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Oh, the bastard knew why he was there. He’d probably got the warning from her brothers.
“How ya doin’, Fieldman?” he asked the man brave enough to touch Poppy in his presence.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the owner, Mike, watching the gathering with a worried expression.
“Bridger. Didn’t expect to see you back in town.” Fieldman almost sneered the words.
Jack couldn’t help but smile.
“Well surprise, surprise, here I am.” Jack held his hands out slightly away from his body as he let his lips curl in anticipation. He did enjoy a good fight; unfortunately, he doubted he was going to find one here.
“I’m leaving.” Poppy came to her feet quickly, barely evading Fieldman as he moved to grip her wrist. “Jack.” She stared at him coolly.
“Like hell,” John David burst out. “You don’t have to leave because of him, Poppy. He can leave.”
Jack chuckled, staring back at her brother as he would a toddler displaying a temper. Which was pretty much how he saw the other man.
He returned his gaze to Poppy and caught her giving a little roll of her eyes.
“I’ve had enough for the night,” she informed her brother. “Fiascoes rarely interest me, and this began heading there once he showed up.” She waved her hand toward Fieldman. “You should have given him hazard pay for what you put him up to.”
Poppy knew exactly what her brother was doing. He wanted to push Jack into a fight, believing Poppy would be able to walk away from him if fists started flying.
“I’m tired.” She looked at Jack once again. “And I rode in with Sasha, if you’d like to give me a ride home?”
It was as though the better part of the tension eased from Jack’s body. His expression didn’t change, but his gaze softened, going from gleaming with battle to warming in a way she had no idea how to describe.
“I insist,” he told her, his voice still hard, cool as he stepped around the table to her.
She’d expected him to grip her arm and tug her after him; men liked to do that where women were concerned. Instead, he surprised her again by holding out his hand to her.
She placed her hand on his, feeling his fingers curling protectively around her hand rather than gripping it.
How odd, she thought, something softening within her. Jack had never held her hand, but she found she liked it. His grip was warm and just slightly firm, as though he were consciously ensuring he didn’t put too much pressure on her fingers.
“Poppy.” John David pulled her gaze back to where he’d stood from his seat, his expression tightly pinched with disapproval. “I’ll be by the house later.”
“She won’t be there,” Jack stated. “You may want to stop by my place.” Then he turned back to her. “Ready?”
“Might as well be,” she sighed. “Before he does something stupid. Or you do.”
She stepped beside him and let him lead her to the door.
“Stupidity is my preferred state of being,” he told her in that dark, far-too-sexy voice. “Want me to teach him a few manners? I can help him out.”
“As I said,” she muttered. “You or him.”
He was angry, and she knew it. He wasn’t really hiding it. But he wasn’t reacting with it, either. Whatever he was pissed over—and she had a feeling she knew—she’d hear about soon enough.
Whether she wanted to or not.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jack led Poppy into the house, through the kitchen, and into her bedroom. Once there, he surprised her by taking her into the bathroom, turning on the lights, and positioning her in front of the mirror over the sink.
“What do you see?” The snarl on his face had her eyes widening as their gazes met in the mirror.
She knew what he meant, and she wasn’t going to waste both their time.
