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With a nervous giggle, I bring my gaze back to Colin and brush a hand in Tim’s direction. “He didn’t mean it. He’s just defensive ever since he became the head of the family. He feels responsible for me for some reason, but refuses to let me have even the barest of fun.” Sliding off the stool, I snag my drink and wait for Colin to do the same. “I’d love to hang out with you over there.”
“Yeah?” He looks to Tim, then across to the booth waiting for us.
I nod again in encouragement so he steps away—but when I move my legs to do the same, Tim’s hand wraps around my arm and yanks me to a stop until I hiss.
He pulls me back until we’re almost nose to nose. “Don’t make rash decisions because you’re feeling rebellious and petty, Emeri. I won’t play.”
“You carried me home last night.” I smile when his face drains white. Then, lifting a finger to my forehead, I add, “And you kissed me here.”
“Aubree—”
“I care about you.” Slowly, I tug my arm from his grasp. “It’s actually ridiculous how much I care. And you havenocomprehension of how stupid I feel about it. But there it is, and webothknow you knew I felt that way.”
“Aubree!”
“But you’re dating someone else. And I’m tired of being alone.”
I’m not good with confrontation. And I’ve already cried once today. But I can’t continue this game of Will He, Won’t He?
“I’m a grown woman, Tim. I have feelings. And wants. And needs. And, well, you know where I stand on all this. So for as long as you continue to date anyone except me, I should probably stop waiting for you.” I cup my glass in two hands and spare a glance across the bar to where Colin waits with a curious stare.
But the next moment, when the door opens and my gaze moves to it instinctually, I have to work hard to tamp down my anger when none other than Tim’sgirlfriendwalks in.
“It’s not fair to her that you even look at me. That you carry me home.” I turn back and press the tip of my finger to my brow. “That you kiss me here.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he growls. “She’s a woman I hang out with sometimes.”
“Okay, well…” I shrug and fuss with the straw in my drink. “Maybe I can be the woman Officer Colin hangs out with sometimes. He seems nice. He’s on the force, so you know Arch and Fletch will keep him on good behavior. And the best part is, you get to stop worrying about me too.”
Stepping away from the bar as the woman in a sheer lace camisole weaves her way closer, I glance back at Tim and hate how the sadness in his eyes makes me feel bad.
He’s the one banging every other woman in this city, and yet, I’m to feel guilty for having a drink with a nice man?
“I’ll see you around,” I tell him.
Then, turning on my heels, I fix my face and smile as I approach Colin. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s fine.” He takes my hand and helps me lower into the booth. “Everything okay over there?”
“Absolutely. We were discussing another of our brothers, but everything is fine now.”
“Another?” He slides into the booth on my left and doesn’t stop until the entire right side of his body is flush with the left side of mine. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Four.” That’s not a lie, so I release the nervous giggle tickling my throat and bring my drink up to sip. “I’m one of eight children. You?”
He snorts. “One of… one. Are all the rest as protective as the one pouring my beer?” He looks down at his glass and studies it for a moment. “And is this safe to drink?”
“That one?” I snigger. “Go for it. But probably don’t ask for a refill.”
MINKA
Asingle knock at the door has me looking up. But I don’t slide off my couch to answer it, since the way the handle jiggles tells me everything I need to know about who is visiting me, and despite the locks designed to keep people out, they serve no purpose at all when faced with Archer Malone.
I slowly push Factor VIII through the syringe I already prepped and inserted into my vein, but when the door clicks open and Archer himself steps in, I spare him a fast glance. “Hey.”
His gaze automatically drops, and when he realizes I’m not getting up, he crosses my kitchen and stops at the back of my couch to confirm what he already knows. “You usually do it a little later at night, right?” Kicking his boots off, he climbs over my couch with a grunt and plops down on my side to pull me closer. “You extra tired from a late night?”
“Had nothing else to do, and you were still working.”
