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The other man was taller than Sam, but he was skeletally thin and Sam knew how to intimidate with nothing but a glare and an open, loose-limbed stance. Legs braced apart, shoulders back, hands loosely hanging at his sides, he looked combat ready. He was combat ready, despite his injuries. If this guy didn’t move his hand from Lia’s arm very soon, Sam was going to fuck him the hell up.
“Problem here?” he asked grimly, and Lia blinked from the other guy to Sam, looking completely confused. She pulled her arm out of the other man’s hold, and Sam relaxed marginally.
“Who are you?” the taller man asked resentfully, his huge Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“Brand. You?”
“Gregory Marsh. Dahlia and I are seeing each other.”
Sam looked at Lia and raised his eyebrows at her. She looked uncomfortable and slanted her eyes away from his.
Really? This guy? This was the guy with whom she was getting serious? Okay, so this was a small town and maybe there weren’t many eligible men around, but Lia was . . . she was Lia, and this guy was not worthy of her. Not because he was weird-looking and smelled funny, but because he didn’t look at her like she meant the world to him. He didn’t look like he’d appreciate strawberry flowers on his waffles or breakfast faces, and maybe Sam didn’t appreciate those things, either, but it was already established that Sam was the wrong man for her. If this was an example of the kind of man she considered right, then she was going to have to reevaluate her wish list. Because this guy was all kinds of wrong for Lia.
“Gregory, what are you doing here?” she asked uncomfortably.
“I saw you come in, and since you haven’t been answering my texts, I thought I’d come over and ask you in person if you’d like to have dinner tonight.”
“I-I . . . can’t.” Brand watched the uncomfortable little exchange with extreme interest. Lia didn’t seem all that into her Mr. Right. What was that all about?
“Why not?” Good old Greg practically snarled the question, his gaze sliding to Sam, who made no secret of his avid curiosity. Once again the other man’s hand went around Lia’s arm, and Sam heard the low growl in the back of his throat. The other two heard it as well, and both of them looked at him in shock. Truth be told, Sam was a bit shocked as well. But the sight of that arsehole’s bony hands on Lia’s soft skin pissed him off and made him want to get violent. Luckily for Greg, he released Lia’s arm, but he shifted so that he was standing between Lia and Sam. He lowered his voice, but Sam still heard every word. As he was certain Gregory intended him to.
“The other night was so good. I can’t stop thinking about it. Your soft skin, your sweet mouth . . . the way you rubbed against my . . .”
“Stop it,” Lia hissed. “That wasn’t what you imagined it to be.”
“Why are you doing this? Are you playing hard to get? Or are you just a cocktease?”
Lia gasped, and Sam’s temper snapped.
“Not very gentlemanly of you, mate,” he chastised, grabbing the back of Gregory’s scrawny neck and yanking him away from Lia. “Fuck off out of here before I snap you in two. Don’t let the cast on my arm fool you—I’m pretty capable of breaking parts of you if I want to.”
The guy gave him a terrified look but still managed to get a word in before he scuttled off back to whatever fucking hole he’d crept out of.
“I know we have something, Lia. Call me.”
The encounter had drawn stares, and Sam met every curious pair of eyes challengingly before everybody looked away and pretended to go back to what they were doing before.
“Seriously, Lia? That guy? He’s the guy you were getting serious about?” Lia winced and refused to meet his eyes.
“You’re going to have to look at me sometime, sunshine,” he said, surprising himself with the endearment. It suited her much more than the more aloof “princess” did. The endearment startled her into looking at him, and he smiled at her. “Tell me about Gregory.”
“Not now,” she said, her furtive gaze going around the room, where everybody was looking at everything but Lia and Sam.
“Then I believe it’s time for lunch.”
It was only as they were walking into MJ’s that it finally registered with Lia that it was Thursday and that Daff was waiting for her at their usual table. The expression on her sister’s face darkened when she saw Brand, and when Lia looked at the man walking beside her, she saw that his face bore a similar expression to Daff’s.
Well, they would have to suck it up and play nice, because Lia was angry and irritable after Gregory’s confrontation and she really, really needed a glass of wine or something to soothe her nerves.
