“Okay, see you there.” Mia grinned, in a way that made it clear she realized Bubba wanted time alone with Marisol, before taking Sawyer’s hand and starting out the door.
“But we’re dancing when we get to the Ticklish Iguana,” Tulsi warned him, pointing a finger at his face as she walked by. “My mama is going out of town for the rest of the summer, Bubba. Unless Daddy decides to have mercy on me, I won’t have a babysitter again for two months, so I mean to stay out late and boogie.”
“You should,” Bubba said with a smile. “You looked good out there.”
“Why, thank you.” Tulsi’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “I decided I’m tired of worrying what everyone thinks of me all the time. I can be a good mom and still cut loose a little now and then.”
“Absolutely,” Marisol agreed. “You deserve a break. Moms are the hardest working people I know.”
Tulsi turned to Marisol with the easy grin usually reserved for her close friends. “I agree. But even if I didn’t, I’m having too much fun to stop.” She headed for the door with a giddy laugh, but Bubba caught Marisol’s arm before she could follow.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, with a smile that didn’t warm her eyes. “I can talk and walk.”
“Alone,” he clarified, holding on to her elbow as Tulsi disappeared through the swinging doors.
Marisol lifted a brow. “What’s on your mind?”
“I…I feel like I should apologize for something, but I’m not sure what.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Marisol said in a neutral voice that made it clear her shields were fully functional once more. “Everything’s fine, and your friends are really nice. I swung into Mia’s shop after I finished catching up on email. We hit it off right away.”
“I’m glad.” And he was, though he wished he didn’t feel out of the loop all of a sudden. “You should have told me you were going to stop by Mia’s. I could have met you two for lunch or something. I’ve been wanting to introduce you.”
“Well, I saved you the trouble,” she said, slipping free of his touch and backing toward the door. “Now let’s go see what else this one horse town has to offer. So far, I’m impressed. Way more nightlife on a Monday night than I expected.”
Bubba was about to follow her, and put off the serious talk until they were alone at the house later tonight, when one of the guys from the table in the corner—a long, lean man with acne scars on his cheeks and jet black hair slicked away from his forehead—appeared in front of the door, blocking Marisol’s path.
“You aren’t leaving yet, are you, sweetheart?” he asked in a lazy drawl. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you to dance.”
Marisol smiled. “Maybe next time. I’m out with the girls tonight.”
“He doesn’t look like a girl.” The man’s flat eyes flicked in Bubba’s direction before returning to Marisol. “Is he bothering you? If so, I’d be happy to help him find somewhere else to be.”
“No, it’s fine. We’re friends,” Marisol said. “But not close friends.”
“And we’re leaving,” Bubba said, putting his arm around her waist, her “close friends” quip changing his mind about putting their talk off until later. They obviously needed to clear the air, and he didn’t intend to do it in front of a bar full of men circling Marisol like vultures.
“Actually, maybe I’ll stay.” Marisol spun out of his grasp. “You’d probably like some time alone with your friends, so—”
“Come on, Marisol,” Bubba said, not liking the way Greasy Hair Guy was sidling up beside her. He liked it even less when the man put his hand on the small of her back.
There was no way in hell he was leaving Marisol here alone with a man like that and his slimy friends. She was leaving, even if he had to tote her out of the bar over his shoulder.
Knowing Marisol, and how stubborn she was once she dug her heels in, it would probably come to that…
Might as well cut right to the chase.
Without another word, Bubba squatted down and tipped Marisol over his shoulder in one smooth movement. He was out the door before she could do more than gasp in surprise, and thudding down the steps leading to the saloon a moment later.
“Put me down,” she said, slapping his back as he walked. But she didn’t hit hard, and she didn’t sound like she really wanted to be put down.
She sounded breathless, and maybe even secretly glad Bubba had taken matters into his own hands. It made him think of the way she’d melted in his arms the first time they’d kissed, and wonder if maybe it wasn’t the fact that he’d taken charge that spooked her, but how much she’d enjoyed it. Right now, he couldn’t say one way or the other, but before the night was through, he intended to find out what Marisol really wanted—a business partner and friend, or a man who knew exactly what to do when a woman decided to give up control.
CHAPTERSIX
You will not be turnedon. You will not be turned on. You will NOT be turned on!