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I think I might puke, until a low, rich voice cuts through the noise. It cuts through everything, the fear, the panic, the disgust.
“She said to let her go.” It’s Gray, standing right in the guy’s face, staring him down.
“Gray…” It comes out as a little squeal.
My fear turns instantly to happiness. I’m blinking so hard, I can’t take my eyes off him, even though he’s leaning dangerously close to Whiskey Blaire, who’s still clutching my arm.
“Who the fuck are you?” Blaire steps to Gray, and my happiness gets a little panicky.
“Please just let me go.” It’s like I’m caught in the middle of some ridiculous face-off where this idiot thinks he’s tougher than my sexy, six-foot-two war vet.
I try jerking my arm again, but this guy has a grip.
“Hey! Look who’s back!” Dag’s loud voice rings from across the bar, and I hope this means Blaire’s going to get a clue.
I’m wrong.
“Last warning, buddy.” Gray speaks through clenched teeth. The muscle in Gray’s jaw moves, and his nostrils flare. “Let her go.”
“What the hell’s going on here?” Dag slaps a hand roughly on Blaire’s shoulder. “You hassling my man Gray’s lady?”
Finally, the guy relents. His grip on my wrist loosens, and I snatch my hand away. “May I have my phone back, please?”
Gray hasn’t backed down. His eyes are still locked on Blaire, who slowly hands my phone with a dramatic flair. He’s so stupid, I take it and shake my head. Dag’s hand slides
off his shoulder, and I’m ready to rush into Gray’s arms.
“What? No thank you?” Blaire shouts at me, and that’s it.
Gray grabs him by the jaw, lifting him off his feet and ramming his back against the wall so hard the photos bounce. “You’d better get the fuck out of here before I throw you out.”
The guy claws at Gray’s hand on his neck, his eyes squeezed shut. “Put me down, man.” His voice is a strangled plea.
“You’re going to leave here and never come back.” Protective fury ripples off Gray in waves.
I want to try and stop him before he kills the guy, but I don’t want to get in the way.
“Gray, man…” Dag, like me, is holding out his arms and trying to diffuse the situation.
“Okay, break it up!” The ancient bartender Mose comes from around the end of the bar, a Louisville slugger in his hand. “Let him go, Rambo, before I have to do something I don’t want to.”
Gray still doesn’t move. He blinks a few times, then another second ticks past.
“Come on, Gray. Let him go.” Dag carefully puts his hand on Gray’s shoulder. “He’s done here.”
Another second ticks by, and I see his fingers relax. He releases the guy all at once, and Blaire falls in a heap on the floor.
“That’s it now pay your bill and hit the road, Jack.” Mose stands over the guy, tapping the bat against his palm.
Gray takes a step back, and I see he’s breathing hard. His eyes are still trained on the crumpled heap on the floor, but I’m ready for him to look at me.
“Holy shit, mini-orgasm!” Ruby is beside me fanning her face. “Gray is a total badass!”
Finally, the guy starts to move. He slowly rises to his feet, and Mose takes him by the arm, leading him to the other side of the bar to settle his bill.
Gray turns to me, and everything seems to fade away. The music gets quieter, the people disappear. It’s like we’re in a special tunnel, just Gray and me. Our eyes meet, and his are so stormy and intense, so focused.
I remember how focused he can be, and the space between my thighs heats.
