Page 173 of Giddy Up, Daddy

Wyatt matched my sigh, sounding as frustrated as I felt. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s getting a little too handsy for my taste. I’m not drunk, but I’m not sober either.”

“Where are you?”

“The Bad Cherry.”

“Why the hell did you go there? Never mind. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Wyatt, you don’t… you don’t have to come if you’re busy or something.”

“Sit tight, Kennedy. Try to behave yourself.”

“Easier said than done.” I ended the call so I wouldn’t further embarrass myself. After ten minutes of splashing water on my face and fluffing my hair, I returned to the bar to take care of my tab. The bartender, an older woman named Michelle, held up a finger to let me know she saw me but was busy.

Leon waggled his eyebrows as he stared at my tits. “I handled it, sweetcheeks.”

“You what?”

“I paid your tab,” he said, slurring his words.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Now we can get out of here, darling.” Leon looped an arm around my shoulders and sidled closer. He reeked of cheap beer and cheaper cologne.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with you if you were the last man on the planet,” I said in a tone that belied more sweetness than I felt.

Glancing over Leon’s broad shoulders, I saw Wyatt strutting in the door. Thank goodness he had good timing. His demeanor seemed surprisingly calm though I hadn’t given him much information to go on. Something about the way his jeans pulled on his thighs, and the way his jaw clenched and relaxed drew heat to my face. He shot me a knowing look, then tapped Leon on the shoulder.

“Leon Collier,” he said casually, but his eyes were blazing with heat.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. Wyatt Cassidy. How’s life been treating you, man?”

“Just dandy. Care to get your hands off my girl?”

Leon bristled.Shit. That wasn’t a good sign. He narrowed his eyes and nuzzled my neck possessively. “I saw her first. Get in line, cowboy.”

Wyatt shoved Leon’s hand off my shoulder. “I asked politely. I won’t do it again.”

“Kennedy is coming home with me.”

“The hell she is.”

Leon stood up. He was several inches taller than Wyatt but out of shape. His brawn had nothing to back it up. “You don’t want to get me angry, cowboy. I bought this bitch a whole night’s worth of alcohol. Find someone else.”

Wyatt clenched and released his jaw. “Apologize to Kennedy and I’ll forget you called my girl a disgusting name.”

“I don’t answer to you, Wyatt. Besides, she’s been eyeing my dick all night,” Leon gloated, as if he’d somehow won my attention.

“Fucking liar,” I spat.

Wyatt tucked me against his left side, shuffling us toward the exit. “Sounds like she didn’t see much.” He tossed the insult over his shoulder as we walked away.

“You sonofabitch.” Leon grabbed Wyatt’s right shoulder, spinning him around to face him. My weight and the unexpected movement caught both of us off balance. Instead of handling the situation like a gentleman, which he wasn’t, Leon cocked his fist and swung. His hand connected to Wyatt’s face with a solid punch. It had escalated for no reason. But inebriated jerks didn’t always make good decisions.

Michelle intervened quickly, yelling over the din, “None of that shit in my bar, Leon! I’ll call the police. You’ll be banned faster than you can raise that hand of yours again.”

Scowling, I stepped in between the two men. It wasn’t the smartest move but I hoped Leon wasn’t stupid enough to hit me. He glared, but didn’t swing again.

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