The guy passes us, weaving into the crowd. Once he’s gone, Gabe’s focus turns back to me. Completely.
“Do you like the new job?” he asks, as if he didn’t just turn part wolf a second ago.
Okay, so we’re doing it this way. “I’m sure I will. We begin table reads and stuff next week, and I start meeting with Webflix for prep tomorrow.”
“Then I shouldn’t let you stay out too late,” he says, with a naughty curve to his lips.
“I suppose Ishouldbehave and go to bed early,” I say, then cross my legs and sit higher, straighter, like a very good girl.
He laughs softly. “So, it seems you think I’m a good guy. Does that mean you like good guys, Ellie?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I ask.
I’m a little unsure now of the answer, though. I thought he was this sweetheart. He had a reputation in the neighborhood as the kind of guy you’d take home to meet your mother.
At least, that was what I’d heard back home. Except the moms didn’t knowthisGabe. They knew kind, helpful Gabe. They had no idea he’s got an intense, possessive side. A side that growls like he’d rip the head off anyone who looked at me the wrong way.
My pulse spikes at the thought, so I give my answer an addendum. “So I guess I’ll just surprise you too.”
He slides his arm around me and squeezes my waist. “Sweetheart, you are full of surprises,” he says.
His fingers are kindling. They stoke the flames inside me. My skin turns hot. I can’t believe I thought lawn games would be Gabe’s speed.
Maybe I’ll ask him after I finish this glass. We turn to small talk about my new home, and when I finish my wine, I excuse myself for the ladies’ room, heading down the dark corridor in the back to freshen up.
But after I wash my hands and leave the bathroom, the red-haired man is waiting for me in the dimly lit hall, right across from the ladies’ room.
My guard goes up.
“Aren’t you Ellie Snow?” he asks, stepping closer, his tone pushy.
Warning bells sound.
“Yes, I am,” I say, putting on a polite but distant smile as I quickly assess the fastest way to escape him.
But he stands between me and the exit. It’s a level three now. His eyes travel over my body in an unwelcome tour, and I cross my arms protectively.
“I had such a crush on you inUnfinished Business,” he says. “Never missed an episode. Any chance you’d want to go out with—”
“Not a chance in hell. She’s with me.”
Like a superhero appearing out of nowhere, Gabe’s laying down the law as he stalks down the corridor, prowling toward the man.
My heart beats in my throat. But whether it’s from the thought of what the guy might do or Gabe might do, I don’t even know.
The redhead holds up his hand. “Chill, man. I didn’t know you were with her.”
“The fuck you didn’t,” Gabe growls. “You saw her with me at the bar.”
“Dude. Back off,” the guy says defensively. “She smiled at me. I figured she wanted to meet me too.”
Seriously? “I was being polite,” I say, incredulous.
“She’s polite. You’re not.” Gabe gets up in the guy’s face now.
“You could let her make her own decisions,” the man says to Gabe.
Another growl. “It’s not an advanced concept, man. Just basic decency. Don’t hit on a woman in the dark back hallway of a bar, especially when she’s on a date with another man.” Then he turns to me, asking, “Or, gee, sweetheart. Am I wrong? Did you want his number?”