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There were tears shining in her eyes, and the sight of them snapped something inside Adam. He moved between her and her ex. “You know what, I’m getting really tired of your brand of shit.”

Grant took a step back before he seemed to catch himself. “It’s not my fault Jules is drunk and took it wrong.”

“You offered to let me give you a BJ in the bathroom!”

Just like that, any good intentions Adam had went up in smoke—and there hadn’t been many to begin with. “You think you’re a big-time operator because you played ball, then went off to a fancy school and got yourself a law degree. Guess what? You’re still back in Devil’s Falls, the same as everyone in this bar. You’re no better than anyone else. In fact, you’re a whole hell of a lot worse.”

“And what have you done? Thirty-three and a washed-up bull rider.” Grant sneered. “I’m sure there’s an opening at the Gas ’N’ Go for the night shift.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t!”

Adam made a grab for Jules, but she slipped through his hands like water. And then she was in Grant’s face, poking him in the chest. “Damn you to hell and back, Grant Thomas. I know for a fact your mama raised you not to talk to your betters like that.”

He shook his head. “If you’re not going to put that mouth to good use, then go home, Jules. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.” And then he was gone, walking out of the bar like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Adam started after him but stopped, his need to make sure Jules didn’t take a nosedive superseding his desire to beat that jackass’s face in. He turned to find her pointing at the two blondes seated at the table Grant had occupied before all this got started. “You can’t seriously think that’s sexy.”

The one on the right shrugged. “He’s hot.”

“He’s an idiot.” The other one laughed. “But he buys us all the alcohol we can drink.”

“Good lord, that’s a low bar to set.” Jules threw up her hands. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

The first one cocked her head to the side. “Because you’re nice?”

“I need another shot.”

Adam snagged her around the waist. “Hold your horses, sugar. You drink any more tonight and you’re going to have to scrape yourself off the floor in the morning.”

“Don’t care.”

“You might not right now, but you will when you wake up hugging a toilet.” He hauled her to the bar and dug out the cash to pay for their tab. “We’re getting out of here.” Hopefully the fresh air would sober her up a little.

They hit the street, and he kept his arm around her in case the world decided to start spinning on her. Jules marched ahead, though, practically dragging him behind her, keeping up an ongoing rant about Grant. “I can’t believe him. It’s like he came back into town solely to rain on my parade. I like my life. I’m happy. I have a plan that I’m totally on track with. Why does he have to show up and make me feel like I’m failing?”

“Why do you care so much?” That’s the thing that really bugged him. The town was one thing, but she really cared what Grant thought of her. The guy made a few dickhead comments and here she was, creating a fake relationship and doing all sorts of crazy shit to prove him wrong.

Was she holding a flame for the guy?

Adam’s stomach turned at the thought. People didn’t jump through the sheer number of hoops that Jules had unless there were lingering feelings. There was no damn good reason for the knowledge to burn him up inside, but he felt like he’d swallowed a dozen hot coals.

While he was aggravated as all get-out, she stopped and leaned back against his chest. “I don’t want to go home.”

He couldn’t take her back to his mom’s house, and he didn’t have a place of his own. He walked them to his truck and opened the driver’s side door to double-check under the seat. Sure enough, there were two thick blankets under there. Most of the time, he forked over the money for a hotel room, but there were the nights when he chose the solitude of his truck over dealing with that bullshit. “You want to go for a ride?”

“A ride, huh?” She turned in his arms and waggled her eyebrows at him. Or she tried to.

Adam shook his head and lifted her into the truck. “Not like that, sugar. You’re drunk as a skunk.”

“Which means it’s the perfect time for some nooky.”

Maybe under different circumstances. But she was too drunk for a yes to really be a yes, and, fake girlfriend or not, he wasn’t the kind of man who was into that sort of thing. Tonight she didn’t need sex. She needed someone to take care of her. “Scoot over.” He followed her up into the cab and shut the door.

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