Calm down. He wants you to snap.
Wants to remind you who you are, that you’ll never be normal. That you’ll never be anything but a violent temper on legs. With Sera beside him, though, he felt like more than that. He was her protector. Still, if he blew Wayne off now, it would come back to bite him in the ass. With everyone watching their every move, he couldn’t blow off business for a girl. Word would spread he’d gone soft and it would only be a matter of time before someone tried to create a new job opportunity for himself by eliminating the competition. Him.
Bowen leaned down to talk in Sera’s ear. “Can you sit at the bar for a few minutes? I won’t be long.”
She nodded, reassurance in her brown eyes. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead.”
“Great.” Wayne snorted. “Now we’ve got permission.”
Ignoring the comment, Bowen led Sera to the bar and boosted her onto a seat.
The bartender came over immediately. A dirty martini. It had to be the last drink he would expect her to order, but that contradiction somehow made complete sense. An angel sitting at a bar full of scum, trying to blend in. God, he wanted to take her home.
“Don’t go anywhere, okay? No one will bother you if you stay put.”
She traced a circle on the bar. “Why won’t they bother me?”
Why was she asking when she already knew? Did she need to be reassured or was she asking because she wasn’t supposed to know? “They’ve seen you with me. They know what will happen if I come back and someone has made the mistake of talking to you.”
“Just someone talking to me would bother you?”
“Sera, I’m wishing they were all fucking blind right now.” Underneath the bar, he laid a hand on her bare knee. “If I didn’t think seeing the sexy way you kiss would interest them more, I would take your mouth right now. I’d fuck it with mine, to remind them who you’re with.”
He grazed her ear with his stubbled cheek. “But once they see the way that mouth moves, I’ll have to fight them off, won’t I, baby?”
He watched the pulse flutter at her neck. “No fighting, please. Not for me.”
Bowen pulled back to study her adamant expression. She didn’t like the idea of him fighting, looked distinctly upset about the possibility. “If I did fight for you, it would be the first time I’d ever used my fists for something worthwhile.”
Guilt shone briefly in her eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” He gave a warning look to every male within spitting distance. “Be good.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sera took a sip of her martini and tried not to gag. It tasted exactly as the name implied. Dirty, like it had gone past its expiration date or been left in the sun too long. Aware of the attention being paid to her, she didn’t so much as flinch as the liquid burned down her throat. God, she’d kill for a Snapple to rid herself of the taste.
She noticed a group of men sending her covert glances. They looked drunk and bored, a dangerous combination. In fact, she had a suspicion they were nominating someone to come talk to her.
She didn’t want to see how that would go over when Bowen came back.
It would be foolish of her not to believe he’d meant every word. His jealousy,
his
possessive
attitude
concerning her, only grew by the hour.
And in turn, so did her desire for it to keep growing, which didn’t make any sense when the thought of him fighting bothered her immensely. When Bowen kissed her, when he talked to her as if it were them versus the world, she wanted it to be true. The more time she spent with him only made her confidence grow that he was the man she’d never known enough to hope for. He didn’t belong in this world. He was a victim of his circumstances.
Could she save him as she’d resolved to do, or was she a victim of her circumstances, same as him? Were they doomed to part ways as enemies once this ended?
Today had been incredible. Possibly even the best day of her life. When they’d just been two people without deadlines or agendas coloring the air around them, she’d been Sera with him, not a nurse, or a cop, or a grieving sister. Just herself. After the strictness of
boarding school and not knowing how to connect with her uncle on the odd occasion she saw him, being herself had been impossible. She didn’t know who she was. How ironic that while pretending to be someone else, she finally felt comfortable in her own skin.
“Buy you your next drink?”
The words were slurred to her right, issued from the apparent nominee of Drunk and Bored Central. She smiled politely and shook her head, already having learned while waitressing that reasoning with a drunk man usually meant a convoluted or inappropriate response.
“Bowen and I are friends. He won’t mind.”
“If that were true, I think you know he would.”
“You talk pretty.”