“What’s the difference? I can’t help it if this vile oaf doesn’t understand basic English.” I turned to walk away, but stopped beside Cowboy. “Unlike you, I don’t have to settle a dispute with fists. I know how to use my mouth effectively.”
“I know how to use your mouth, too,” Jeremy said to my back. “Those pretty lips sure would make a great resting place for my dick.”
In the blink of an eye, Cowboy launched himself at Jeremy, tackling him onto a nearby table that crashed to the ground beneath their weight. The two of them broke apart on impact, but that didn’t stop the squabble. They wrestled with each other, both trying to gain a foothold to return to a standing position. When Cowboy finally managed to shove Jeremy away, they jumped to their feet and the entire bar erupted into a madhouse.
Women spread in every direction, scattering to avoid getting hit, while other men jumped into the fight and threw punches. I yelled for Cowboy to stop, but my words were drowned out by the ribald shouts of the men and terrified shrieks coming from the ladies.
Stunned, I stood in place and watched Jeremy land a jab to Cowboy’s ribs that shoved him against the wooden banister of the dance floor. Reacting, Cowboy wheeled around and struck Jeremy with a well-aimed thrust of his boot and a punch to his chiseled jaw.
The dramatically chaotic situation worsened as more men closed in. Shoved back through the crowd, I lost sight of the others. That’s when I realized I stood smack dab in the middle of something closely resembling a war zone without a single recognizable face in the bunch.
A dizzying number of glass bottles, broken chairs, and bloody fists flew around me. And the men who weren’t fighting sure as hell weren’t helping the situation. They stood on the outskirts of the entanglement, taking bets and shouting encouragements to the soldiers in battle, as if they enjoyed the entertainment.
Then I caught a glimpse of Cowboy swimming through the sea of people with his eyes focused solely on mine. He had a painful-looking bruise on his left cheek, a knot on his forehead, and a small cut over his right brow. Yet he kept a diligent watch on me as he swiftly and competently made his way toward me like his body was on autopilot.
Once he made it to me, he didn’t waste any time sliding his arm around my waist and escorting me toward the side exit. As he pushed us through the crowd, he kept his body close to mine, insulating me from the splintering wood, shattering glass, and wild punches. Without a single word, he towed me out the door, through the parking lot, and lifted me into passenger seat of his truck.
Relieved, I let out the breath I’d been holding in. Sanctuary, at last.
As Cowboy maneuvered around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, a horn sounded nearby. Jake, Emily, and Bobbie Jo were piled into the front seat of Jake’s truck and waved as they pulled out of the parking lot. I’d forgotten all about them when the fight broke out, but they’d apparently waited outside to make sure we’d made it out okay.
We had, but the way Cowboy gave them a half-hearted, pissed-off wave and climbed silently into the driver’s seat led me to believe this wasn’t the shelter from the storm I’d originally thought. Not only was he pissed, but I had no doubt we were about to have an unavoidable discussion I wanted nothing more than to…well, avoid.
Cowboy started the truck and peeled out onto the highway. His fingers held the steering wheel in a death grip as his dilated eyes fixed on the dark road, but he stayed silent the entire drive. If his strategy was to wait me out, it didn’t work. I wasn’t looking forward to talking to him. And at the rate of speed he was driving, maybe I wouldn’t have to.
The small cut above his right eyebrow wasn’t bleeding, but the goose egg on his forehead and the large bruise on his left cheek were swelling more with every passing minute. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel kept me from doing so.
Within minutes, he slammed to a stop in front of my house, jerked open his door, and slid out. Guess our night wasn’t going to end quite as soon as I’d hoped. Still completely mute, he walked me to my front door and waited for me to unlock it. The moment I pushed it open, Cowboy said, “What’s your fucking problem?”
I blinked at him. “My problem?” I asked, my tone littered with disbelief. “I’m not the one who started a riot in the bar.”
“Yeah, well what the hell did you want me to do? Not only did that bastard put his filthy hands on you, but he also put his disgusting mouth on yours. Ya know, we call him ‘Germy’ for a fucking reason.” Cowboy exhaled a hard breath, as if to calm himself down. “You expect me to just walk away after how he treated you.”
“Really, Cowboy,” I said, rolling my eyes. “How is it any different than the way you’ve treated me yourself?”
I started inside, but Cowboy braced his arm across the doorway, blocking my entry. “Wait just a fucking minute. I’ve never treated you like that.”
I raised a brow to him. “Oh, yeah?”
“You damn well know I haven’t. I’ve never forced myself on you. You wanted me to kiss you…both times.”
“How do you know? Did you ask me?”
“Well, no. But I—”
“Exactly. And I do believe the second time I specifically asked you not to. But you didn’t listen.” I shook my head at him. “You men are all alike. You take whatever you want because you’re so afraid someone else might get to it first. Well, I’m not a trophy to be fought over. Good night, Cowboy,” I said, stepping inside as I swung the door closed.
But not before the toe of a boot slid inside.
Chapter Twelve
Cowboy shoved the door open. “I’m not done with you, yet.”
“Well, I’m done with you.” I spun on my heel and stormed into the kitchen.
His boots thudded on the tile behind me. He’d shadowed my movements because as I neared the sink, he grasped my shoulders and spun me around to face him. “Sonofabitch, Anna. Stop walking away.”
I sighed in defeat. “What do you want from me?”
He dropped his hand from my arm and clenched his fist at his side. “One fucking date. That’s what I want.”
“No.”
“Just dinner, nothing else.”
“I said no.”
Cowboy closed his eyes and counted to ten under his breath. “Darlin’, I’m about to blow my fucking top. Never in my life have I had to beg a woman to go out with me.”
I crossed my arms and looked at him in disbelief. “And what? You want a round of applause? A monument in your honor? How about a cookie?”
“No, I want an explanation.”
“I don’t owe you anything, Cowboy, an explanation or anything else for that matter.”
His eyes glazed with fury. “You damn sure owe me something after the bullshit you’ve put me through for the last week.”
I looked him directly in the eye and scoffed under my breath. “I already told you I wasn’t interested in dating you. But you just won’t listen. You’re crazy if you think you can blame—”
“Shut up.”
I blinked, registering what he said. “Did you just tell me to—”
“Damn straight I did. I’m tired of listening to your bullshit excuses. That story of yours about you not being interested has more holes than chicken wire. Every time I touch you, your body reacts to me. And you already know what you do to me. I’ve had the same goddamn boner for over a fucking week. And jerking off hasn’t done a damn thing to relieve it. So why don’t you do us both a favor and quit blowing sunshine up my ass.”
My mouth had fallen open, but I managed to snap it shut. “You don’t need to use your licentious language on me.”
His brows furrowed. “In English this time?”
“You know…the…um, sexy talk,” I explained, my face flaring with heat. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”
His expression lightened as he grinned with amusement, obviously delighted by my discomfort and not exhibiting the least bit of remorse for his behavior. “Darlin’, I hate to tell you this, but there’s no one else here.”