Page 107 of On The Rocks

“Beer or cider, Tris?” Donovan shouted over.

“Cider, please, Don Juan,” he replied, eyeing me and Maeve with a small grin while he strutted toward the bar. “Helping true love run its course is thirsty work.”

Donovan barked a laugh.

Tris took a sip, whimpered, and immediately handed his credit card over. “You’d better keep that and start me a tab. I think I’ll be getting a little giddy tonight. This cider’s the absolute shit.”

“We just said that about the beer,” Carbine called from the stage. His eyes caught on my wife, and his entire face softened. “You look real pretty, Maeve.”

Her cheeks went pink. “Thank you. All you boys look handsome, too.”

Carbine shot her a dazzling grin and stared at her while Blue also eyed her with obvious interest.

I cleared my throat pointedly.

I knew it was irrational, but I hated it when other men looked at my wife that way.

Carbine’s interest was clear. It had pissed me off since the day she’d gotten back from New York, and he’d helped her home with her luggage. Now, he stood in my bar—hell, he stood in my face—trying to flirt with her, and to add insult to injury, his slutty bandmate kept throwing her interested glances too.

Maeve would never do anything to hurt or betray me; I knew that, but something inside, something dark and demonic, clawed at my gut. It was the same destructive feeling I got when Deputy Dumbass touched her at the Kings of Anarchy clubhouse.

The compulsion to stomp over there, pick up a guitar, and smash it across Carbine’s and Blue’s skulls gripped me so violently that I had to consciously keep my feet planted where they were to keep my shit together. My fingers twitched with the need to punch something, and I had to breathe slow and deep to stop my nostrils from flaring like the proverbial bull who’d had a red rag waved in his face.

Sliding an arm across Maeve’s shoulders, I maneuvered her toward the bar where Tristan chatted with Donovan.

They both glanced at me before their eyes slid to meet each other’s.

“What?” I demanded.

“Ignore him,” Donovan ordered, going to the fridges and grabbing a bottle for me and Maeve.

“He’s taking it too far,” I retorted, waiting for Donovan to pop the top before grabbing it and taking a pull.

“Who’s taking it too far?” Maeve asked curiously, accepting her drink from Donny and sipping it daintily.

“Carbine’s setting him off,” Tristan advised her.

Maeve looked confused. “Huh?”

“The green-eyed monster,” Tris explained knowingly.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Bullshit. I’m not the jealous type.”

Donny laughed. “You’re jealous as all hell.”

“I’m not jealous,” I repeated. “I just don’t like the way they’re ogling my wife.”

“Did they ogle me?” Maeve asked, peering over at the stage. “I can only see things close up with these contact lenses. They’re from an old prescription.”

“You stick close to me tonight, wife,” I told her. “After the last shitshow, I don’t want any chancers thinking they can take liberties with you.”

Donovan jerked a thumb at me. “This is the most entertaining shit I’ve seen for years.”

Tristan laughed just as somebody hammered on the door.

Untangling myself from my wife, I glanced at the door to see Tadhg standing outside with a group of people. “Baby bro’s here,” I announced, taking off across the room to let him in. “Who’s that with him?”

“It’s probably Aislynn,” Maeve called after me. “She said T was picking her up from your mam’s on the way here.”

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