“You could if we were neighborly.”

Walker’s smirk was all cocky arrogance. “I’m offended that you don’t consider us friends.” He looked down at Ella again. “It’s too bad we’re not. Friends share. She seemed interested earlier. Didn’t you…Ella, is it?”

“I never told you my name.”

“Didn’t have to.”

All the men in the booth shifted. Ella shook her head. “I’m not interested. I never—” Damon lightly patted the outside of her thigh, and she stopped talking. He’d caught the slight edge of panic in her voice and needed her to sit tight while they handled it.

“Only a dickhead like you can’t tell the difference between when a woman’s interested and when she’s being nice. She’s been no more friendly to you than she’s been to every person who walked into this bar. It’s one of the reasons she’s so good at her job, which is why I’m guessing you’re here to begin with. She’s not going anywhere.” Damon leaned forward. “If you look at her or even think about her again?—"

“Let me guess. You’ll rearrange my face with your fists?” he asked in a mocking tone.

Damon slipped his hand around Ella’s waist, spreading his fingers wide and hoping like hell this was okay with her. “No.” He picked up his bourbon with his free hand, taking a small sip. “My hands are busy.”

Walker shifted his weight, annoyance firing in his eyes.

“But Ryker’s aren’t.”

That cocky smile fell as he looked over at Ryker, recognizing the severity of the threat.

Ryker sat forward, his slow smile as lethal as drawing a gun. “Oh, it would be my absolute pleasure.”

Ella laid her hand over Damon’s, interlacing her fingers with his and giving them a small squeeze.

Walker cleared his throat, his attitude a little more subdued. A physical altercation wouldn’t faze a man like him. But no one could withstand Ryker’s cyber attacks. Walker returned his attention to Ella. “When you get tired of this poor excuse of a man, I’ll still be waiting down at Midnights. And you will get tired of him, I promise you. We have more in common than you might think.”

“Your trip here was a waste. I’m not going anywhere,” Ella shot back in that tone she’d used with Damon earlier, like once she’d said it, there was no more discussion. Her words were final.

“Now, you can leave on your own or I can help you out,” Slater announced.

“See, I come in here, a regular, nice guy, and now you’re threatening to kick me out. No wonder your business is going to hell.” He looked at each man before ending with Ella. “Have a good night, beautiful.” He turned around and left the bar with his cocky swagger still annoying as shit.

Once he’d disappeared out the door, Ella collapsed against Damon’s chest. “I’m sorry, Damon. I had no idea he would be like that. I wasn’t flirting, I promise. I didn’t know who he was.”

“I know.” He rubbed the outside of her thigh, the fishnet tights an annoying barrier between him and her skin. “You’re a beautiful woman. That’s the attraction. Remember what I told you.”

She nodded, seeming not to be in a rush to move from his lap.

“Avoid Walker,” Slater said. “He has a nasty background related to weapons and gun charges. Owns his bar through a shell corporation to get around the red tape. He’s always been a pain in the ass. Called the health inspector on us five times when we first opened. Put in anonymous tips to the IRS to try to get us shut down for tax evasion. Complained to the state to get our liquor license revoked. He hates the competition.”

“We can be a pain in his ass. Just release me.” Ryker grinned and threw back the rest of his beer. “You know I enjoy screwing over people like him over for fun.”

“What would you do?” Ella leaned her elbows on the table and focused on Ryker, her bottom pressing firmer against Damon’s lap.

“I have a few options at my disposal. I could gather information to hand over the police to have him arrested. But that’s boring. I’d much rather get into his systems and screw around with him mentally. Like filing correct tax returns and paying all his back taxes.”

“Oh my god! I love it. So can you access people’s bank accounts?”

“Yes. I generally don’t, but I can.”

As Ryker explained a few other options for messing with Walker, Damon held on to Ella’s hips and shared a look with Slater, who lifted his eyebrows. “You better do something, brother,” he murmured. “Not many good things fall into your lap like this.”

He stroked back and forth on her thigh, over the ridges of the fishnet tights. “I don’t want to make a misstep.”

Slater tipped his head toward Damon. “I’m as by the book as they come,” he said, keeping his voice low, “and I’d do something with these signals.”

God, it was tempting. Damon patted her hip and did what was best and not what he wanted. “Go to work, Ella. Lacy is slammed up there. Ryker can give you all his tricks later.”