His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly.
“I had such a crush on you. I was a half second from dipping my finger into that pickle jar, and then you laughed.”
“Damn,” he said. “I’ve always said I had no regrets, but that one…”
“Shut up,” I said, grinning.
He rested an elbow on the bar, leaning in closer, until his lips were against my ear. “I can’t regret it when I’ve seen you suck on the real thing.”
A bolt of heat spiraled through me, straight to my core, and suddenly I wanted it to just be us in that bar, so that I could show him once more exactly what that looked like in real life. My heart thundered to life in my chest, and I tried to remember whether the bathroom door had a lock on it.
Before I could come up with an answer, the door swung open, casting a swath of light across the floor.
I glanced over my shoulder, and it was all I could do not to groan at the site of the man walking through the door. It was the mill worker from the funeral, the one who had spoken up defending Landon’s father. The guy walked past us, oblivious to our presence as he headed to the other end of the bar.
“Should we head out?” I asked, turning to Landon so he’d be forced to meet my eyes, putting the man out of his peripheral vision. “Go to your place?”
“I thought we could work out way through the taps,” he said, gesturing. “We have three more to go. My PA can give us a ride home.”
“Why don’t we stop at the store and grab drinks for the house instead?” I asked. Over Landon’s shoulder, the guy had finally noticed us. He was staring us down, his eyes burning with words unspoken.
Shit.
Too late.
Chapter 2
“Hey,” the man called out.
Landon was facing me, and ignored him, unaware the man was talking to him. I put a hand on his arm, hoping to pull him out before the guy said another word, but I was too slow.
“Hey, Son,” the guy said. Son sounded like an insult, like he thought of Landon as a kid.
Landon twisted around, glancing over his shoulder.
The moment he met the guy’s eyes, it was all over. He stiffened, his muscles going taut.
And then it got worse. Behind us, the door swung open again, and three more people walked in, finding seats with the millworker.
Landon didn’t move, his back to me as he stared down the men across the bar. So long had passed that I thought he may have forgotten that the man had spoken to him.
But then he finally replied. “What?”
“That was a real shitty thing you did,” the guy said.
“Excuse me?”
This man may not have known it, but Landon’s tone was dangerous. Taut and ready to snap. To explode, with the stranger as his target.
“Ruining your father’s good name like that? Talking shit once he’s dead and can’t defend himself? Real cowardly thing to do.”
Landon stood so fast his stool clattered to the ground, and then he was blocking my view of the men across the room. “The only reason my father had a good name was because he was a lying bastard. You don’t know what the hell you’re taking about.”
I stood, stepping over his stool and moving away from the bar so that Landon was no longer between me and the men.
The guy was rolling up the sleeves on his dark blue flannel, the closest thing to mourning wear he must own. The move was meant to look casual, but I could see the rigid set of his shoulders, knew the move was meant to prepare him to fight.
“Knew the man for twenty years, I’d say I know what I’m talking about.”
“Yeah? Well then I guess you’re the one full of shit.”
By the time the guy stood, my heart had already thundered to life. The bartender was nowhere in sight, leaving me with two very angry men.
Then his three buddies stood, flanking him, and I knew we were screwed. Even when faced by the group of them, Landon didn’t back down. He wasn’t the type to back down from a fight—and in this case, I knew that could be a life-threatening trait.
Fear snaked up my spine.
“My father was an asshole who beat his wife and son,” Landon spit. “Whatever he told you, it wasn’t the truth.
“Oh, he told me a lot alright. He told me all about you,” The guy said, as Landon stalked across the room, every step bringing him closer to an inevitable explosion. I hung back, darting a look around the room, desperate for someone to stop this before he got hurt. “How you got expelled for fighting at school, how you would attack him when he got home from work.”
They were inching closer to one another now, Landon’s shoulders stiff and his fists clenched. “Yeah? And who the hell do you think taught me to fight?”
“I don’t think you can fight for shit unless you sucker punch someone,” the man growled. “Your old man told me what a fucking pussy you are.”