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“When I was on my jog the other night, the Cutthroat guy I used to date followed me.” Her eyes slid down his chest, warming him to his toes. “I couldn’t find my bodyguard, so I punched Grant in the balls and ran off.”
Rage mixed with regret flooded his mind. “Are you all right? I’m gonna kill Leftie for losing you.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, and she leaned into him.
“I’m fine, really.” Her eyes dipped shyly to the floor. “But it made me think about the stupid fight we had. I was dumb, getting so mad at you.”
He shook his head and motioned at a nymph to hop behind the bar. He could barely hear Delphi, and he wasn’t okay with that. “C’mon.”
Grabbing her hand, Brewer led her away from the door and to the back of the bar. Kevlar nodded approvingly and Hawk catcalled when they walked by. Dolly shoved them both, and Brewer made a note to thank his sister later.
The thud from the music lessened the farther away they got until they were standing at the saloon-style doors connecting the bar to the now closed tattoo parlor.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She smirked. “Of course. Took a hot shower afterward and had a couple shots of whiskey.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Had a couple more before coming here. The bistro was packed all night.”
“You should go home and sleep it off. I’ll make sure one of the prospects keeps an eye out for that douche.” Brewer bit his tongue. He didn’t want to say it, but she was tired and had a scare recently. He needed to keep her safe above all else.
Delphi pushed through the doors and into the tattoo parlor. Brewer followed, ready to guide her to his truck parked out back. He’d take her home, then make sure someone was posted outside before he left.
She set her jaw. “I only want one of your biker guys following me—not a whole rotation.”
“I don’t think I’m the right person to talk to about demands.” He pointed to their surroundings. “I run the bar, not the club.”
“But you could.” Delphi scanned the tattoo sketches pinned to the walls. “You could be the next president or vice president if you wanted.”
“I don’t.” He sighed when she started walking around the parlor, stopping to look at each of the Polaroid photos taped above the artists’ chairs. The display of artwork always impressed him. He couldn’t draw for shit, and these men and women could use an ink gun to create masterpieces on skin. They deserved every dollar they charged and then some.
“Delphi, it’s late. I’ll take you back to your apartment.”
She leaned on one of the tattoo artists’ tables. “I don’t want to go home yet.” Glancing around the room, she hopped onto the table and lay on her back. “I want to be with you.”
Taking her words as drunken gibberish, Brewer helped her up into a sitting position. “Come on, sweet cheeks. You need to sleep it off.”
Shoving at his hold, Delphi scowled. “I’ve had a total of two shots, Brewer. I’m not drunk.”
“Fine, you’re buzzed. You need a clear head, and whiskey doesn’t give anyone that.”
She didn’t budge. “I want to stay here for a while.”
He scooped her off the table, and she didn’t fight him like he expected. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Delphi bopped his nose with her index finger. “I think I prefer the hard way. It gets your hands on me, and I like that.”
He groaned, this time out loud. “Delphi, don’t.”
Ignoring him, she wiggled free of his arms and back onto the solid ground. “Don’t tell me what to do, Brewer.”
“Stop being a little brat and I won’t.”
Her eyes flashed with fury, and he steeled himself for a slap, punch, or harsh word. Instead, her lips against his caught him off guard. She wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him to kiss her back.
“Delphi, if we start this, I don’t know if I can stop,” he admitted softly, desire consuming his better sense.
She nipped his bottom lip. “Then don’t.”
CHAPTER20
DELPHI
