"I'll take my girlfriend wherever I want!" The trembling chin contradicted the confidence in the little jerk's arrogant reply.
Conversations behind them stuttered to a stop and the noise level in the club dropped several octaves. An anxious yearning filled the air, hanging on held exhales. The crowd hoped for a fight.
"This is my club. People don't get hurt in my club. Get the hell out of here." Crossing his arms over his chest, Sean sent his fiercest scowl down at the younger man. "She stays. You go."
The shaggy-haired punk shoved the redhead away. He backed off, but didn't break eye contact. He'd had enough to drink to mouth off, but not enough to brave a physical altercation.
Thank God for small favors. Customers taking swings meant the cops got called. There wasn't much Sean hated worse than a damn cop in his club. The girl teetered and wobbled after the abrupt release of her arm.
The scrawny turd shot her an evil glance and snapped, "We'll talk about this later when you don't have your new bodyguard beside you." The little asshat stomped out of the club, his friends following like they were on a tow trailer attached to his ass.
Sean turned his attention back to the girl. She cradled a bruising wrist against her chest and looked up at him. Her bright green eyes filled with tears, her shoulders started to shake, and he couldn't fucking breathe. Something in his chest twisted. His arms ached for her and it took every minuscule ounce of self-control he had to keep his hands to himself, to not sweep her into his arms, carry her to the back, and make her his.
"Aww hell, don't cry. Come on." Laying a hand on her shoulder, he steered her toward the back of his club. The crowd parted easily to allow them passage. Unlocking the door, he pushed her into his office and toward the couch. "You want me to call you a cab? Or someone to pick you up?" he asked, careful to keep his voice calm. He didn't want to spook her further.
Sobs racked her thin shoulders and he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled her into his arms and whispered reassurances. His hand came up to rub her hair and he brushed his lips across the top of her head. Those sweet little arms of hers slipped around his waist and he strangled back a moan. Her tears slowed, but she still struggled to regain her composure. Sean fought down the rush of desire when she shifted closer and her soft curves pressed into his chest. He tightened his arms around her and inhaled the clean scent of her shampoo. She affected him more than he wanted to admit. More than she should have. It's been too long.
When she'd sat down at his bar and turned such a pretty shade of pink, he thought he might take her home tonight. Forget his voluntary vow of celibacy for the evening. He'd dusted off his game and had been ready to get his flirt on when that little fucker dragged her off the stool. That little shit was lucky as fuck he left the club with all his parts attached.
"If I call my parents, they'll flip. I don't have money for a cab." She sniffed. Her cheek rested against his shoulder. Parents? Shit.
Lust thoroughly squashed, Sean shoved a tissue into her hand. "I can take you home if you want. Just give me a few minutes to get some things settled out front." When she nodded, he continued, "Let me ask you something. What's a pretty girl like you doing with a bozo like him anyway?"
"I can't thank you enough for all your help tonight. I... I know now that I should've broken things off with Caleb a while ago. But I... I just didn't know how to without making him angry."
"You're afraid of him." He phrased it as a statement, not a question. And it didn't surprise him a bit when she only nodded. He'd seen a lot of abused women in his time and this one's behavior screamed abused. She looked up at him with her sad, vulnerable eyes and Sean inhaled a ragged breath. He wanted to kiss her. To protect her from jerks like that Caleb.
He shook his head trying to shake some sense into his stupid self. She had things rough enough without a guy like him lusting after her. And Lord knows, a teenage girlfriend didn't make his to-do list. Or his want list. He'd worked too hard to get Garden off the ground, to get his shit together. He wouldn't throw years of work out the door for a teary-eyed redhead.
Just his luck that the first woman he'd found seriously attractive in a while turned out to be entirely too young.
* * * *
With one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the bartender surrounded her with his warmth. An inch separated their thighs. The light and spicy scent of his aftershave tickled her nose and she liked it. The very masculine scent suited him well. Caleb smelled like he bathed in cologne, but this man smelled amazing. Mouth-watering. He wore enough aftershave for her to get a good whiff up close, but not enough to overpower. Perfect. Staring up at him, she watched those blue eyes darken with an emotion she couldn't name. She licked her lips and stared up at him in anticipation. She leaned closer, pleading silently for him to kiss her.
Disappointment dashed over her when he stood and said, "I'll be right back."
A longing she didn't quite understand ached deep within her. She didn't even know him. He was so not her normal type. It didn't make a lick of sense. But damn, his lips on hers sounded good. It must be stress. A reaction to how he'd protected her. Or maybe it was the way he filled out that shirt. Lord, those shoulders. Who knew flannel could be such a turn on?
True to his word, the big man came back a few minutes later. With his hand on the small of her back as a guide, he directed her out the back door to the service alley. He led her over to a big black Harley and held a helmet out to her.
"Uh..." A motorcycle? Why couldn't he have a sports car or a truck? Of course a tattooed bartender would drive a motorcycle.
The smug look on his face made her want to prove his assumptions wrong. Prove to him she wasn't a goody-goody, scared shitless to climb on top of a motor with wheels and fly down the road under someone else's control.
"It's this or you call someone."
Screw that.
She snatched the helmet from his hand. Talia gave him the address and fiddled with the strap, trying to figure out how to adjust it. His hands came up to tighten it for her and their fingers brushed. She sucked in a deep breath at his touch. His low chuckle took that spark of anger and kindled it into a blaze of desire. With the street lamps behind him, she couldn't read his expression. His hand closed over hers for a brief second before he jerked it away. He straddled the bike and pulled his own helmet on.
She climbed on behind him and he started the motor. Talia jumped at the sudden roar of the engine and clung tight to his broad back. His chest shook with laughter beneath her hands. Talia relaxed a bit as the bike moved and they didn't crash. She slid her arms around his waist and started to enjoy the ride, to enjoy the feel of holding a man.
She'd never been on a motorcycle before. Had never wrapped her arms around a complete stranger like this, either. She didn't know his name, but she knew the strength in his muscles and the rhythm of his breathing. When she hugged him tighter, her fingers slipped through the button placket on his shirt. Instead of removing her hand, she combed through the tangle of hair on his chest, surprising herself with her boldness. His hand dropped back to squeeze hers for a moment, but he didn't pull her hand away.
The ride ended too soon when he rolled the bike to a stop in front of her house. She stumbled getting off the bike, but he caught her before she face-planted on the sidewalk. He even walked her up to the door and waited behind her on the porch while she tried to unlock it. Her trembling hand dropped the keys and he bent to grab them before she could react.
"My name's Sean, by the way." He unlocked the door for her and handed her keys back.
"Sean. That's a very nice name. It fits you. I'm Talia." Did he expect to come in? They had just met...
He leaned one broad shoulder against the wall next to the door and stared down at her. Shadows hid part of his face from her, but his eyes glittered in the dim light.
Sean's chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. "Would you've said the same thing if I'd told you that my name was Bruno?"
A giggle snuck out. Bruno? Not a chance Bruno would f
it him.
"I've gotta get back to work. Will you be okay here if he follows you home?"
"He won't come here and try anything. It looks like my dad's home."
He reached over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her muscles tightened and she flinched away from his touch. He retracted his outstretched hand and whispered, "You don't have to be afraid of me. Unlike some guys, I don't hit girls."
Talia nodded, but she couldn't control the physical reaction. The hurt flashing across his face sent a flutter of regret through her very being. Sean himself didn't scare her, but men were unpredictable. He didn't start back toward his bike until she stepped inside and the deadbolt clicked. Talia watched from the front window as he rode away.
About the Author
As a busy mother of five, Allie sneaks time to write between breakfast and tickles. Always a Kentucky girl at heart, she currently makes her home near Nashville.
Visit her at www.alliekincheloe.com for news about upcoming releases.
Free Pass (Free Will Book 1) Page 16
