He pushed off the Scout. “Go back to work.”
She peered up at him from beneath the bill of her hat.
“Go back, before I remind us both you said yes.”
Air left her lungs and her world tilted. His voice was strained, wistful. Or was that what she wanted to hear? Was she wrapped up in the romantic gesture of him beating up a guy to defend her?
Her eyes on his, she stepped back. “Take care of your hand.”
She didn’t want to go; she didn’t want to leave him in the parking lot.
He held up the injured appendage and smirked. “Dar let me off easy; you get the paperwork.”
Oh, right. There was an entire mess back at the bar she was going to have to help sort out.
“The benefit of being a good lay,” he added.
With a disgusted snort, Cassidy turned on her heel. “You ruin everything, Mac.”
“Problem is, you thought we were having a moment when we weren’t,” he called after her.
Cassidy raised a hand and flipped him off. His chuckle irritated her even more. At the corner, she glared back at him, but he was moving to the driver’s side of his Scout. She’d already been dismissed.
Her stomach twisted because he was right; she had wanted it to be a moment. He’d defended her, hit her attacker. How was it not supposed to mean something? And seconds later, he’d had the gentlest look in his eyes as he’d caressed her cheek. Jesus, it’d been so hard not to throw herself into his arms.
There was somethingprimalin the response of a man defending a woman, and something possessive about a man protecting a woman so demonstratively; physically. Well, she had no choice but to shake it off. He didn’t want to make a thing of it—and didn’t wantherto. She wanted to call him a prick for that, but she couldn’t.
Back at the bar, Darlene had already made a deal with David to make sure things didn’t get further out of hand: he wasn’t going to bring charges against Mac in exchange for Cassidy not bringing charges against him. And she banned him.
Cassidy got back to work, trying to help Jemma get out from under the stack of orders. Returning to her position, running orders on the floor, she noticed she wasn’t touched once, even though Mac was no longer in the bar. Her heart warmed as she remembered his warning.
Darlene returned and switched positions with Jemma, bringing Cassidy her orders. She placed a couple of beers on the tray as she looked across the bar at her. “Have you got something to say?”
Cassidy’s gaze dropped. “I’m so sorry, Darlene. I don’t know how that got so out of hand.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you think I’m blaming you because some asshole grabbed your puss? Hell no! I’m glad Mac punched him.” She leaned over the bar toward Cassidy. “You weren’t gone very long, is all I’m saying.”
Cassidy frowned in confusion.
“I’m just saying, I’d have at least given the man head for what he did. Didn’t seem like you were gone long enough unless he went off like a rocket the moment your mouth—”
“Darlene! We did not have sex!”
She stood back, appearing offended that her suggestion wasn’t taken seriously. “You jammed out of here pretty fast.”
“To say thank you; to see if he was okay.”
“He’s a grown-ass man who punched another grown-ass man; he’s fine. And as far as thank you… well, there’s thank you, and there’sthank you.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but he got the generic version.”
“I’m not the one who’s probably disappointed.”
Cassidy pulled the tray toward herself. “He told me to go away.”
“What? Why?”
Cassidy smirked. “Paperwork.”