He’d wanted her here, but not like this. After he’d thanked her—it hadn’t been easy, but she’d deserved to hear it—her attitude had dialed back. Then a group of upper crust men had invaded, flashing money, Rolex’s, and easy smiles.
The night started to go another way. Their leader, a pretty boy named Roman—she’d laughed his name loud enough for him to hear—had been taken with her; who the fuck wouldn’t be? They’d joked around, he’d bought her shots, she’d played darts with them.
Fuck’s sake.
When they went out back, he almost lost his mind. Those men were looking for an easy time. Day was not that.
He wouldn’t begrudge her doing what she wanted to do; fuck who she wanted to fuck. Hell, they had no obligation to one another. But the designer-label squad was getting her drunk—she was going there willingly, sure—but he was not about to let anything happen to her. Day wasn’t an easy lay.
He tried not to snicker at the rhyme. But it was the truth; she was a woman who felt—too much—and those asshole would have abused her. More than he did. At least he took care of her; looked out for her.
And Darlene wasn’t watching out for her, that was obvious.
He’d do the same for any of the ladies tending The Northern, he comforted himself, ignoring the voice in his head calling bullshit. He would; he’d see them safely home…
They’d made a scene leaving. One of pretty boy’s friends had hit on her in the hallway—he’d called it, their ill-intent. It happened just as Mac was exiting the bathroom. He’d watched the situation, noticed Cassidy weaving on her feet, noticing the predatory look in the other man’s eyes, and a decision was made. He wasn’t leaving without her. Or Fred.
Darlene had eyed them, challenging, as he’d passed the bar. “Staking a claim, Mac?”
He’d groused back, “She a plot of land? Fuck off, Darlene.”
Cassidy stumbled after him, not that she had much choice with his grip on her arm. “I don’t understand.”
“Just not who I thought you’d be leaving with tonight, baby girl.”
“Nice,” Mac called back. He was furious that she’d have let Day go home with one of those rapey shits while drunk, but he’d have a chat with Dar another time about it. He was a kinda surprised; Darlene was better than this, looking out for her girls.
The night had been quiet as they’d walked up the sidewalk toward the alley. She’d babbled about how well he took care of Fred. He told her she’d regret saying that in the morning. She commented on how warm the sidewalk looked. Drunk chatter. He could hear her fingernails dragging along the brick building.
Without warning, she became a dead weight.
“Thefuck?“ Mac had cursed, being jerked around as she crumbled to the ground. “The hell you doing, Day?”
“I’m tired. Leave me.”
“I ought to,” he threatened, but he’d yanked her to her feet, ignoring her protests. Bending, he effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder. She let out a startled squeal.
“Warn me before you throw up.”
“I’m upside down,” she squeaked.
“Never a dull moment, sweetheart.”
She’d kicked weakly, which earned her a firm clap on her buttocks. “Stay still.” Although he wouldn’t have minded if he had to smack her again. He did enjoy slapping her ass. But this wasn’t playtime.
She responded with an “Oh!” and had struggled to stabilize herself by grasping on to his waistband.
At his truck, he’d deposited her in the front seat,déjà vucoming over him as he shoved her in and ordered Fred into the back. She rolled on the bench, curling up on her side. He climbed into the driver’s side.
“My boat.”
“Tomorrow,” he’d said. Her boat, her purse, and her keys; they’d need to go back for all of it. He’d left the bar with her and Fred, all that mattered.
Halfway around the lake, she’d passed out.
So here he was, on his kitchen floor with Fred. He tried not to think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there tonight. Would she have left with one of them? Not the dude hitting on her; she’d been repulsed. But the pretty boy, Roman… she’d been getting along with him. They’d talked for hours.
He’d made her laugh.