Page 20 of Riding Dirty for Christmas

Got word from Pete over at The Thirsty Moose in the next town that he'd been banned for hassling their new waitress. We bar owners keep tabs on guys like this - small towns, long memories.

His face is red, broadcasting the same attitude that got him tossed from three bars in the county this month alone.

“Your boy here says I gotta leave,” Dean says, tipping his head toward the bouncer.

“He's right.” My voice stays level, but I feel Eden move closer behind me. Every muscle in my body coils tighter. “Time to call it a night.”

“Fuck that.” He sways, jabbing the pool cue toward John. “I paid for my drinks.”

“And now you're done.” I step forward, keeping my movements controlled. “I'll call you a cab.”

“Who the hell does this guy think he is?” He turns to his buddy, another trucker who's trying to fade into the background. Smart man.

“He owns the place,” Eden says, her voice sharp and clear. “And I suggest you listen to him.”

“Well, look what we got here. Fresh meat behind the bar.”

When Dean’s bleary eyes fix on her, something primitive roars to life in my chest.

I move before I think, closing the distance between us. The pool cue clatters to the floor as I grip his collar. “Outside. Now.”

“Jack.” Eden's hand lands on my arm, but I can barely feel it through the red haze. “He's not worth it.”

Dean laughs, ugly and mean. “Better listen to your pretty bartender. Wouldn't want to start something you can't finish.”

My grip tightens on his collar. The bar goes quiet except for the jukebox playing some old country song.

“Come on, man.” His buddy tugs at Dean’s sleeve. “Route's long tomorrow.”

Dean shrugs him off, his glazed eyes fixed on Eden. “Maybe I'll stick around. Get to know the new help better.” He reaches for her face. “What do you say, sweetheart?—”

I don't let him finish. One smooth movement and I've got him pressed against the wall, my forearm across his chest. “Walk out that door or I call the sheriff. The HideOut's not your kind of place.”

John escorts them out while I turn to Eden. “You okay?”

“I'm fine.” She straightens her shirt, trying to look casual. “Nice to have backup though. Reminds me of that first night with Tommy.”

“Part of the job.” I shrug, but pride swells in my chest at her words. “You need to know how to throw a punch if you're gonna open a bar in a small town.”

“Yeah, I thought about it once.”

That catches me off guard. “What, opening a bar?”

The HideOut could use someone with her skills, her eye for detail.

“Yeah, but it was too dangerous.” She rolls her eyes. “Decided fashion was a better option. Much safer in the city - you just getto swim with sharks and deal with people stabbing you in the back instead of glassing you in the face.”

I laugh, caught off guard by her dark humor. “Any regrets?”

Something flickers across her face - pain, maybe regret - but it's gone before I can read it.

She locks down her expression, and I know that whatever just crossed her mind, she won't be sharing it. Not yet. But she will.

The certainty of that hits me hard. Whatever walls she's built, whatever's hurting her - I'll find a way through.

She shrugs, but I catch her pleased smile.

The night slips away in a blur of orders and movement, Eden fitting into my routine like she's always been here.

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