Jake’s reaction was pure instinct; he took a step forward, clenching his fists to keep from hitting the fool, backing him up against the rail.
“What’s the matter? Truth hurt a little?” Slick asked and braced himself for the blow that was sure to come.
Chapter Twenty-five
Robin thought the evening already sucked, but this took the cake. She stepped in front of Jake before he could do something awful, like punch Evan, which is exactly what he appeared about to do. “What are you doing?” she cried, pushing hard against his chest.
“Oh good, a fight,” Mia drawled behind her. “What did we miss?”
Must have been something good—Robin had never seen such fire as she saw in Jake’s eyes, blazing down at her that very moment. His jaw was clenched as tight as his fist. “Let’s get out of here,” he said sharply and promptly turned on his heel, striding for the little gangplank.
“Yes, let’s,” Robin said, bewildered, but turned around to Evan, who straightened his shirt as he watched Jake stride away. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Evan said. “But I’m worried about you. The man has a temper.”
“What happened?”
“Robin!” Jake bellowed from the yacht’s gangplank.
Evan ignored him, smiled down at Robin. “A little too much testosterone, that’s all. Do you want a ride? Let us give you a ride home. You don’t need to go with him.”
“No,” she said instantly and stepped back. She did not fear Jake and never would. He would never touch so much as a hair on her head.
“I don’t know, Rob,” Mia said, glancing over her shoulder at Jake. “He seems sort of rough.”
Which was precisely what made him so sexy. “I’ll be fine!” she said angrily and turned away from her friends, walking to where Jake was impatiently waiting.
“I want off this tin bucket,” he said low, and grabbed her hand, pulled her along, down the gangplank. But once they were on terra firma again, Robin yanked her hand from his grip.
His head jerked around; his brown eyes, still blazing, burned a hole right through her.
“What in the hell happened back there?” she demanded.
“Give me the keys.”
“No—”
“Give me the fucking keys, Robin.”
His voice was so low and cool that it left her speechless. After a moment’s hesitation, she handed him the keys. He walked around the passenger side of the car, opened the door for her, motioned for her to hurry along. Once she was inside, he got in behind the wheel, and with his jaw clenched tight, revved the engine. They backed out on a squeal of rubber and exited the parking lot in much the same way.
They rocketed out on to the Gulf highway. Jake stared straight ahead. His expression sent a bit of a chill down Robin’s spine, but she was too angry to let it go. “What in God’s name were you doing? You almost hit him!” she demanded, folding her arms defensively across her middle.
“He’s an asshole.”
“He’s not an asshole!”
“Don’t, “Jake said, sparing her a very icy glance. “Don’t defend him.”
“Should I be defending you?”
“Just thank your lucky stars you stepped in when you did or I might have killed him.”
“What did he say or do that was so horrible?”
Jake said nothing, just clenched his jaw tighter.
“Jesus, Jake, I want to understand, but right now, all my friends think you are some kind of fiend—”
“Your friends, as you call them, treated me like dirt all night.”
“No, you don’t understand—”
“That boy of yours was trying to bait me, Robin.”
She couldn’t deny that; it was obvious to her that Evan was jealous of Jake. “You have to understand, he’s got an ego.”
“And I don’t?” Jake all but shouted. “He’s an arrogant prick and a fucking coward!”
“Well, at least he’s not a bully, forcing people to his way of thinking with the threat of his fist,” she snapped. “What did he say, anyway?”
“You want to know? You want to know what that prick implied? That I was seeing you because your father was dying.”
Robin gasped.
Jake careened around a corner, then punched it.
Clearly, he had misunderstood, Robin thought. Yes, of course he’d misunderstood. There was no way Evan would have said such a thing. She knew him. “Is it possible you misunderstood—”
“I didn’t misunderstand a damn thing.”
“Well, even if he did, which he didn’t, does that give you the right to hit him?”
“It damn near gives me the right to kill him. I won’t stand for any man disrespecting me.”
Oh great, it was a testosterone thing—Robin groaned with exasperation. “Could you try and give him the benefit of the doubt?”
“Why?” he roared. “Why do you insist on defending him?”