Page 4 of The Irish Rogue

Brody The Weasel scowled at her. “We both know you’ve only been playing hard to get!”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You are seriously delusional.”

Tom appeared in that moment, frowning at each of them in turn. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

“Everything is under control,” Kennedi replied, putting a soothing hand on Tom’s forearm. “Brody was just leaving.”

Tom sighed in disgust and glared at Brody. “Are you harassing Kennediagain, Brody?”

Brody’s jaw dropped at the accusation. “What the hell do you mean, old man? I’m not harassing her! We were just…negotiating.”

Tom sighed. “Brody, Kennedi has told you she’s not interested several times. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ban you. If you leave now, I won’t call Mick.”

Brody fisted his hands on his hips, glaring at Tom, then at the stranger. “There’s no need to get the sheriff involved. This is just a misunderstanding between me and Kennedi.” He turned to glare at the stranger. “And if anyone’s going to be arrested, it’s him for putting his hands on me.”

Kennedi gasped. “Don’t you dare!” she hissed right back at Brody. “You wouldn’t let me go, Brody, and there are about twelve witnesses standing behind you that will testify to what happened. So do not threaten that man! This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you not accepting no as my answer.”

Brody ran a hand through his hair, frustration making him tense. Frustration and alcohol, she corrected. The guy wasn’t drunk, probably not even over the legal limit to drive. But alcohol tended to loosen one’s moral compass. A lot of people did things after drinking that weren’t necessarily something they’d do if they’d been stone cold sober.

“Brody, get out,” Tom ordered. “Don’t come back.”

Startled, Brody’s mouth fell open for a long moment. “You can’t do that!” he whined.

Kennedi looked over at the stranger. He was leaning against the wall and looked like a relaxed observer of the confrontation.

But there was something about the man, a latent strength that whispered that he wasn’t relaxed. He was tense, and ready to step in and forcibly remove Brody from the premises if the need arose.

However, Tom had a direct line to the sheriff, and most likely, there were several deputies stationed close by, ready to stop anyone who might try to drive after having too many beers. Tom worked hard to ensure that no one left drunk. But he couldn’t be everywhere. Every bartender and wait staff member was told to stop serving alcohol to anyone who appeared close to the legal limit, but they weren’t psychic.

“As the owner, I absolutely can do that. And I’m sure that Mick will help me enforce my decision if you decide to test me.”

Again, Brody looked around and suddenly realized that he’d made a spectacle of himself. Pulling himself together, he jerked the collar of his shirt back in place, then shrugged dismissively. “Fine,” he snapped. “This place is a dump anyway.”

And then he pushed through the doors, stalking out into the humid night air.

As soon as he left, everyone seemed to relax. No one had noticed at the time, but even the band had stopped playing. That fact was only noticed when they suddenly struck up a new song and everyone turned, whispering about the scene that had just transpired.

Kennedi turned, clasping her hands together as she walked over to the stranger. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I could have handled it, but Brody would be limping now.”

Sean watched the woman’s face, but the dim light made it harder to see her expression clearly. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that it came to a confrontation.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Brody. He’s harmless.”

“He is not,” Sean countered. “And you shouldn’t have to put up with assault, from him or anybody else. Do you want to call the sheriff? I’ll sign an affidavit saying that he wouldn’t let go.”

She flushed and he thought that the pretty pink was the most attractive color he’d ever seen. She lowered her long dark lashes and he only saw the pink stain on her cheeks for a moment. Then she looked up at him, shaking her head. Those soft, wispy strands that had escaped from her ponytail danced around her face.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Mick knows all about Brody. He’ll watch out for me.”

Sean didn’t like the sound of that. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes.” She placed her hands on her hips, unaware of how the movement pulled the black tee-shirt tighter across her lush breasts. But he noticed! And his body reacted to the sight. Of course, Sean tried not to notice. The woman had just been assaulted by an ass. She didn’t need to be hit on by anyone else just now.

“Thank you again for helping. Most men wouldn’t even notice.”

“Most men are eejits,” he replied, forgetting to smother his accent.

“Irish?” she asked, tilting her head quizzically.

---