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Before she can reply and before I get arrested, I walk to my truck. I know she doesn’t want my help, but I make sure she gets in her car and drives off before I leave.
I don’t give a fuck what she says. No man will ever be allowed to take advantage of her on my watch, and if she doesn’t want me to intervene, then she needs to stay far away from me.
Chapter Five
Kat
Going out with Colton and Presley was a bad idea. They neglected to mention Mr. Showoff would be there flaunting his muscles and good hair. Assholes. All of them.
When some guy who was five drinks over his limit stumbled to the bar to talk to me, I only gave him a smidgen of attention so I would feel less like a loser, considering I was the only person in the bar sitting alone. Colton and Presley ditched me, and Braxton was going to third base with some chick on the dance floor.
Not that I was watching, because I don’t care what he does. Or who.
The moment Braxton got in Sean’s face, I thought for sure someone would get arrested. After some pushing and shoving, Braxton punched him in the face, and Sean went down for good. By that point, my heart was racing, and my blood was boiling at the whole stupid situation.
I rushed out, needing to get away, but of course Braxton followed me. I’m not sure what came over me, but I was so annoyed with what happened that I took it out on him and told him to mind his own business. Though I feel bad for how I reacted, I’m not some pathetic damsel in distress, and I hate when people treat me like I’m fragile glass. And as the only child of wealthy parents, it’s happened my whole life. Everyone thinks I’ll break, but I’m as strong as diamonds.
By the next morning, I’m calm and collected. I have a job to get back to, and I won’t allow a shitty night to ruin my week. For the first day of my weekly special, I have the pumpkin-caramel cheesecake muffins, and they smell too good for me to be in a sour mood.
I open at eight on Sunday so the churchgoers can grab theirs before service. I don’t deliver to the B&B on Sundays, which is a nice break from getting up at four. When I hear the bells echo off the door, I look up with a smile to greet my customer, but it quickly dissipates when I see a certain cowboy hat and smug smirk.
“You must be sleepwalkin’,” I deadpan with my hands on my hips.
“Good mornin’, ma’am.” He tilts his hat at me as if this is the first time we’re meeting. “I need a variety of muffins and pastries. Three dozen, please.”
I narrow my eyes at him, wondering if he’s still drunk from the night before. “For what? Did ya host an orgy last night?”
“Why do you care, Kat? Jealous?” He arches a brow and flashes a conniving grin. God, I want to smack that look right off his stupid, charming face.
“Please.” I snort. “I have standards.”
“Not very high if you ask me.”
I reach for a muffin and aggressively place it in the box. “Well, I didn’t.”
Braxton watches me as I load up a second box. “Relax, Kat. Didn’t realize you gluten-free eaters were so damn sensitive.”
“Seriously?” I snap, my voice going up an octave. “Why the hell are you even here besides to ruin my day?”
“John asked me to pick up more pastries. Apparently, the customers were asking for more since they ran out.” His jaw tightens as if the words of praise physically hurt to say.
“Well, would you look at that. People who know how to appreciate delicious food.” I stack the three boxes and place them on the counter between us.
“Those old ladies are like a hundred. They probably lost their taste buds thirty years ago.”
“Wow…” I drag out with faux amusement. “Rude and condescending. You’re the full package.”
He reaches for the boxes and shoots me a wink. “You should know, babe.”
I pretend to as I wave my hand and shoo him away. I’ll put this on John’s tab, so I don’t have to spend an extra second near Braxton. “You have a fan-fucking-tastic day now, sir.”
“You keep that delicious mouth of yours shut, and I will.”
I spin on my heels and walk to the kitchen. Thoughts of how much I hate him fill my head, and when I reach for a pan of muffins, I forget I don’t have an oven mitt on, and the heat instantly burns my hand.
“Shit!” I scream, immediately cradling my hand to my chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter between gritted teeth as I rush toward the sink. Just as I turn on the faucet, Braxton is at my side and reaching for me.
