Page 53 of Protected By the Mountain Man

I could see the storm clouds gathering in Kat's eyes. I reached over, my hand finding her knee under the bar, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was instinct, wanting to ground her, to remind her she wasn't alone in this.

Her gaze snapped to mine, all wildfire and brimstone. For a second, I saw vulnerability there before she bit down on her lip, hard enough to leave a mark. My eyes couldn't help but follow the movement, lingering on that full lower lip…then flickering to the pink tip of her tongue as it darted out, soothing the spot.

“Hey,” I said softly. “Let's dance.”

She looked at me, hesitation warring with the desire to forget, even if only for a song or two.

“Are you sure?”

“Damn sure. We're here to take a break from all that crap, not to dig ourselves deeper into it.” My thumb brushed against her denim-clad leg, a simple touch meant to reassure.

She smiled, soft and subtle. “Okay.”

I stood and offered my hand, leading her out to the dance floor. The band was good tonight, playing a mix of country hits and old classics that had the crowd moving and singing along. We found our rhythm easily, two bodies swaying in time with the music.

The drinks kept coming, and I could tell Kat was letting loose, a flush coloring her cheeks as she got tipsy. She laughed more, loud over the din of the crowd—a sound that did something funny to my chest.

When a slow song came on, she moved closer, her body fitting against mine like she was made for this—made for me. Her head rested just below my chin, and I couldn't help but breathe her in, the scent of her shampoo mixing with the smoky air of the Spur. My arms tightened around her, and it took all my willpower not to pull her even closer, to keep it decent when all I wanted was to tangle my fingers in her hair and kiss her senseless.

But I could tell she was tipsy…and I wasn’t that guy.

So as the song ended and I pulled her up from a dip, I asked, “Need some water?”

She blushed…then nodded. “I’m drunk, aren’t I?”

I smirked. “Just a little—let me grab that for you.”

I reluctantly peeled myself away and headed toward the bar, my skin cooling without her there. Clay was watching us with a sly smile, chuckling when I got close. “Getting hot and heavy out there, huh?”

I went to the water cooler and grabbed a plastic cup, filling it up. Condensation gathered on the plastic, dripping over my knuckles.

“Maybe,” I admitted, cracking a smile. “Might call it an early night.”

“Looks like you're not the only one interested though,” he said, nodding toward the dance floor. “Some guy is talking to your woman.”

I glanced over, expecting to see Kat brushing off some harmless flirtation. Instead, there was this guy leaning in too close for comfort, his hand resting a bit too low on her back.

My jaw tightened.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, not from this distance, but I could tell it wasn’t friendly. Kat gave him a polite smile, then the smile dropped. His hand didn’t leave her back, though, sliding toward her ass?—

“Back off!” she said, loud enough now that we could all hear it.

A few heads turned, and I saw her slap his hand away—hard. That should’ve been his cue to leave.

It wasn’t.

The dance floor seemed to pause for a beat before people shuffled aside, giving them space as if they were watching some twisted spectacle unfold. Maybe they just hadn’t had time to react yet…maybe they were cowards. But all of that ceased to matter when I saw him grab her wrist.

And something inside me snapped.

The plastic cup in my hand crumpled like it was nothing. Water spilled over my fingers, splashing onto the dusty wooden floor.

“Excuse me,” I muttered to Clay. I think he tried to stop me, but there was no fucking stopping me now. I’d been here before…knew the path forward.

I’d almost beaten a man to death at the Silver Spur a long, long time ago.

And tonight, maybe I would do it again.

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