Page 6 of When the Storm Breaks
My eyes flitted over her face, partially hidden by the ball cap pulled down low over her forehead. I caught a glint of silver from the thin hoop piercing her left nostril. Her lips were full, naturally pink, stormy eyes fringed by thick black lashes, her cheekbones high and sharp. No two ways around it, she was beautiful. But she had an edge to her.
I took a step back and raked my hand through my hair. Averting my gaze, I sucked in a deep breath of muggy air. This couldn’t be good.
“Vivienne Shaw,” she said, finally answering a question I’d forgotten I asked, in that same throaty voice from the phone. Sexy. Gravelly. It reached deep inside and rattled my bones. Not what you’d expect to hear coming out of this girl’s mouth. She was all of five foot three or four and underneath the baggy sweatshirt I suspected she was small and thin. She was young, early twenties if I had to guess, but her eyes looked older. Like they’d seen the world and it hadn’t always done right by her.
“Hey, wait!” a guy shouted. “Can you give me a smile?” She looked over her shoulder as the flash from his camera went off.
What the hell?
“We need to go.” She jostled my arm, and that spurred me into action.
I opened the passenger door of my truck and quickly ushered her inside like I really was a chauffeur. Or a gentleman. Not that anyone had ever accused me of that before.
Once she was safely inside, I stowed her bag and guitar case in the back and slammed the door, turning to face the guy who was right in my face now. I blocked his view of the girl with my body and widened my stance, crossing my arms over my chest. Motherfucker would have to get through me first. Good luck with that.
“Take another step closer and I’ll smash your camera on the sidewalk then break your fucking hand for good measure.”
Dickwad held up his hands like he was innocent but the smirk on his face suggested otherwise. I glared at him. I had half a mind to smash his camera anyway just for that stupid smirk. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll back off. Right. The. Fuck. Now.”
“What are you, her bodyguard? New boyfriend? What’s your name?”
“I’m about to become your worst fucking nightmare if you don’t do as I say.” I hadn’t lifted a finger to touch him. Not looking for an assault charge tonight. But I stared him down until his confidence faltered. I could kick his ass from here to Sunday and the little weasel in his skinny jeans damn well knew it.
“Jesus, man. calm down. I just want a photo."
“You’re not getting jack shit.”
“Get in the truck,” she hissed, tugging on the hem of my T-shirt through the open window. “Let’s go.”
The guy was still there so I didn’t budge. I bared my teeth and growled like a wild animal until he finally scurried away. I waited until he was gone before I left her side and climbed into the truck then hit the gas and pulled away from the curb.
“Did you know that guy?” I asked when we got onto the 290, headed west.
“No.”
“Why was he trying to take your photo?” I side-eyed her. “Was he hassling you?”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. No big deal. But if you’d smashed his camera, it would have turned into a big deal.”
“Did you want him taking your photo?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go. What else was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to get in the truck and get us out of there.”
“Duly noted. Next time I see a pervert taking photos of a girl he doesn’t know, a girl who clearly doesn’t want her photo taken, I’ll just walk away and leave her to deal with it on her own.”
“You wouldn’t do that though, would you?”
“If it’s someone other than you, hell no. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”
She laughed. “Good to know. Look, I’m sorry I gave you a hard time. I’m not usually such a diva.” She sighed. “I was tired and irritable.”
Her apology sounded sincere. “Sorry I was late. There was an accident.”
“Was anyone hurt?” She sounded as if she really cared.
