Page 46 of Daring the Defender

I’m not convinced.

By now Mike has rushed out from behind the bar. “Everything okay out here?” he asks, eyeing the two frat boys,who look at me, like they’re not going to speak until I give them permission.

I cross my arms over my chest, a move I’m well aware makes me look terrifying. “I think we’re good.”

“Shelby?” he asks.

“I said I’m fine. It was just an accident.”

“Totally an accident,” dickhead promises. “We’re really sorry.”

“I know.” She holds her dirty hands up. “I think I need to go wash off.”

Mike nods and then adds, “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off.”

Her jaw drops. “Am I fired?”

“Hell no,” he says quickly. “It’s a slow night and you need to go get cleaned up. Josie can cover it.” When she agrees, he adds, “You want me to call Axel?”

“I’ll get her home,” I announce. “She’s staying at the Manor anyway.”

“Don’t bother Axel,” she says, giving me a knowing look. Ax would flip if he found out about any of this, including the fact that I’m here. “I can go with Reid.”

“Good,” Mike starts back to the bar. “Come in tomorrow at four. It’s a game night so we’ll be busy.”

“I’ll be here,” she says, unable to fight a grin. “Thanks for giving me this opportunity.”

“You’re doing great,” Josie tells her. “And don’t worry, I’ll split whatever tips those dumbasses leave.”

Once we’re alone, I say, “Grab your stuff and I’ll meet you at the door.”

Retrieving my coat at the table, I head to the front door and wait. A few minutes later she meets me, a takeout container in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Dave made you a fresh order of wings.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do after you stepped in like that with those guys.”

I grunt in response, but notice she’s still not wearing a coat. It’s late February, night and cold as fuck outside. I hold mine out.

“I can’t take that.”

“Of course you can. It’s cold as a witch’s tit out there.”

Her cheeks turn pink and I almost say the word again, just to see the flush.

“GG, take the damn coat.” I’m not only hot, wanting to go back and punch that dickhead in the face, but my skin is on fire because I want to check her out, head to toe, and make sure she’s okay.

She relents, and doesn’t fight me when I drape it over her shoulders.

We step outside, into the arctic air, and she nuzzles into the jacket. “We have to walk,” I tell her, shoving my hands in my jeans pockets.

“I guess I can add something to my list of new things,” she says as we cross the street.

“The job?”

She glances over at me. “Having a guy defend me from frat boys.”

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