Interesting.
Before I can think much about it, Brad reaches across the table.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he says.“Let's not end the night angry.”
Sweetheart?
Absolutely not.
I lean back.
He grabs my hand.
I pull away.
Then—the idiot actually tries to yank me across the table for a kiss.
And suddenly a shadow falls over our booth.
“Can I help you?”Brad/Chad asks.
A deep voice says one word.
“Nope.”
A fist flies.
And my terrible date hits the floor.
I stare.
The entire bar goes silent.
Then I slowly look up.
Way up.
Holy.
Mother.
Of.
God.
The gorgeous biker from the bar is standing over us.
And I swear—for one impossible second—his eyes seem to glow.
Two
Rand
The bar goes back to minding its own business.
Which is good.
Because I sure as hell haven't.
