Page 46 of Rescuing Mary

“You’re a bitch,” Ruth hissed.

“Thank you,” Mary responded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Truck doesn’t want you. He’ll never want you, no matter how much you throw yourself at him. Go home while you still have some dignity left.”

Instead of answering, Ruth pressed her lips together and took a step toward Mary. She swung her arm back to slug her.

Mary grinned in anticipation and shifted her weight, readying herself for a fight. It had been a long time since she’d gotten to take a bitch down a peg or two.

But before Ruth could follow through with her swing, her wrist was grabbed and her arm twisted behind her back.

Her boobs almost popped out of the shirt she was wearing with the movement, but somehow she stayed decent as Blade spun her around and pressed her face to the wall of the hallway.

Mary turned—and saw that Beatle, Coach, Ghost, and Truck were all standing at the end of the narrow hallway, staring at them.

She swallowed hard. Shit. There were times she didn’t mind letting others see how much of a bitch she could be, but now really wasn’t one of them.

“How much did you all hear?” Mary whispered to Blade as he easily held the struggling Ruth against the wall.

“Truck isn’t a piece of meat,” Blade told her with a smirk on his face.

Mary relaxed a little bit. So they hadn’t heard the part when they’d talked about his amnesia or when she’d called him her husband.

Lifting her chin, refusing to be ashamed of what they’d heard, especially since every word was the truth, she turned toward the others as confidently as if she had smackdowns in the hallways of bars every night of the week. She walked right up to Truck and held out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Mary.”

Truck didn’t hesitate. He grinned down at her and took her hand in his own. Instead of shaking it though, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back. “I’m Truck. But you obviously know that.”

“I do. Wanna buy me a drink?”

His grin got bigger, and he didn’t let go of her hand.

“I’m not sure—” Ghost began.

But Mary didn’t let him finish. She turned and glared at him. “You’re my friend, Ghost—but butt out.”

“Mary, you can’t just—” he tried again.

“Seriously,” Mary interrupted. “I got this. You’re just going to have to trust me. I’m not going to do anything to hurt Truck. Hear me? I may not have made the greatest decisions in the past, but I have nothing but his best interest at heart.”

“Leave them alone,” Coach told Ghost. “After the way she just stuck up for him, I’d say he owes her at least one drink.”

Ghost frowned and ran a hand through his hair, but finally nodded. “Okay, but we’re gonna be watching.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Dad. I’m sure Truck appreciates you guys protecting him from big bad me.”

Truck chuckled—and the sound went straight between her legs. It seemed like forever since she’d heard it, and when he shifted their hands until their fingers were intertwined and their palms were smushed together, she couldn’t think about anything but how good he felt.

“Come on, Mary,” Truck said. “We’ll let my dads play more darts while you and I get acquainted…or re-acquainted, as the case obviously is.”

Mary nodded, then turned to glare at Ruth, who now looked appropriately cowed. A little too late, but whatever. “Don’t come at me again, Ruth. Ever. I’m a lot tougher than I look. And I won’t hesitate to defend myself.” And with that, Mary turned back to Truck and said, “I’m parched.”

Without another word, Truck led them out of the small hallway where they’d been attracting quite a bit of interest to a spot at the far end of the bar. Mary caught Rayne’s thumbs-up and the smiles of the other women at their table, and she relaxed. Ghost might not think she was doing the right thing, but her friends did. And that felt good.

How could something that felt so right be wrong? She wasn’t going to blab that they were married, and she would definitely tread carefully, but Truck was tougher than his friends thought.

Truck waited until the spunky woman was settled on the barstool before scooting the one next to her a little closer and sitting. The bartender immediately came over and Mary ordered a beer. She then ordered a water for him, in a martini glass, with extra olives.

Surprised, Truck merely stared at her.