Page 4 of Under the Mistletoe

“Hey, Bentley.” She waved.

I grabbed my bar towel and flung it over my shoulder and walked over to where she was, leaning down on the bar.

“Noelle, everything okay, darling? What are you doing here?” I questioned, swallowing hard as I studied those beautiful cinnamon-coloured eyes of hers before my eyes wandered down to the ample cleavage she was showing off in that dress.

She shouldn’t be in here, I thought to myself, and she shouldn’t be wearing this outfit. If her father knew, he’d kill her. This dress was far too dangerous for someone as beautiful and sexy as she was.

If her father knew that the moment I laid eyes on her, I wanted to bend her over the closest flat surface, which would be the bar counter, and rail her until she screamed, he’d kill me. She was off-limits for me, and I knew it.

I shouldn’t be thinking of her like this, I thought as I studied those full, painted, pouty lips—lips I’d love to see wrapped around my cock while my fingers fisted that long brown hair.

I stopped, erasing those thoughts from my mind almost as quickly as they entered.

She gave me that gorgeous smile of hers and placed her hand on mine.

“I’d love a cola, and if you must know, I was at a Christmas party and on my way home when it started snowing. Then I got a flat tire. I wasn’t far, so I walked here.”

I frowned. She’d walked here from where, I wondered. It wasn’t as if this bar was in the best part of the neighbourhood. Anything could have happened to her on the way here.

I grabbed a glass and filled it with cola, setting it on a coaster in front of her. “You should have called me.”

“No need.” She smiled and took a sip.

“If anyone asks, you are twenty-one,” I added, knowing she was still underage.

She looked up at me with those gorgeous eyes. “I’ve been in here plenty of times with Dad. Besides, I can’t believe you’ve forgotten,” she said, bringing her hand to her chest. “I turned twenty-one a couple of days ago.” She reached into the small bag she carried and produced her ID, showing it to me.

How had I forgotten her birthday? I remembered everything else about her, and over the years I’d never forgotten her birthday. I felt like a complete heel. I’d been at every one of her birthdays. But this year it had completely slipped my mind.

“Happy Birthday, Noelle,” I said, bringing my glass of cola up against hers.

“Thanks.” She giggled.

I smiled, then grabbed a bottle of rum from the bar rail and poured a shot into her cola, then quickly gave it a stir. If she hada flat tire, I didn’t need to worry about her driving home. I’d take her myself or I’d call her a cab when she wanted to leave.

“What are you doing?” she questioned.

“On the house.” I winked. “I think I might have a piece of chocolate fudge cake left in the back as well.”

Her eyes brightened at the cake comment and she smiled, picked up her drink, and took a sip. “You’re too good to me,” she added, placing her hand on mine.

“Hey, Bentley, can we get another round?” a guy called out.

“Anything for the birthday girl.” I winked before making my way over to the other side of the bar, taking their order, and making the drinks. As I turned to grab the vodka, I noted a man who’d just come in and sat down beside Noelle. I did my best to concentrate on the task at hand instead of on the man sitting beside Noelle, and I was doing well, until I turned around to see he’d turned toward her and placed his hand on the back of her chair as he leaned into her. With one hand on her knee, he whispered something in her ear that made her cheeks flush.

A combination of jealousy and protectiveness surged through me and became so strong I stopped what I was doing and marched over to the opposite side of the bar where Noelle was sitting.

“Hey, buddy, how about you leave the lady alone?” I growled, looking him directly in the eyes.

I’m sure if looks could have killed, he’d have been dead. Instead, he just smirked at me and went right back to whispering in her ear. She looked uneasy and when she flinched and lifted those gorgeous eyes my way, begging me to help her, I knew it was very possible the guy was going to be in for a beating.

I slammed the two drinks I’d just made down on the bar and barked, “Give me a minute,” to the customer. Then I turned around and marched over to the other side of the bar.

I intimidated most people with my height and build, but this guy sat there cool as could be, his lips up against her ear, whispering what I was sure was nothing but filth.

I leaned down onto the bar, meeting her eyes only for a moment. “Hey, buddy! I thought I told you to leave the lady alone,” I growled, feeling very possessive of Noelle at this moment.

The guy looked at me and chuckled, which only aggravated me more.

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