Page 12 of Between Two Thorns

Rose’s gape was wiped off her face the instant she tried to put weight on her trampled foot. Pain splintered up her ankle all the way to her knee, making her gasp and stumble. But his strong arms were there to keep her upright.

Yes, she’d lived with and ridden horses her entire freaking life.

No, she had never broken a bone in her freaking life.

“You alrigh’ or not?” He demanded again, and though Rose knew the words were meant to be annoyed, but his voice—it was low like gravel on a dirt road—in the best possible way.

Which didn’t mark logical sense, but was exactly how she felt hearing him speak.

“Uh,” Rose fumbled, thoughts knocked out of her head like his low voice somehow filled her ears over the murmuring of the surrounding crowd.

She tried her foot again, like an idiot. And got the same result. Like a bigger idiot. She hissed out in pain, stumbling into her rescuer. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her upright. Like she weighed nothing at all.

And as she tried not to look too obvious about leaning into his chest. He smelled like cigarettes.

“Well, I’m better now.” She couldn’t help herself.

Mr. Strong and Silent made an unamused expression. But Rose swore she saw a bit of humor in the way he rolled his eyes.

“Back off, Dealer Delcan.” Chad had returned to her field of vision to spit his retort. This time, two equally beefy and equally stupid looking companions flanked him, one of whom was chugging a full beer. Like he was about to watch some sort of damn sporting event.

“It’s Del.”

Rose felt his arm tensing right through his tight cotton shirt; he was squaring up for a fight against the douchebag brigade.

“Hands off, asshole.”Chad flexed his stupid pecs—laughably unmenacing. “I saw her first.”

“I am not some sack of potatoes you can grope and toss over your shoulder.”

“C’mon now, girlie,” Chad ducked his head to taunt, his wing men chuckling like he’d actually said something clever. “We were just working up a sweat.”

Rose bristled, unable to hold her barbed tongue as she stepped towards Chad. “If that’s how you get a girl worked up, your dick’s gonna stay as dry as the Sonoran Desert.”

There was just enough time for the very mature and utterly called for group “OOOOooo!”

When Chad reached behind him and grabbed his friend’s half-drunk pint.

“I’ll show you wet, bitch.”

He upturned the beer over Rose’s head, ruining her curls, soaking her pink tank top to cling revealingly to her bralette, and making her shriek with the cold. And the indignation.

Before the rest of the scene unfolded so fast, she could barely keep up.

Del’s arm suddenly tightened around her middle like a vise. Rose’s feet were off the wooden floor as he lifted and turned her in one fluid motion, hauling her away from Chad and his crew. And his free fist swung to clock Rose’s assailant right in his shit-eating face.

That wall of bodies reacted again. Gasping as one. Hands covering mouths. Stunned silence before a burst of tumultuous noise.

Del carried Rose away from the dance floor.

***

“That was totally fucking awesome!” Rose couldn’t help but cheer, her enthusiasm making her wriggle around in Del’s hold.

He was still bodily hauling her from the fight on the dance floor, where someone had thrown an elbow and hit someone’s girlfriend, causing a domino of idiots threatening to sucker punch each other.

Del took most of her weight on his arm and against his side, like it was easy to carry her right out the door.

Now was not the time to find this feat of strength so incredibly attractive.

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