Page 55 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

I scurry across the room to the safety of the women’s restroom, going straight to the sink to dunk my wrists under the cold faucet. And maybe my head, too, if I can’t cool down.

“Easy tiger.”

I catch my reflection in the mirror, surprised that I’m looking halfway normal, and not the panting, flushed mess I feel inside. Duke was right, I need to take it easy. I’m playing with fire here, flirting like this. And sure, Duke seems to, ahem, be rising to the bait, but he’s a red-blood American man.

What do I want to happen? Him to call my bluff, lay me down on the pool table and go crazy with the whole bar watching?

Now that would make some headlines.

I straighten up, give myself a determined nod, and exit the bathroom. You’ve got this, I tell myself, looking around the bar. Duke’s across the room, but I don’t see Tessa and Jackson?—

“Look who we have here.”

A guy steps in front of me, blocking my path. He’s around my age; stocky and balding, wearing a hockey shirt and a leer. “Slumming it for the night, huh?” he asks, his eyes raking over me.

My skin crawls under his gaze, but I don’t let him see it. I square my shoulders, and look him dead in the eye. “Get out of my way.”

“Aww, but we’re just getting to know each other,” he smirks. “I heard you like it rough.”

“And you think you’re up to the challenge?” I ask icily. “How sweet.”

I try to sidestep him, but he grabs my arm. “Think you’re too good for me?” he demands.

“I think every woman on earth is too good for you,” I shoot back, my temper rising. “And all the livestock, too.”

“Fucking slut.”

I see red, but just as I’m about to knee this asshole in the balls and take his genes out of circulation, a wall of muscle moves between us, shielding me.

Duke.

“That’s enough.” His voice is steely.

“I’ve got this,” I try to move him aside, but Duke is like a damn mountain. He refuses to budge.

“Walk away, Mickey,” he tells Drunk Guy.

“Aww, c’mon,” Mickey whines. “You’ve had your turn. Let someone else have a ride.”

“If that’s what you really want, then let’s go!” I try to duck around Duke, furious. “Come on, take that shirt off, and let me see what I’m working with. What are you waiting for, hot stuff?” I demand. “Put your money where your mouth is!”

Mickey backs off. “Crazy bitch,” he mutters, before turning and slinking back to his buddies.

“Fuck you!” I call after him. I wrench away from Duke. “And fuck you, too,” I hiss at him.

I storm outside.

“Avery!”

I hear Duke call after me, but I don’t stop. There’s a patio out back with a few people drinking, so I head around the side of the building to where there’s a generator whirring loudly and a bunch of old beer crates strewn around.

“Avery, wait!” Duke catches up with me. “Calm down!”

“Why?” I swing around, furious. “Because you swooped in on your white horse to rescue me? I didn’t need saving!”

“No, he did.” Duke replies, infuriatingly calm. He folds his arms, glaring at me. “My money is on you in a fight, but I didn’t think you’d want the photos of you being led out of the bar in handcuffs!”

He’s right, of course. But that just makes me madder.

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