“Take your hands off her and step back.”
Bobbi froze when she heard the voice and it only managed to confuse her more than she already was. Note to self: Please don’t pound back three doubles and a couple shots of tequila on an empty stomach.
The man who held her only tightened his grip, cursing when she stomped on his foot, the wrong end of her four inch Manolos hitting the top but good.
“Back off, asshole,” he muttered. “We’re having a private party so I suggest you—”
But then the words were cut off as he was hauled backward—taking Bobbi along with him—and she barely managed to stay on her feet as the guy’s grip fell away and he landed on his ass in the middle of the dance floor.
Time rolled away as Bobbi pushed her hair off her face and stared up into the eyes of the one man she’d been avoiding for the last four months. The one man who’d stolen her heart years ago and then crushed it in less time than it took to walk out of this bar and not look back.
“Bobbi,” Shane said as he stepped forward, his tall frame draped in leather and denim. His voice was as smooth as the whiskey she’d just downed and the sound of it triggered all sorts of things inside her. Hot things. Fierce things.
Painful things.
He sported a few days worth of stubble across his strong chin, and thick espresso colored hair that was still on the long side—not exactly badass, but not exactly GQ either. His dark eyes regarded her with a blank expression and that little box inside her—the one that held Shane close, the one she never opened—expanded and then relaxed.
The fierce and hot things inside her withered away to nothing. Sh
e fucking hated that blank look. It was the same damn look he’d been giving her ever since he had shown up in New Waterford the previous fall.
Danny popped out from behind the bar and stood a few feet away, his eyes grim as he glared at her. At least his expression wasn’t blank. Nope. She had no problem reading what was going on inside his head.
Danny’s thoughts were spelled out loud and clear. Trouble.
In that moment there was a lot of things she could have said and hell, some of them could even have made sense. But as Shane Gallagher’s dark eyes moved over her slowly, starting at the top of her head and then finishing at the bottom of her toes, she said the only thing she could think of—which didn’t make much sense at all.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “It’s Vera fucking Wang, in case you were wondering.”
Chapter Four
It took a lot for Shane to control what was going on inside him. Bobbi had always tapped into that wild and crazy part of him, the one that should never see the light of day. Because when it did, shit happened and most of the time it wasn’t good.
“Good to know,” he replied, his eyes moving over the fancy dress as she stumbled slightly and nearly fell over the douche bag on the floor. She regained her balance, eyes never leaving Shane, and moved a few inches away.
The asshole who’d had his hands on her, rolled to the side and sprang to his feet, fists at the ready. But one look at Shane and he thought better of it. At six foot four, Shane had at least three inches on him and was at about ten years younger.
The guy slowly lowered his hands, muttered bitch a few times and disappeared back toward his buddies.
Bobbi stuck her tongue out and something slid out of her mouth but it was unintelligible.
Danny shook his head. “I knew it.”
“What did you know?” Bobbi retorted belligerently.
The large bartender’s cheeks jiggled as he ran his hand across the top of his nearly bald head. He leaned forward and spat. “Trouble. It’s your middle name. Always was. And even though you’ve fancied yourself up, you haven’t changed a bit.” He glanced toward Shane. “I hope you’re taking her the hell home because I want her gone.”
The fuck I am, he thought.
It was one thing to step in and make sure some stranger kept his hands off her—he would do that for any woman—but take her home? He’d stopped looking after Bobbi Jo Barker a long time ago.
Shane’s jaw clenched tight as he scowled at the bartender. “Call her a cab.”
“You’re joking, right?” Danny took a step toward him, his big, beefy frame humming with anger.
“Hey! Assholes,” Bobbi slurred. “I’m here you know. I’m not dumb or deaf or dumb or,” she blew out a breath. “Whatever I am.”
Shane ignored her. He refused to look straight into eyes that were like the tracking devices from those old Star Trek movies. They’d lock onto him and he’d be lost. And Shane Gallagher was done being lost. He’d just started to find his way again and damned if Bobbi was going to fuck with that.