Austin turned with a wine bottle in hand. “You scare him.”
The red wine curled around the base of my glass and kept rising.
“Wait, wait.” I held out my hands to stop the pour, used to getting a sample taste to see if I would like it. “No, why…”
I sighed as the liquid closed in on the top of the slim glass. There was no room to swirl. I wasn’t a connoisseur, but everyone knew you had to swirl red wine so as to look mildly important. Matt had made a big thing out of it.
“Here you go.” Austin winked at me.
Paul finally handed over Niamh’s drink as I tasted the wine. It was bitter, and the vinegary punch at the end made me scrunch up my nose.
“Ugh.” I shivered, my mouth now tasting like garbage.
“That good, huh?” Niamh grinned at me.
“No, thank you.” I pushed the glass across the top of the bar. “How about a Coors?”
Austin homed in on the wine. He lifted it to his lips, the top lip a bit thinner but no less shapely than the full bottom lip, and sampled. His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with it?”
I lifted my eyebrows. “You have, like, twenty tasting rooms up and down that main drag. Have you not been in them?”
He looked at me for a silent beat, as though he had a defense at the ready but couldn’t use it. “No,” he finally said.
I shook my head in disbelief. “It’s nothing. Just not my thing. I’ll go for a beer, please.”
Niamh clasped the edge of the bar with an evil smile. “How will he learn if you don’t speak your mind?” she asked me.
Austin’s brow pinched. He gestured for me to go on. “What’s the problem? Give it to me.”
I sighed, realizing they weren’t going to let me out of this one.
“Well…honestly, it’s not a very good bottle. It’s inexpensive, right? Which I’d expect in many dive bars, don’t get me wrong. I usually don’t order wine in a dive bar. It’s just that you’re in a wine town, so I figured it would at least be decent. That was my bad. I assumed. Second, it’s been open for a long time. It’s gone off.” I shrugged. “I was hoping to try something from one of the local vineyards. It’s okay, though. Coors will be fine.”
The guy next to me whistled, his overgrown mustache flaring with the sudden breeze. “And that’s why she’s divorced,” he said.
Austin’s shoulders swiveled. His left hand darted out so fast I couldn’t even get out a surprised “oh!” His fist smashed into the hairy man’s face with such force it knocked the guy off of the stool. His back slammed into the ground, followed by his head. His nose spurted blood instantly.
“Oh my God!” I jerked and turned, pushing into Niamh.
She shoved me back onto my stool, clearly unconcerned.
“What just happened?” I whispered so as not to screech. I’d seen a few fights in my day, but I’d never seen someone punched with such force. “Seriously, what…”
“He disrespected a lady in my bar, and he was served a warning never to do it again,” Austin said. “Do you want to try a different wine? I have a more expensive one.”
The man got up, cupping his face. With bleary eyes, he gave Austin a somber look. Right before he hurried for the door, he shot me a death stare.
Prickles of unease worked through my body. I’d seen that look before. Although none of this was my fault, I’d just created an enemy. A possibly dangerous enemy in a very small town.
I felt eyes on me from around the room. I shook my head, lowering my heating face. While Austin had probably thought he was being sweet, I wasn’t a naïve twenty-something anymore, impressed by his show of masculinity. Violence bred violence. Austin wasn’t in any danger—he was clearly the dominant male—but that guy had looked angry enough to go for the weakest link. In this case, me.
Some of the people who’d witnessed the incident probably thought I was at fault. That I’d made Austin react the way he had. The guy with the newly broken nose certainly seemed to think so.
My instinct was to keep quiet. Like every woman I knew, I’d been taught to go with the flow. To suffer in silence. But guys like Austin needed to start thinking about how their actions affected others. Bad guys kept winning because good guys didn’t understand they were part of the problem.
So, despite the embarrassment of going against the grain, I spoke my truth.
“I’m really grateful that you tried to defend me,” I started. “But that guy is now humiliated. He’ll blame it on me, and if he gets drunk enough, I’ll be the one he gets his revenge on. You’ve just created a very dangerous situation for me. I know you meant well, and I thank you for trying, but often a man doesn’t account for how dangerous the fallout can be for the woman. Can you call me a cab? If he’s still out there, I don’t trust my chances.”