“You have to stop or you’re going to get worry lines.”
She felt Sam’s palm slide beneath her hair and curl around the nape of her neck. She knew it was him without turning. He leaned against her back, his fingers massaging the tension out of her, sending little sparks of electricity dancing over her skin. She’d definitely had too much to drink. She had to remain silent or she was going to blurt out something horrible, like he could possibly be the hottest man on earth.
“Why would Stella be getting worry lines, Denver?” Sam asked.
He bent closer so she felt his breath stirring strands of her hair. She needed to hold her own breath to savor that moment. If she breathed too deep, she’d pull his scent right into her lungs, and she didn’t dare do that. His voice. That rich, low voice that brushed over her skin and then sank deep into her bones.
“She’s worried about me,” Denver said, his voice overloud and a little slurred. He turned slightly on the barstool, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. “Uh-oh. That bastard Bale Landry and his rotten friends are here tonight and Sean is staring at Shabina in a way I don’t like. I didn’t see them come in, did you, Sam?”
Stella immediately tried to push away from the bar, but Sam held her in place. He trapped her body easily with his larger one, his hand still resting casually on her nape, but he was clearly holding her in place.
“Don’t go off half-cocked, honey. We need to see what they’re up to before you start a war with them.”
Denver stood up, staggered and recovered his equilibrium. “They always get ugly with Zahra and Shabina. Mostly Shabina. Bruce is with Zahra, and no one wants to mess with her when he’s around.”
That was the truth. Bruce was just too big, a mountain of man, mostly muscle. It was known by every local that he crushed hard on Zahra, and saying anything to her could get you on the wrong side of his very powerful fist. Stella could see Bruce dancing in the middle, surrounded by Shabina, Zahra and Raine. They hadn’t noticed Bale, Sean, Edward and Jason swagger up to the bar. The four men ordered beers and immediately turned to watch those dancing.
“Why do you suppose they keep targeting Shabina and Zahra the way they do?” Stella asked. “I think Bale intimidates Harlow, and that’s hard to do, but they’ve never really gone after me. I wonder why.”
Sam exchanged a look with Denver over her head. Denver sighed and rubbed her arm. “Babe, no one is going to come after you if they think they’ll have to contend with the two of us. And they’d have to.”
Stella tilted back her head to look up at Denver and then Sam. She’d definitely had too much to drink. Tilting her head back was a huge mistake. The room began to spin. She flung out her arm to look for something solid to hang on to. At the same time, she clutched her drink. It had mysteriously been refilled. Just like magic. She found Sam’s arm. He had a very good arm. All muscle. Hard. She petted his muscles.
“I need to get over there, Sam. Someone has to be the voice of reason.”
“You’re a little drunk right now, Stella,” Sam said. He sounded like the voice of reason, which annoyed her. She was supposed to be the voice of reason. She didn’t get drunk. She got tipsy sometimes, like now, when she was fairly certain her posse needed her to ward off the bad guys circling their group. There were plenty of women to choose to dance with, but no, Bale and his desperate losers had to start critiquing her friends. It was so annoying.
Sam wrapped his arm around her waist. “Woman.”
“Man.” She glared up at him. “They need me.”
“Sam and I can handle it. You sit here and behave.” Denver unexpectedly sided with Sam.
Stella included him in her glare. She should have known he would switch sides, the traitor. Just because Sam got that implacable look on his face.
“Babe.” Denver started laughing and held up both hands in surrender. “You’re shooting lightning bolts out of your eyes. You’re going to fry me. The only reason we weren’t banned from the Grill the last time there was an altercation between your girl posse and Bale and his boys was because Alek is a little smitten with you. You saved his bar with your business plan and made the Grill what it is today, so you’re his golden girl.”
Stella had saved the restaurant, coming up with the idea for music at night and the food that was more than bar food. Shabina had helped with the menu. She hadn’t been alone in the planning. Her friends had sat around with her, thinking up different foods they liked to eat at bars when they were dancing. Stella wanted a place where those renting her cabins would really love to go in the evenings.