Riveted

I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage sharing a bed with him and keeping my hands to myself, but I was a grown-up and told myself I could make it through one night unscathed … maybe.

“I need a beer, and maybe a shot … or three.” Definitely more than one if I was going to lie next to that big, hard body all night and not touch. I could drink until I blacked out ensuring I would keep my hands to myself and not whisper into the dark all the ways my heart longed for him. “We drove past a couple bars when we pulled into town that are within walking distance. Wanna grab a drink?”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” He sounded gruff and leery of my plan.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise your virtue, and the rest of you, is safe with me.” I smiled at him and reached out so I could grab his hand. I started walking towards the road, thinking he would oblige me, but was pulled up short when his massive frame didn’t budge an inch.

“It’s not my virtue I’m worried about. It’s all those Confederate flags hanging out of the back of the pickup trucks parked out front.” I paused and frowned at him over my shoulder. “I’m used to not being safe, it’s you I would worry about.”

That wasn’t something I even noticed, but I wasn’t surprised he had and his words had my tummy twisting into knots. Every single time he mentioned keeping me safe or taking care of me it made that thing I knew, that knowledge I had that he was it for me, settle deeper into my bones. It made me want to kick myself for wasting a second on those stupid dating apps. I couldn’t trick my stubborn heart into thinking there was a substitute for the man that didn’t want it. When the heart knew, it just knew. “Okay. Well, I guess we can find a liquor store and have happy hour in our room.” I didn’t want to put him in a situation where he was uncomfortable or unappreciated. He was a lot bigger than me but I really wanted to shield him and protect him from some of that ugliness that he’d experienced throughout his life.

He grunted and gave his head a shake. “No, let’s just go to the bar. I’ll be fine and I’ll make sure you’re fine.” Something in his tone told me that it probably wouldn’t be fine and he was lying through his teeth.

“Really, I just want a drink. I don’t care where it comes from.” I yelped as his fingers curled around mine where I was holding him and he started to march up the side of the road practically hauling me along behind him. There was no way I could keep up with his long-legged gait, so I ended up almost having to jog to keep pace with him.

“I haven’t been around the good ole boys in a long time. It’s probably good to have a refresher course before we hit Lowry and it can’t hurt anything for you to see what you very well might be up against when we cross into the city limits. Jules used to have to come and get me from school for fighting all the time. Now he’d have to come get me out of jail if someone rubbed me the wrong way.”

I tried to pull him to a stop so I could urge him to go back to the cute little cabin with me but now he was a man on a mission. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to teach me a lesson or prove something to himself, but either way it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. All I wanted was a drink, not to be caught in the middle of one of his memories or a bad memory in the making.

I felt him stiffen the minute we pushed through the doors. I saw his back go board straight and the way his shoulders braced like the ceiling was going to fall down around us. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that if I could the expression on it would be fierce enough to keep anyone from venturing too close to us. However, as we walked farther inside the honky-tonk it was clear the loud country music wasn’t going to stop playing. None of the patrons stopped the conversations they were having, and the bouncer sitting at the door much like Church did at my bar didn’t flick an eyelash or even shift his weight. The only person that seemed to care about us at all was the blonde cocktail server in shorts that were way too short who swung by and told us there was a table in the back if we wanted to sit down. She apologized for the crowd, mentioned the festival, and told me she liked my tank top after mentioning they had a two-for-one special on Patrón.

I ordered a round before we sat down and gave Church a look from under my eyebrows as he sat sulkily and silently across from me, eyes darting around the room like he was waiting for a confrontation that didn’t seem like it was in any hurry to find him. The waitress smiled at him exactly the same way I would if I was the one dropping off his bourbon, lots of teeth, lots of eye contact, and enough of an invitation that I was now also scowling. She hurried about to take care of the rest of her tables as Church’s gaze found its way back to mine.

I let the silence drag on through the first two shots but by the time the blonde brought the third I had settled enough that I was brave enough to ask. “So I take it this isn’t your usual experience in a place like this?”

I tossed the third shot back and chased it with a swig of beer. My head was starting to get a little fuzzy and my limbs a little loose.

He picked up his glass and gave the amber liquid a little taste, his multicolored eyes seeming to swirl together like an abstract painting. “Been in a lot of places around the world. I learned you never know what to expect when you walk into any place not looking much like the locals.”

I frowned a little bit and licked at the salt I had poured on the back of my hand I’d used to chase my tequila shot with. I made a face as I sucked on a slice of lime. “That sounds exhausting. Being on alert all the time, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. That doesn’t sound like much fun.”