Luke Rhodes glanced up as the door of Curves opened. It was less than an hour before he was heading home, and he really wanted to get into the kitchen and clean up a bit. The night had been f*****g brutal, even by Dangerous Curves standards, with three separate fights between three separate groups of assholes.
Luke’s boss Jax Hamill had just left, his hand wrapped in a towel full of ice, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, and Luke sported a split lip and a nice bruise of his own on his cheek. When he saw John Griffin’s hulking frame taking up the whole doorway, though, he grinned.
“Hey, man,” Luke drawled. “About time you got here to see me.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” Griff paused as he took in Luke’s face. “Rough night at Curves?”
“Uh-huh.” Luke did a double-take when he saw the gorgeou
