Page 89 of Heart Over Heels

“Bravo!” she exclaimed, loud enough to be heard over the soundtrack for Zephyr’s aerial hoop routine.

The guy at the front of the line thrust out his ID, and I accepted it with a fumbling grab. After a quick scan of the birthdate and a glimpse of his face, I passed it back and then waved him through.

“You’re congratulating me?” I asked Colette. “For what?”

“He likes you.” The hellhound jerked her chin toward the interior of the club, and I looked that way.

Darby breezed by inside, balancing a drink tray while stuffing a wad of bills into the front of his corset. The outfit had kept my eyes busy for hours, tracing the zig-zag line of ribbon that cinched his waist and flared to accommodate the luscious curve of his ass.

It was hard to believe that earlier today I’d had my hands on that body.

Inthat body.

“You think so?” My pulse jumped as I said it.

Colette leaned against the stanchion post and smiled. “He sets the tone around here, and the tone lately has been nothing short of smitten. I had to inform Lucas that his strip club has turned into a matchmaking service.”

I winced. “You told Mister Beckett about it?”

“You two are kindred spirits,” she replied. “Like hunters trying to snare rabbits.”

“Rabbits?” I echoed while reaching for another ID.

Colette hummed in acknowledgment. “Soft little things that are prone to run and hard to catch. But who doesn’t love a good chase?”

Had I been chasing? Maybe. Though when it came to Darby, I often felt more like prey than predator. A willing victim of his wiles and charm.

“So, Darby’s a rabbit?”

She nodded. “And Zephyr is a fish, according to Lucas.” Stepping back, she opened the door for a group of customersfiling out, then added, “I prefer rabbits, though. Not so cold and slimy.”

“I hope we aren’t supposed toeatthe rabbits,” I muttered. “Or the fish…”

Colette shrugged one shoulder, and her brown eyes glinted merrily. “I’m not here to judge what—or whom—you put in your mouth,mon grand.”

A group of five surged to the front of the line, bombarding me with wallets and IDs. Colette chuckled and headed inside, leaving me with my work and my thoughts for the remainder of the shift.

After close, I finished my rounds then checked the bathrooms and the back exit before cutting through the hall that led past the kitchen.

The dolls were inside, chattering away, and Darby was among them.

He wore slippers and a plush velvet robe as he squeezed between Colt and Elliot in a line passing by the stove. Someone said something that made him laugh, and the sound carried—a soft, melodic thing that settled low in my chest.

Hedidseem happy.

Because of me?

I could’ve stepped in. Could’ve made some excuse to talk to him or invited him over again. But he was with his friends, his family, and I didn’t want to ruin that.

So I headed out.

The Victory waited in the parking lot, its chrome trim aglow in the light of the sign overhead. I donned my helmet and started the motor, then took one last look at the club before venturing out into the dark.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the garage and rolled the door down. Work at the Dollhouse always left me in an odd state of awareness. My body expected to be in bed at this late hour,but my brain had been schooled into vigilance, so it took some time to unwind.

I kicked down the stand and swung off the bike with the hum of the engine still ringing in my ears. After stripping off my gloves and stowing my helmet, I angled toward the door to the house.

Stepping inside brought the living area into focus. When my gaze swept over the couch, my body snapped taut and the breath whooshed out of me.