Page 16 of Ruger's Rage

Backroads Bar & Grill isn't just open in the late afternoon or evening—we serve breakfast and lunch here as well.

I can't stop thinking about last night—about him.

Ruger.

The way he moved when that drunk grabbed for me—like violence was as natural as breathing.

One second he was across the room, the next he had the man's wrist in a death grip.

I've seen that look before.

The complete certainty of a man used to getting his way through force.

But then he looked at me, and something shifted in those dark eyes.

Concern, maybe. Or was it possessiveness? Regardless, it terrifies me.

Ellie's voice makes me jump. "Starting early again?"

"Needed to catch up on inventory," I lie, keeping my back to her as I wipe down bottles.

"Mmm-hmm." Her knowing tone suggests she doesn't buy it. "Want to talk about last night?"

Yes. No. Maybe.

"Nothing to talk about," I say instead.

She settles onto a stool with a sigh.

I can feel her studying me, that sharp gaze that misses nothing.

After six months working together, I should be used to it.

But some mornings—especially mornings after my past threatens to collide with my present—her maternal intuition suffocates me.

"You know," she says carefully, "my nephew takes some getting used to."

I bark out a laugh. "Your nephew is dangerous."

"He can be." She doesn't deny it. "But not to people he cares about."

The words send something skittering through my stomach. "He doesn't know me, so I doubt he cares."

"Maybe not yet."

The conversation feels loaded with unsaid words I'm not ready to even think about.

I focus on rearranging liquor bottles that don't need rearranging.

"You remind me of myself," Ellie continues. "When I first came to Morgantown. Guarded. Ice Queen sort of vibes."

I freeze. We've never talked about why she—or I—ended up here.

"What happened to you?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"Same thing that happened to you, I'd wager." Her voice is soft but steady. "Man who couldn't handle being told no."

My throat constricts. "I don't?—"

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