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He didn’t move, only turned his head to look at me. Sneer. He wasn’t from around here. Most guys had better manners than this pig and if they didn’t, they knew me, knew Jamison and would’ve walked away by now, his brains—and balls—intact.
“She’s a wild one,” he replied. Obviously, he had shit for brains.
I heard Jamison’s growl a split second before he knocked me to the side and launched himself at the man. The crack of his fist in the asshole’s face was loud enough to be heard over the music. So was the heavy thud when he hit the dirty floor. Jamison stood over him, breathing hard, making sure he didn’t get back up. A few people skirted around him as they left the bathrooms, but no one said anything.
I went over to Penelope, put my hands on her shoulders and leaned down so we were eye level. Did a quick professional assessment of her. No blood, no marks on her. Her eyes were wide, the pale blue irises only a thin circle.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, licked her lips. Her breathing was ragged, but she was holding it together. I couldn’t miss the thrum of her pulse at the base of her neck.
“I saw his hand on your leg. Did he—”
“No. I’m good. I was about to scream, but you guys, well…you guys took care of him.”
I felt a shudder run through her and I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tight. It wasn’t for her as much as for me, knowing she was safe and whole, that we’d taken care of her threat. A scream would have worked, and I had no doubt others would have interven
ed. But seeing the guy have his hands on her…to have him touch what was so perfect, what would be ours—no, what was already ours—fuck that.
She was all softness and warmth in my hold, her head resting on my chest as I stroked her silky hair. I felt her hands on my lower back, her fingers curled into my shirt and gripping tightly. We watched as two bouncers dragged the guy toward the back door at the end of the hall, Jamison following, hands on hips, to ensure he was put out with the trash.
I leaned down so I could murmur in her ear. While the music was muted here in the hallway, it was still loud. I couldn’t resist brushing a kiss against the silky strands. “I’m getting you out of here.” She nodded. “Jamison will catch up.”
I turned her so my arm was slung around her shoulders, her body pressed right up against mine. No way was there going to be any space between us. If we took up too much room, people could just move out of the fucking way.
“You,” I growled, pointing at Patrick, Shamus and the others with a narrowed gaze. We approached the table, only slowing down enough to talk. They knew instantly something had happened, and looked to Penelope with a mixture of panic and worry. This was going to be a lesson for them, one they would never fucking forget. If they didn’t protect a woman in their care, I would make sure Jamison kicked them off the ranch. If Penelope was going to live alone in the main house, I had to know she’d be safe.
After what happened to Kady Parks the month before with a fucking hit-for-hire, door locks weren’t enough in my mind.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I didn’t wait for them to do more than nod, just cut through the bar and out to my truck, never releasing my hold on Penelope. I lifted her up into the passenger seat—she was so fucking light—and stood inside the open door, trying not to think of how tiny her waist was beneath my hands. How I wanted to slide them up and cup her lush breasts, slide my thumbs over the already hard nipples. Now wasn’t the time.
I took a deep breath, let it out.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right? That you’re safe with me?”
“Safe with both of us,” Jamison called as he approached, his footsteps loud on the asphalt. “You saw what happens when someone else gets their hands on you.”
The parking lot lights cast her in a harsh orange glow, but she’d never looked prettier. Especially since she was sitting in my truck, her jean skirt settled halfway up her thighs exposing a few extra inches of her gorgeous legs. I’d wanted her here, alone with both of us, but not because of this reason.
“I know,” she replied, her voice soft, steady as she glanced from me to Jamison. “After I met you, I-I looked you guys up online. Know you’re good.”
Good? Hell, if she knew the things I wanted to do to her, she’d run back inside. Every dirty plan I had that involved her naked, willing body was very, very bad.
Jamison smiled, which was a rare sight. “What did you find, Kitten?”
I expected his voice to be harsh with anger, the adrenaline hard to burn off, but he sounded almost…tender. Especially with the endearment that suited her perfectly. I was used to it from working in the ER and was acclimated to the quick burn of energy. At least he got to punch the fucker. That must have felt damned good.
“I know you run the ranch and that you used to be a police officer in Denver. And Boone, you’re a doctor.”
“None of that ensures we’re the good guys,” I told her. But I didn’t mention I’d done some research on her as well. I had no idea how she’d made it out in the world all fragile and tiny as she was. She could be hurt so easily and that fucker who was sprawled by the dumpster was the perfect example. I doubted he was the first, but he definitely was the last to fuck with her.
Instead of climbing out of my truck in fear, she rolled her eyes and smiled. “I understand all too well. Someone’s resume doesn’t ensure they’re not jerks. But I’ve got a good sense about you two. I just…feel, know you’re good.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I glanced at Jamison.
“We’re not taking you home now. Not after that,” he said, putting his hand up on the truck cab, leaning in. “Let’s get some coffee. Let things settle first.”
