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One that I promised to rip off of her when she came home later. I can still remember the sultry look she gave me when I said it.
"Can I get you something to drink?" the bartender asks, snapping me out of my reverie.
"Uh, yeah, just a beer," I mumble, my eyes never leaving Claire as she takes her seat at a table nearby.
"Coming right up," he says, uncapping a bottle and sliding it toward me. The cold glass feels good in my hand, but it does nothing to quench the fire burning inside me.
As I watch Claire from my spot at the bar, I'm reminded of how lucky I am to have her in my life. She's so unlike the people she grew up with. She's compassionate and kind-hearted, always putting others before herself. I take a swig of my beer, trying to drown out the nagging voice in my head that tells me I don't deserve her.
But no matter how hard I try to ignore it, I can't shake off the feeling that something isn't right. And as I sit there, nursing my beer and watching Claire, I vow to myself that I'll do whatever it takes to protect her—even if it means becoming the obsessive stalker I never wanted to be.
My heart clenches as I watch Claire finally sit down across from a man who is most definitely not her father. The elegant chandeliers cast a warm glow on her face, making her look even more beautiful than usual, but my racing thoughts won't let me appreciate the sight.
My hand tightens around the beer.
Who the hell is this guy?
I take a sip of the beer, not even tasting it, and keep my eyes trained on Claire and whoever the fucker sitting across from her is.
I set the beer down before I break the glass. My hands clench into fists, my knuckles turning white. Surely she didn't lie to me.
I pay close attention to their interaction, scrutinizing every little detail. Claire's body language reveals her surprise and discomfort, which eases my worry slightly. It's painfully clear that she didn't know this man would be here, and she genuinely thought she was meeting her father. The realization that her father set up this charade ignites a fury within me.
Of all the low-down, dirty tricks...
I seethe internally, my grip on the beer bottle tightening. He's trying to force her into something she doesn't want.
As I continue to observe, the man reaches out and grabs Claire's arm, causing her to wince.
And that's when I snap.
I slam my beer onto the bar counter, froth spilling over, before I jump up and stalk toward their table, anger pulsing through my veins.
"Get your hands off her!" I snarl, grabbing the man by his collar and yanking him away from Claire. His eyes widen in shock, and I can feel the tension in his body, but I don't care. All I can think about is protecting my woman.
"Billy!" Claire's voice is a mixture of surprise and relief. She jumps in, placing her hand gently on my arm. Her touch is like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, calming me down just enough to hear her words. "Billy, don't! He's not worth it."
Her soft voice breaks through the haze of rage, and I reluctantly release my hold on the man's collar. She's right. If I fuck this bastard up, they'll have my head for sure. This guy probably has enough money to put me under the jailhouse.
My glare remains fixed on him, though, as I issue a warning, "If you ever come near her again, you'll wish you never laid eyes on her."
"Are you threatening me?" he asks incredulously.
"Understood?" I growl, my voice low and menacing, leaving no room for doubt as I take a menacing step toward him. Fuck it, I'll wipe the floor with the fucker if he so much as looks at Claire again.
The man nods and takes a step back, fear evident in his eyes.
Claire squeezes my arm gently, and I turn to look at her. Her green eyes are filled with gratitude, and I can't help but feel proud that I was there to protect her.
Stunned silence falls over the restaurant as Claire whirls around and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me in for a passionate kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the feel of her lips on mine, the warmth of her body pressed against me. My heart races, and I can't help but think how lucky I am to have her in my life.
"Thank you," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear as she pulls back from our embrace. Her green eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and I know that I've done something right, even if it wasn't the most rational choice.
"I couldn't let you come alone, beautiful," I murmur, my fingers brushing her soft auburn hair away from her face. "I've always got to be there to protect you."
"I know. I'm glad you were," she tells me.
A hush still blankets the room, the fancy chandeliers casting a warm glow on the crystal glasses and silverware. I can feel the stares of the well-dressed patrons boring into us, but I couldn't care less about them or their opinions. All that matters is Claire—her happiness, her safety, her love.
