight."

Joe grinned. "Are you kidding? I love it. But after that display with my boss," she lowered her voice, but not by too much. She wasn't beyond titillating her audience. "I'd rather take you into the back room and jump you behind the liquor cases."

"I'm not averse to that. That southern accent…, he whispered, his eyes smoldering. "When's your break?"

Joe practically melted under his simmering scrutiny, but quickly deflated. "I don't get one," she groaned. "I'm the only one on tonight."

"Well, that's a damned shame." He shook his head and looked up at her from under his thick lashes. "But…maybe I'll get lucky and you'll ask me back to your place?"

Everything inside Joe lit up. "You're invited," she choked out. "You are so invited," she repeated a little louder, and the table of female revelers broke out into spontaneous applause.

Mike's grin matched hers.

"That's good. Because—" Mike's mouth stopped, and his face suddenly turned hard as he stared at something just beyond her.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Joe's eyes went immediately to Wendel, but the man was behaving himself. It wasn't?—

"Fuck. Don't look now," Mike ground out his next words like crushed glass. "Mellie and her friend just walked in."