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The general store’s crowded from storm prep, locals grabbing propane, canned food, and supplies before the second wave of the storm his and the roads close again tonight.

The second we walk in, people move aside automatically.

Not for me.

For us.

Nora notices it too.

The way men stop staring once I step beside her.

The way conversations lower when we pass.

The way everyone suddenly treats her differently because she’s attached to me now.

Her expression tightens slightly.

“You hate this,” I murmur.

“I hate that it works.”

Fair.

We split up briefly inside the store while I grab supplies from the back.

Big mistake.

I spot the problem instantly when I come back around the aisle.

Drunk guy.

Mid-thirties.

Local idiot named Travis.

His hand’s on Nora’s waist while he leans too close saying something that already has irritation flashing across her face.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says. “You can’t honestly be into Maddox. Guy barely talks.”

Nora steps back immediately. “Move.”

Instead of moving, his hand tightens.

That’s all it takes.

I cross the distance before I consciously decide to.

One second he’s touching her.

The next, I’ve got his wrist twisted hard enough to drop him halfway to his knees.

He yells instantly.

The entire store goes silent.

“What the fuck, Rhett?”

“Touch her again,” I say calmly, twisting harder until his face goes white, “and I’ll break it.”