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Politely, I shuffled my chair over an inch and shifted my leg away from his, though there really wasn’t anywhere else to go. If his goal had been to corner me, then he had effectively carried it out. That alone made me a little antsy, but I tried to play it cool.

As he flagged down a passing waitress, I gazed across the room and watched Cowboy take a seat at the bar with his back to me. He seemed oblivious to everything that had transpired moments ago between the Barlow boys and me. It only took me mere seconds to figure out why.

A gaggle of gorgeous, skin-baring ladies flocked around him, smiling and giggling as he spoke to them. I rolled my eyes. No woman was safe. From what I’d heard, he damn sure had never considered any off-limits. That man should come with a disclaimer stamped across his forehead.

Then I grinned, considering how his disclaimer would read.

Warning: appendages of this virile male are under constant pressure. Prolonged exposure to him may result in rash behavior, absurdity, coarse language, doses of immaturity, and occasional fainting. This man may not be suitable for women of any age. Batteries not included…or needed.

“You got something going with him, huh?”

Startled, I tore my gaze from Cowboy and shifted it to the man sitting beside me. “Um, no, I…well, not exactly.”

“Hmm. That’s too bad,” he said sarcastically. Then he stealthily slid his hand onto my thigh. He might as well have palmed a hand buzzer the way I jumped. “Whoa, calm down, honey. I won’t bite.” He shrugged his brows suggestively. “At least not unless you want me to.”

“I’m sorry. I think you misunderstood my intentions. I’m not available.”

He winked slyly at me. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. That’s what makes this so much fun.”

Befuddled by his comment, I pushed his hand off my leg and started to stand. But before I could, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me forcefully against his chest, and locked his repulsive lips onto mine. He tasted of sour liquor and smelled like cigarette smoke, which made me want to gag. I pushed against him, but he wouldn’t let go. So I dug my nails into his bicep and bit him.

Finally, he released me. The asshole.

“There,” he said, taking a quick glance over my shoulder. “That should do the trick.” I raised my hand to slap him, but he stopped me by grabbing it before it made contact. “Hold up, sweet lips. We’re still waiting on the last party guest to arrive. Wouldn’t want to start the show without him. Don’t worry, though. He’s on his way.”

He wore a smirk that reeked of trouble as he nodded across the bar in Cowboy’s direction. I hadn’t known this guy was manufacturing a scenario for Cowboy’s benefit. And after the way Cowboy had acted on the dance floor about Bubba Ray touching my arm, I didn’t have to turn to know exactly what I would see.

Yet I did anyway.

One very fired up country boy wearing a white Stetson shoved his way through the wall of onlookers. His eyes, blackened with intensity, reflected the colorful strobe lights as one hundred and fifty inquiring spectators followed his movements. The surrounding chatter dropped to a whisper before a hush fell over the crowd, as if his sullen, ominous mood stunned the audience into a muted trance.

The indignant, disapproving expression on Cowboy’s face spoke volumes as to his mindset. Between that and the other man’s smugness over sampling my goods, this moment had all the elements of disaster. Hoping to petition Cowboy’s sensibility, I ejected myself from my seat, squeezed past the man at my table, and stood in front of the demon spawn who had fueled Cowboy’s anger with his outlandish shenanigans.

“Move,” Cowboy ordered, the strength in his voice weakening my knees.

But I lifted my chin, daring him to make me. “No. You’re not getting into a fight.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Stop it right now. You’re making a scene.”

“I haven’t even begun to make a scene…yet.”

The man behind me stood and came up beside me, leering at Cowboy. “Hey, bub. You’re trespassing. This is my side of the bar, remember?”

“That’s because you’re poaching,” Cowboy said, glaring at him. “What do you do—cruise the bar, stalking our women, just waiting for a chance to make a move on them?”

Our women?

“What, are you jealous she chose me over you, dickhead?”

Cowboy started for him, but I put my hand to his chest to stop him. “No fighting. I mean it.”

“Anna,” he said, gritting his teeth. It was a one-word warning.

The way he said my name irked me. As if there was some sort of prize element involved. With their heated glares and ready-to-charge postures, they looked like two territorial bulls in rut. The only thing left for them to do was the embarrassing scratching of their private areas.

“This gentleman and I—”

“Gentleman, my ass,” Bobbie Jo said as she pushed through the crowd. “What the hell did you do now, Jeremy?”

Jeremy? Oh, good Lord.

“He’s Jeremy?” I said meekly, keeping my eyes from meeting hers.

Though I hadn’t thought it possible, the already tense atmosphere heightened to an even more uncomfortable level. Rooted in a long-time feud, these two men had some bad blood between them. Bobbie Jo had told me all about the rivalry between her boys and Jeremy, which happened to be the chauvinistic chameleon I was protecting. At least I finally managed to determine the cause of Cowboy’s extreme irritation.

“Yeah, this is the asshole who broke my nose with a beer bottle last summer,” Cowboy sneered.

I thought his nose looked slightly more crooked than when I last saw him at camp. Guess that explained it.

Jeremy shook his head. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and quit crying about it already.”

“Why don’t you make me?” Cowboy said, pushing me aside and getting into Jeremy’s face.

Taking prompt measures, I squeezed back in between them. “Guys, please. This situation doesn’t warrant a repeat of whatever happened last summer. Behave yourselves and act like grown-ups.”

Jeremy chuckled behind me. “You always let a woman tell you what to do, Cowboy?”

Hoping to throw a wrench into Jeremy’s plans, I turned to face him and poked him in the chest. “Stop goading him, you jerk. You’re just looking for a fight.”

He grabbed my hand and lifted it to his mouth, nipping it lightly. “Actually, I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” His gaze roamed down to my breasts and he smirked. “Why don’t you come home with me tonight and find out for yourself?”

Before I could even respond, Cowboy latched onto my arm and jerked me away from Jeremy. “I’m about a pecker hair away from kicking your ass, you sonofabitch.”

Jeremy grinned wide and cracked his knuckles as four men at a nearby table stood up and joined him. “Let’s see it then.”

Ox and Judd moved closer, stationing themselves behind Cowboy as Jake maneuvered Emily and Bobbie Jo behind him. When Cowboy tried to shift me behind him, I dug my heels into the floor. “Move out of the way,” he ordered. “I don’t want you to get caught up in this.”

“The hell I will.” I shook his hand off my arm and turned back to Jeremy. “If you thought for one second that you ever had a chance with me, you’re crazy. No wonder Bobbie Jo is tired of putting up with you. You’re nothing more than a…a mooncalf.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows squeezed together in puzzlement as he looked over at Cowboy. “What the fuck did she call me?”

Cowboy shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me, but I don’t think it was a compliment.”

“Dear Lord.” I shook my head in frustration. “I called you a mentally defective person.”

“An idiot, in other words?” Jeremy asked.

Several women, including Bobbie Jo, giggled nearby.

Cowboy’s laugh caught my attention and I looked over my shoulder at him. “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?” he asked.