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“Hey, darlin’,” a man’s voice said from behind. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”
“Having a drink,” Daisy said.
“You wanna dance?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I just stopped by for a minute.”
He left, and she returned to her wine. Being hit on was nothing new. In France, though, she could feign ignorance of the language, and men would usually give up after her third or fourth, “no hablo.”
After chatting with the bartender and the man sitting beside her, she turned around. The place was hopping now. All the booths had filled, couples danced on the small wooden dance floor, and there was a line to play pool and darts.
People-watching was one of her favorite pastimes. She liked to put herself in the minds of others and try to figure out what their life was like or what they might be thinking at a particular moment.
The same man that had hit on her was having a go with another woman. The woman’s body language said he’d missed his mark again.
“Hey there.” A big-haired woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties, approached Daisy. “You aren’t from ’round here, are you?”
“No,” Daisy said. “Just passing through town.”
“The guys sent me over to see if you wanna shoot pool. We can play guys against us girls. And girls never have to wait in line.”
The woman had a friendly smile and seemed nice enough. “Sure,” Daisy said, hopping off the barstool. “Can’t beat jumping the line. I’m Daisy. What’s your name?”
“Loretta. You any good?”
“I can hold my own.”
Thirty minutes later, Daisy and Loretta had beaten two sets of men. Three of the guys were good-natured and laughed about it, but one was bitter and drunk and loudly claiming that Loretta and Daisy had cheated. It was the same man who’d approached her earlier. His buddies encouraged him to calm down and go home, but he was good and worked up over losing to “a couple of lousy girls.”
“I want a rematch,” the man slurred.
“Dude,” his teammate said. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
The man approached Daisy and got right in her face. “You think you’re better than me?”
“No,” Daisy said.
She was mentally preparing to use one of the self-defense moves she’d learned and practiced over the years, but before she could, the man abruptly backed away from her.
Noah had him by the collar, and neither man looked happy.
“Go. Home. Now,” Noah growled. The man opened his mouth to complain but snapped it shut at Noah’s menacing glare. After thinking twice, he scurried away, muttering something vulgar.
“Hi,” Daisy said. “I had it handled, but appreciate the assist.”
His eyes narrowed. “I told you not to leave the room without telling me. Why’d you disobey me?”
“Disobey?” Daisy’s brows shot to her forehead. “Are you serious?” She turned away, thanked Loretta and the men she’d been playing with, stalked to the bar, and ordered a beer. She felt Noah come up beside her.
“Make that two,” he said to the bartender. “Please.”
Once they had their beers, she put her back against the bar, pointedly ignoring Noah. She heard him chuckle and turned to see him staring at her. His face softened. “Okay, perhaps not the best choice of wording.”
“Ya think?” She rolled her eyes.
“Daisy, I’m trying to protect you. Your dad ispayingme to protect you,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t do that if I don’t know where you are.”
“Hey, baby,” a man said to Daisy. “You wanna dance?”
