Then she pulls her finger back, but instead of stepping away, she winds up and socks him right in the gut.
The Night Hawk crowd erupts in cheers as Derek groans and slumps in Tim and Jake’s grasp. Presley steps back, exuding the same confidence I witnessed earlier when she sat atop Big John. She glances at Jake with that same assurance.
“I think Derek needs a good night’s rest in a holding cell to sleep off all the alcohol he drank.”
Derek grunts.
“Oh, and Jake?” Presley taps her chin. “Isn’t the recreational use of weed illegal in Texas?”
I press my lips together as I try not to snort. My Lemon is savage, and that is sexy as hell.
“You’d be right, Ms. Presley.” Jake grins.
“You bitch!” Derek spits, struggling again.
“Alright, someone call the Sheriff so we can stop listening to this asshole,” Tim says, shaking Derek a bit.
“He’s already here,” somebody calls from near the door.
Jake chuckles. “Gotta love small towns, huh, asshole?”
At the mention of the Sheriff, Derek’s energy shifts, fear riddling his busted face. “Presley, come on! You’ll ruin my life,” he pleads, but she doesn’t react, only stands there with her lips pressed in a hard line.
Jake glances between Presley and I while he and Tim continue to hold Derek tighter.
“Why don’t you two get out of here for the night,” Jake says. “Stu, Dan, and I will manage. If we need more help, Tim can step in. Right, Tim?”
“At your service,” he nods.
Presley blinks, snapping out of whatever she’s thinking. “No, Jake. That’s not necessary.”
“It’s all good, Presley.”
“Presley!” Derek’s whiny voice cuts in.
“Oh, shut up,” Tim mimics in the same tone. “Let’s take him out to the Sheriff,” he directs at Jake.
Jake nods, turning his attention to the stage. “Start up the music, boys!” he yells to the band. Then he looks out at the crowd. “And let’s get those drinks flowing. It’s now officially power hour!”
The people in the bar cheer at the mention of cheap beer, and the place starts to liven up again as the fiddler plays. I turn to Presley, her focus on Jake and Tim as they drag a sulking Derek out of the bar.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking her hand.
Her blue eyes flutter up to meet mine. I stare into the depths of them, and my heart beats faster in my chest. God, she’s beautiful, so beautiful, and I hate that she doesn’t know it. That this asshole made her feel any less than perfect the way she is.
Presley’s gaze volleys to my lips then once again to my eyes. “Kade,” she breathes out, my name sounding like a prayer on her lips.
“What do you need, Lemon?” I ask, my head lowering of its own accord. The sounds of the bar and the lingering stares of those around us fade, and I feel like we’re the only ones on this dance floor.
The words she wants to say rest on the tip of her tongue—I can see it. I bring one of my fingers up to brush across the soft skin of her pink cheek before I press my thumb into the flesh of her lower lip. Her breath hitches, and I’m faintly aware that my knuckles are bloody from the punch I threw, but I couldn’t care less about my hand right now.
Presley blinks, sucking in a breath as if she’s gathering courage. When our eyes connect, I see a heat in them now, a raw desire I saw earlier when we flirted, when we were both thinking about what transpired between us last night.
“Lemon?” I ask again. This time, my tone is light and teasing as I drag my hand down the column of her throat, pressing my thumb against her fluttering pulse point. “What do you need, darlin’?”
My words are enough to finally shake her from her thoughts. Presley licks her lips then exhales, her warm breath skittering across my face. “I need you, Kade. Just you.”
I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, my soul soaking up her words like a sponge. What she said, the meaning of it—I don’t even know if I can grasp it right now. I only know I wanted to hear it,neededto hear it.