Page 21 of Secret Twins for My Ex's SEAL Best Friend

He stood a good foot above me, and I could see the men calculating how tall he was from their seats.

Apparently deciding he was too tall to fight, the man who had harassed me scoffed and reached into his billfold to pull out a twenty dollar bill. He crumpled it up and tossed it onto my tray, smirking at Robert.

Robert closed his eyes and grimaced, and I felt the air charge with masculinity, the kind that scared me.

He opened his eyes and pushed past me, his hand delicately cupping my waist to scoot me out of harm’s way.

He leaned close to the man’s face and murmured, “Please, take that off her tray and give her a real tip before I feed that bill to you.”

The guy looked around at his group of friends, who avoided eye contact, suddenly extremely interested in what was in the bottom of their glasses.

The guy looked from Robert to me, and then asked, “This your boyfriend?”

Robert didn’t give me any time to respond. He grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him up to his feet before hissing, “I’ll makeyoumy boyfriend in a second if you don’t do what I say.”

“I – fine!” The guy’s forehead was gleaming with sweat, and he burned his suit with his cigar in the process of reaching for his billfold.

“You made me fuck up my suit!” he accused.

Robert reached into the man’s pocket for him and set the billfold onto my tray, not letting go of the guy with his other hand.

“Delia, get whatever tip you think is right out of there,” he said, his eyes locked with the man.

“You fucked up your own suit being a fucking creep. Wait while she decides.”

My mouth was dry. I could feel the eyes of the men in the friend group on me, and my chest was tight with the anxiety of it all. But slowly, I set the tray down on the table and reached for the leather billfold. It was engraved ‘To my love – money means nothing when I have you.’ I smirked at it, thinking of whatever woman thought he was the man of her dreams, and took out two hundred-dollar bills. Next time, I hoped, he’d know how to behave.

“Hey, what the fuck!” the guy exclaimed, and Robert jostled him by the collar, setting him down into his chair.

“I promise you that’s a lot cheaper than the hospital bill would be if you even look at her again tonight,” Robert told him, pushing the guy’s legs out of the way to move toward me.

He picked up the tray and took the billfold from me. He threw it back at the man’s chest and handed me my tray. “Come on.”

“What was that?” I whispered, as we walked away from the man. I scanned the rest of the bar for empty drinks, looking for someone to help.

Anything to avoid looking at Robert. What he had done had been reckless and possessive.

And it had turned me on more than anything I’d ever had a man do for me.

“You work here?”

“No, I just dress up as an employee and scam people out of cash,” I told him sarcastically, walking over to a table that was signaling me.

A man with a woman next to him said, “Another bourbon and coke please.” I nodded and took his empty glass.

I glanced at Robert and saw the pained expression on his face. He didn’t like my joke.

“What are you thinking, working at a place like this?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, making my way back toward the bar with the empty glass.

I could take a few more orders, but Robert was distracting me, confusing me. His presence was intoxicating and strange. I felt like I was in a dream, seeing him here.

“I mean, this is…this is degrading, Delia. And dangerous. What are you doing here? Why do you work here? And why are you dressed like… that?” He made a gesture with his hand, directed at my outfit, and looked genuinely at a loss. And a little bit disgusted.

His disgust cut through me. I was shocked by how much I cared what he thought of me. And I was taken aback by his opinion.

This was a sought-after position. I made a lot of money, and I didn’t do much. This wasn’t exactly the kind of job people thought of when they thought of dangerous and degrading jobs.

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