Page 42 of The Contractor's Rose
Because right now, all I felt was pure, unfiltered rage as I watched a man sidle up beside Rose at the bar like he owned the damn room. His grin was the kind of cocky that should come with a warning label—fake confidence, slick hands, too much cologne. He leaned just a fraction too close, his body angling toward her like he was already imagining what she looked like beneath that dress.
Her smile—the polite one she gives strangers to keep the peace—shifted. It was subtle, but it became tight and strained at the edges.
Most people wouldn’t notice.
But I did.
I knew her. I’d studied every soft expression and every panicked one. I’d watched her come undone for me with asingle word, and I could read her discomfort like a flashing neon sign.
Harry and I had been here for about an hour. We’d barely made a dent in the pitcher of beer between us, even though we’d talked at length about square footage, permits, zoning regulations—everything we were supposed to be focused on.
But the second she walked in, that all went to hell.
That green dress. Jesus fucking Christ.
It fit her like it was designed with nothing but the intent to cause a boner that I shouldn’t have while sitting across the table from her father. Satin clung to her like it had been painted on, outlining the exact shape of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the dip at her waist. When she moved, the fabric shifted like water, catching flashes of light from the bar. And the slit at the side? Just high enough to be cruel.
I wasn’t the kind of man who tells a woman what she can or can’t wear. That’s never been my style. If she wanted to wear that dress to the grocery store, I’d back her. Hell, I’d buy the whole rack in various colors if it meant getting to see her in it again.
But knowing every asshole in this place was staring at what’s mine?
That tested every ounce of control I had left.
Our booth was raised just a few inches above the main floor—barely a step—but it gave me just enough of an edge to watch her through the crowd. My beer sat untouched, the condensation pooling on the table, forgotten. I had one arm draped over the back of the seat, playing it cool for Harry’s sake, but my body was wound tight. My leg bounced with the kind of restless, territorial energy I hadn’t felt in years.
Then I saw it.
That jackass leaned in even more. Just enough to test aboundary he clearly didn’t think existed. Her smile tightened again, her weight shifting ever so slightly away from him. A flicker of discomfort in her eyes. A signal.
That was all it took.
“I’m going to get us more drinks,” I said, pushing up from the booth.
Harry glanced at the pitcher, lifting a brow. “We’ve still got plenty.”
“It’s warm,” I shot back, already on my feet.
I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I moved fast, threading between bodies, ignoring the buzz of conversation and the sticky floor beneath my boots. Every step was filled with purpose. I didn’t take my eyes off her. Not even when I shouldered past a guy who clearly didn’t believe in personal space.
My blood was pounding in my ears.
Just before that smug bastard could touch her—his hand hovering, fingers twitching like he was debating where he’d place them—I slid in between them. My arm hit the bar with a controlledthud. The force behind it was deliberate. A warning.
Mine.
He startled, jerking back like he’d been slapped. He stared at me, then behind me at Rose, doing the mental math and not liking the equation. I met his gaze for half a second—just enough for him to understand exactly how this would end if he didn’t back off.
He got it.
Without a word, he disappeared into the crowd.
Smart bastard.
I turned to Rose. Her eyes were wide, lips parted slightly in surprise. Her breath caught when she saw me up close, andI knew her pulse was racing. I could feel the electricity between us, humming like a live wire.
My own blood hadn’t settled yet—too much adrenaline, too much possessiveness clawing just under my skin. But the second I looked at her, something darker took over. Hunger. Lust. Something feral.
“You okay?” I asked, voice low but not gentle.
