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Eventually, he relents. “Fine. Thanks.”
“Good.” Oliver claps his hands together and strolls to the counter.
“Sorry about Oliver.” I don’t like the way it sounds coming out of my mouth, but I feel the need to apologize for my boyfriend crashing our little get-together.
Jack shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “It’s cool.”
He slumps into the chair and glances around. With no conversation, it’s far too easy to pick up other chatter, and once again, I try to block out the hushed whispers from one of the nearby tables. Two teenage girls snicker and point. Jack pauses, gaze on them, and from where I’m sitting, it’s hard to read his expression.
Whatever the look, the girls stop talking and he turns to me. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Um…uh.” Nerves churn inside me. “Yes. I’ve never had this happen to me before.”
“Not even in school?”
“No. I was lucky to go about my business. Let’s ignore them.”
He scrunches his face, probably not satisfied with my advice. Just then a young couple brush past our table. The woman bumps into the back of my chair with enough force that it moves a bit.
Before I can think it was an accident, she whispers, “Cheater.”
A chill skitters up my spine and my insides turn to ice. The harassment doesn’t end there. Next is the man she’s with. He isn’t so discreet when he passes. Loud enough for Jack’s eyes to nearly pop out of his skull, the man mutters, “Whore.”
The teenager across from me jumps to his feet. Eyes feral and fists at the ready, Jack blocks the man’s path. “What did you say?”
A few inches taller than Jack but not as muscled, the twenty-something man has a look about him. Stocky, with two bumps on the bridge of his crooked nose where it was likely broken. If I had to guess, he’s a bruiser, and whatever this is quickly becoming with Jack, the man welcomes the opportunity to hit someone.
I stand, not willing to let this escalate into a fight, and the next thing I know, Oliver is there.
Hastily depositing our plates on the table with a clatter, he pushes his way between the two. “Hey, what happened?”
Rocky-the-wannabe’s girlfriend creates a commotion, hands flailing around her as she squeals, “Leave him alone.”
All three of us ignore her as Jack, red-faced, glares at the bully boyfriend while answering Oliver. “He called…” the poor teen sputters, clearly not wanting to repeat the nasty word. “He was trash talking Miss Wren.”
Oliver’s darkening gaze finds mine, and I’m not sure what he sees, but it’s enough for him to grab the man by his jacket and haul him close. The men are maybe two inches apart, and in a low and gruff voice, Oliver demands, “Apologize to the lady.” His handsome face has morphed into something grim and threatening.
The guy snorts and screws up his already mean face. “Don’t see no lady.”
Oliver growls, tightening his grip, and Jack shuffles forward at the man’s insolence.
I pull on Jack’s shirt and wrench his shoulder toward me so he’s forced to look at me. “Please let this go. He’s not worth the trouble. It’s okay.”
As the final words slip from my mouth, I realize my mistake and also feel to my core how very wrong they are.
Nothing about this isokay.
It’s never okay for someone to toss angry, hateful words at another. Especially when this man doesn’t know me or my situation yet he finds it so easy to judge.
Oliver hauls the man by his coat collar, girlfriend still shrieking behind them, out of the bakery.
Chapter26
Oliver
Still somewhat shaken, Wren enters her house on autopilot, completely ignoring both Gretzky and Jordan’s greeting. Usually, she is just as excited to see them with loving words, pets, and nuzzles. Instead, she wanders into the kitchen with her coat still on.
“You okay?” I follow and tug at her sleeve to stop her.
