Page 71 of Demitri

“With my life. I’d trust him to stand in front of a moving train for not only me, but every person sitting out there. Well, maybe not Daniel, but that’s a different story.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just worry about you.”

“I appreciate your worry but know that I am well aware of where he comes from, and it doesn’t matter to me.”

“You’ll call me if you need help?”

“No offense or anything, but if I’m in the way of bodily harm, I’m probably going to call one of those guys out there with the military background and training who know how to kill a man with their pinkies.”

“Alright.” he holds his hands up in defeat. “I earned that. But don’t forget that if you need me, I’m here.”

“Thanks, James. I appreciate it. We should get back before someone misses us,” I tell him.

“Too late for that,” Demitri says, coming up and pulling me to him then wrapping his arms around me. A clear, possessive move. Can’t say I’m mad about it. “Mr. Covey.”

James sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like an old man who’s tired of dealing with everyone’s shit. “It’s James. And if I was an ass earlier, I apologize.”

I feel Demitri’s grin on the side of my head, and I wait for his response.

“No worries, friend. But next time you want to grill my girl about me, you should go ahead and include me in the conversation.”

“You heard that?” I tilt my face to see him.

“We all heard it. Lesson one: Never have a ‘private’ conversation in Sandy’s in the hallway to the bathrooms because it’s nothing but an amplifier to the dining room.”

James has the good sense to look at least a little ashamed.

“Good. Then everyone out there will know that I take care of my family, and those women are my family.”

“Then we agree. We protect our family. But what we aren’t going to do? Judge anyone based on their past, their families, or what they’ve done to survive. Understand?” Demitri asks him, the pain in his voice at being judged evident.

James regards him for a minute before rewarding us with a small hitch of his lips. That’s about the only smile you get from the guy, ever, so it’s big. “Understood.”

“Good. So, how about we start over and realize we both want the same things?”

Demitri sticks out his hand and waits. James rolls his eyes before shaking hands.

“I’m John, but my friends call me Demitri.” It’s a challenge. We all know it.

“James. Nice to meet you, Demitri.”

“Kiss and make up so we can get out of here. I have a hot wife to go home to!” Joker gives us shit from the table, making everyone laugh—the girls—or groan—the guys.

“You heard the man. If we don’t get out there, he’s going to start talking about what he wants to do to his wife,” Grady hollers.

“Let’s go, boys.” I grin at them. “No need to make everyone else miserable while you’re deciding if your pissing match is over.”

Demitri chuckles, and James shakes his head. We all exit the hallway to cheers. Crisis averted, I guess.

We take care of the bill and bid a somewhat teary farewell to Sandy and George, who, in a rare occurrence, stands up from his perch at the bar to hug a number of us. When we walk outside, I’m stopped in my tracks by the most beautiful car I’ve ever seen.

“Is that a sixty-seven Shelby?” I ask, turning to Demitri.

“Yeah.” He almost looks embarrassed.

“You’ve had that beautiful girl and never told me?”

“I didn’t think about it?”

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