Page 11 of Hold On Through The Pain

“Sure. Have you ever been?”

“No—well, I was there last night, or close. I went to a different club first, and it was a dud.”

“A dud?”

He rolled his eyes. “The people were a little too uppity for my taste. I’m a little bit more of a fun-loving type of guy. I’m not into being perfect.”

Her eyes flicked over him, and she lifted her eyebrows. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

His lips turned up, and he glanced away. The waitress was back, along with her sass directed at Striker. When she stepped away, Shannon rolled her eyes.

“She doesn’t like you,” Shannon said.

Striker’s lips curled up on one side, but his eyes were sad. “Could have something to do with this.” His thumb grazed her cheek under her eye. She flinched, and he cringed. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

The waitress had snuck up on them and slammed down the silverware. “Should have known it would hurt when you hit her, ya cocky bastard.”

Shannon gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth; then she waved her hands around. “No, it wasn’t him. He’s the one who saved me.” She’d honestly forgot about the black eye and her lip. People must really be thinking Striker had hit her since he was injured too.

The waitress narrowed her gaze and looked from Striker to her. Her mouth stayed in a flat line. “Are you sure?”

“He helped me escape the bar, but he was injured in a fight with the guy who hit me. Well, actually the jerk and two of his friends started a fight.” Shannon glanced to Striker, sadness mixing with gratitude. “He saved me. He’s a good guy.”

The waitress’s gaze went from her to Striker, then back. “So he’s not the one who hit you.”

Striker shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’d never hit a woman.”

Her lips pursed, and Shannon didn’t know if the woman believed what Striker had said or not. He looked rugged and maybe a little menacing. When she’d first laid eyes on him, she’d been afraid. Then he’d stood up for her, challenging the whole bar.

She picked up her fork, smoothing her thumb over the metal. It was hard to think about all the bad dates she’d had, and here was this guy who hadn’t even tried to have sex with her, and yet he was the one being grilled.

“He really did save me,” Shannon insisted. “I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t.”

The waitress gave her a tight smile before she turned fast and headed to the kitchen. Shannon’s gaze slid to Striker as worry filled her. What if he got angry?

“What’s that look for?” His voice was deep, and she shivered.

She picked up her fork again. “Nothing.”

“No, babe, tell me.”

“You’re taking the heat, and those women think you’re the evil jerk who hurt me.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb sliding over her lips. His eyes softened, and a smile tugged at his mouth. “I can take it because I didn’t do anything wrong. If I had, then I’d be worried, but I’m not, because I didn’t hurt you. As long as you know how I feel about you, that’s what matters most.”

The food arrived a moment later, cutting their conversation short. How did he feel? Her emotions had bubbled up and were nearly undefinable. There was something about him she couldn’t put into words.

Her eggs were delicious, and it appeared Striker liked his food. She shook her head as she watched him demolish two biscuits and sausage along with his eggs and pancakes.

“What?” he asked.

“You eat a lot.”

“Gotta to maintain my muscle mass. I skip a few meals, and I’m not as strong. It makes a difference.”

Her gaze flicked to his shoulders. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think you were that big.”

He winked as his lips spread in a sexy smile. “How big did you think I was?”

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