Page 19 of The Harborer
Talk about some big brass ones! “And you expect me to give up my seat just because you want it?”
“Yeah. I mean, let’s be real. Shouldn’t you be washing dishes instead of taking up a barstool intended for paying customers?”
Indignation sizzled like a bolt of electricity in her veins. “Excuse me? What makes you think I’mnota paying customer? Andlet’s be real,” she snarled, “what gives you the right to demand any seat you want?”
He pointed at her face and gave her an ugly sneer. “Maybe it’s time you went back to Mexico.”
Momentarily stunned, her thoughts scattered, and she couldn’t articulate … anything. Her mind was blank. As outrage crystallized into a string of incoherent sentences, she opened her mouth to let this asshole have both barrels, but nothing came out. He laughed. And that’s when a big hand descended on his shoulder and yanked him around. “Maybe it’s time you left.Afteryou apologize to the lady.”
Chapter 8
Tropes
Amy’s fury fizzled atthe sight of Shane O’Brien’s firm hand on Rude Jerk’s shoulder. She hadn’t realized he’d broken formation and raced over. She could have stuck up for herself, given enough time, thank you very much, but she couldn’t deny the thrill zipping through her body at Shane doing the sticking up for her. At six-three, with squared-off shoulders, he could stare this idiot down without breaking a sweat. And even though he wasn’t wearing his badge, he didn’t need it. An aura of don’t-mess-with-me rolled off him in waves, making the entire package one big tower of intimidation that gave her tummy forbidden flutters.
Rude Jerk was apparently too stupid to get the message, though, and his mouth thinned into a defiant slash. “Says who?”
Now Noah leaned onto the bar. When hadheappeared? “Says the owner of this establishment. Tell the lady you’re sorry,and then you can leave. The exit’s that way.” Noah pointed in the general direction of the front door.
The whole place had grown quiet—except for Micky, who was cluelessly yammering in the background about his empty beer glass and the “poor service around here.” Amy vibrated with an overwhelming urge to slap him. It probably wouldn’t wake him up, though.
Rude Jerk gave Shane’s hand—still locked on his shoulder—a disdainful glance. “This is assault. I’m calling the cops.”
One corner of Shane’s mouth curled up, and challenge glinted in his brown eyes. “Iamthe cops. Care to see the inside of my jail? I can arrange a personal tour.” His grip tightened.
Amy’s jaw swung open. She hadn’t seen Shane in full-on deputy mode too many times because the opportunity usually never presented itself. If he had to confront anyone while wearing his deputy’s hat, usually that person was giving him lip because they were falling-down drunk or they were complaining about a neighbor’s pet. In those cases, his approach was more of a drawling “aw shucks” that disarmed folks and brought any escalation to a grinding halt. Shane was one of the calmest people she knew. This time, though,heseemed to be the one escalating. The wrath blazing in his eyes was unmistakable. And dear Gaia, it was also really, really hot. Not hot in the I’m-pissed-off kind of way—which he was—but … sexy-hot.
She gave herself a mental slap for the inappropriate thought.
Rude Jerk looked around at the faces surrounding him. From behind Shane, the dude’s friend shouted, “Mark! Don’t be stupid. Say you’re sorry, and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Without releasing Mark, Shane swiveled his head slowly toward the sidekick. “Glad to see one of you has a working brain.” He turned back to Mark with the same deliberateness. “You’d be wise to follow your friend’s advice.”
Mark swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple rode up and down his leathery neck like an elevator car. “Uh, sorry.”
“Look at her, not at the floor,” Shane growled.
Mark raised narrowed, dead-as-coal eyes to Amy, making her squirm inside. She wasn’t sure she wanted an apology from this creep if it meant looking at him. She pushed her shoulders back anyway, hiding the fact her belly was currently hosting a swarm of slithering snakes. “I’m sorry.” His tone was pure venom without a hint of apology in it.
Shane gave his shoulder a hard shake. “There. Now was that so hard? I’m sure Councilwoman Caufield appreciates the apology.”
Mark’s eyes widened, then slanted with a grimace, and Shane stepped back, only to be replaced by Dixie crooking a finger at the ill-mannered jackass and his buddy. “Right this way, fellas.”
The entire tavern watched the two men slink out the front door … everyone except Micky, who looked around with a baffled expression. “What just happened? What’d I miss?”
Reining in her fangirl, Amy looked up at Shane. The only words she could get out were, “I can’t believe you invoked the councilwoman thing.”
A sly grin spread over Shane’s clean-shaven face. “Worked, didn’t it? People are usually reluctant to cross elected officials.”
“Appointed,” she corrected and immediately felt foolish. “Um, I think it had more to do with the six-inch difference between you two. Would you really have arrested him?”
“Nah. Didn’t have any reason to, buthedidn’t know that.”
“Well, I, uh … Thank you.”
He touched two fingers to his forehead in a mini-salute. “Pleasure.” He opened his mouth to add something but was assailed by Estelle claiming his arm and walking her fingers up it like it was a ramp.
“Ooh, Sheriff,” she cooed, “that was masterful.”
