“Yep.” His stare was steely.
Cassidy startled, at a loss. “Yep? Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.”
Her mouth sagged open—no denial, no shame, no defense, nothing. She demanded, “Why?”
“To make a point.” His jaw tensed and he indicated Fred with a jerk of his chin. “He’s a line of defense, but he can’t stop anything…” Mac shifted against the frame, and her eyes flew away from him, but not before darting down first; it was unavoidable, looking at him.
Mac continued, “As trained as he is, as much noise as he would make, as hard as he would fight to defend you, he’s one dog. And he’s nothing against a gun. Don’t make his job harder.”
Cassidy bowed her head, ashamed, looking at the German shepherd standing faithfully beside her, whose happy eyes were fixed on the man behind the screen door.
“So lock your damn doors,” he said harshly.
She felt like a heel. She’d wanted to scold him, to dare him to take her dog if that would keep him out of her life—not that she’d have gone through with giving up Fred—but now she felt awful. His point was valid. She’d been careless.
“You have a habit of not taking care of yourself.”
Her eyes lifted to his. She was surprised his words would echo her thoughts… and that he would notice. Or care. Her expression softened.
Lowering a hand, holding out his palm to ward off any feelings of sentiment, Mac assured her with a twist to his lips, “That’s an observation, don’t be mistaken. I don’t care about your drama; the shit Jason is all up your ass over. The only thing I’m interested in is what it would take to get you to push those tiny straps down and untie those pants.”
“Wha—?” she stammered. The conversation had turned on a dime. Once again, her gaze darted to his penis, and she wanted to slap herself. Why did she have to keep looking?
“Don’t fool yourself, and don’t try to play innocent. It’s notthatcold out here.” His eyes slid pointedly down to where her nipples strained against the thin cloth of her camisole. They tightened even more under his heated gaze prompting a satisfied quirk from him.
Crossing her arm over her chest, she gave him what she hoped was an indignant look. “How dare you?”
“You come over here, tits practically out, and you’re blaming me for looking at what you have on display? No, sweetheart. I didn’t invite you over, but I sure as fuck am gonna look.”
Distracted and disoriented now, Cassidy half turned away to go. She’d come here to give him a piece of her mind, and somehow, she was the one feeling as though she’d done something wrong. With a look back at his hard features, she pointed at him and ordered, with little bite behind her nervous-sounding words, “Don’t do that again.”
His eyes narrowed. “Which part?”
Cassidy turned away fully this time, heading toward the steps. She was out of sorts now, alarmed by her reaction to him, by how she couldn’t form a coherent thought. She would chalk it up to his lack of attire—he was attempting to knock her off her game. Hehadknocked her off her game. But confronting a naked person would be enough to disorient anyone. She would’ve responded the same no matter who it had been. Or at least, that’s what she wanted to believe.
At the bottom of the stairs, she threw back, “Just stay away.”
Blessedly, there was no comeback from him. She was able to make a clean escape.
Chapter ten
Cassidy
GONNA BE DAY TO ME
TheNorthernwashavinga slow night. Cassidy wiped down the bar top for the third time, looking around the space. It wasn’t remarkable; it didn’t need to be, it just needed to serve its purpose: alcohol and a good time. Darlene was able to provide both without putting too much into the ambiance.
Red vinyl padded stools were staggered around the bar. High-backed wooden booths with wooden benches lined the wall near the bar, which helped add privacy to the bar side, creating the alcove. Interspersed near the bar were four-tops.
A digital jukebox resided in the far corner, opposite the bar, along the same wall as the entrance. A smallish dance floor was in front of it, low tables forming the perimeter. A disco ball and disco lights over the area would strobe and flash in time to whatever music was playing. Green paint covered the windows.
Darlene had upgraded the outside space by fencing off a part of the back alley and setting out plastic tables and chairs. Voilà: a beer garden. Mostly, only the smokers hung out in the back. If they propped the door open, the smoke would filter into the bar, forcing one of the bartenders to go back and get hassled over shutting it.
Cassidy had to take it on faith that The Northern resembled southern bars. She had often wondered if Darlene had named it The Northern, not because they were in the north, on the north side of the lake, and it was located on the north side of the street, but as a personal “fuck you” to her rough southern past.
The christening aside, The Northern was very clean (despite the more nefarious activities rumored to take place inside).