Rough Ride: A Small Town Bad Boy Romance

So, for now, all I can do is do what any self-respecting guy in his twenties does on a Friday night in this sleepy little town.

Tonight, we drink.

I don't plan on getting too rowdy or making a fool of myself like I once might have under the influence of one too many tequila shots, but the thought of chilling out at Tonk’s with the guys and listening to the country-rock band that Rodney was going on about today sounds like a pretty decent way to pass the time Izzy needs to come to the same conclusion I've already come to—that we're still meant to be together.

So, I picked up Blake and Rodney and drove to Tonk’s bar, telling myself I'd only have one and I’d make sure that the rest of my buddies got home safe. I haven't been around in a long while, so it's the least I can do to let them have a night out and let loose knowing they'd have a ride home when the music ends and last call is unannounced.

The band is good, I'll give them that. Anyone who can cover a Jason Aldean song that well is okay in my books. I've even managed to nurse the same Budweiser for the last hour without anyone giving me a hard time about needing another one. I've kept my ass plunked in this chair, pulled up to one of the tables in the far corner where I can watch the band play and amuse myself by watching everybody else get wasted while still being able to shoot the shit with the guys.

And I’ve been having a pretty good time, too.

Then, two things happen. First, I see Emily saunter through the door, followed closely by a very sexy-looking, very unsteady-on-her-feet Isabelle. The second thing that happens is I see Chad Easton on the other side of the room. I also see his eyebrows shoot up at the sight of Izzy, and a mischievous grin tugs at his mouth.

I could ignore it. Hell, I should ignore it. Isabelle isn't mine.

But she damn well isn't his, either.

Which is exactly why I keep my eye on both of the

m, watching as both girls get themselves a beer at the bar and find their way onto the dance floor. I also watch as Chad pushes and excuses his way through the throngs of people toward her, his eyes set firmly on his target.

I can tell immediately that the conversation between him and Isabelle isn't a welcomed one. At least, not to Izzy. She's drunk, a blind man could see that, but she's still adamantly trying to turn away from him, focusing her attention on Emily and the beer in her hand. Chad, however, seems to be either too buzzed to get the hint, or he's sober and just doesn't give a shit.

Either way, I'm up and out of my chair the moment I see him reach out and grab her by the arm, whirling her around to face him. Izzy's pissed by this point, but her feeble attempt to push him away only results in her intoxicated body swaying dangerously, and Chad uses it to his benefit to pull her closer to him. Isabelle's slurred demand for him to let her go hits my ears just as I push by the last person standing in my way.

“I said get your hands off me, Chad.” Izzy's voice is loud, and the people standing close by turn to stare, but I'm disgusted to see that nobody else steps up to help her out.

“I think you’d better listen to the lady,” I pipe up. I don't reach out to pull Izzy toward me, but it's a damn strong urge I have coursing through my veins.

Isabelle's eyes grow wide as she takes me in—she obviously hadn’t known I was here—but she doesn't say anything. Probably because she doesn't get the chance.

Chad has already turned toward me, a wicked grin on his face as he recognizes me. “Well, well, well, if it isn't the fucking golden boy himself.” He might be in the mood to fight me, but at least he's wisely taken his hand off Izzy's arm.

“I don't know about that,” I say through clenched teeth. “But I'm pretty sure Isabelle asked you to leave her be. I think you need to respect that.”

“You do, do you?” Chad lets out a scornful laugh, looking around as though the other folks around us might find this idea as funny as he seems to. Thankfully, the crowd that's begun to huddle around us isn't seeing the humor, either. “That's the thing, he adds with a sneer. “I really don't give a shit what you think.”

“That's your prerogative, man,” I bite out. “But you're still damn well going to care what Izzy thinks.”

Chad takes a step forward, and for the first time I can smell the liquor on his breath. “Or what, Andrews? Are you going to show up and be the one to save the damsel in distress?” He reaches out and shoves me warningly in the shoulder.

I groan inwardly. Not because it hurts, but because this is not going to end well.

“Izzy can look after herself, everyone knows that.” There’s venom in my voice now. “But there ain't no decent man around here that's going to stand by and watch you manhandle her when she's damn well not interested,” I spit out. “Now, do yourself a favor and get the fuck out of here.”

“Well, Jesus,” Chad laughs hollowly again. “Not only did you ruin things for her when weren’t here, but now you’ve got to show up and prove that you can meddle in things now, too? Shit, you've messed her up so bad she can't even be happy with anyone else.” He scoffs angrily again. “Christ, Andrews, you really are an asshole, aren't you?”

My fist hits the son of a bitch’s jaw before I consciously make the decision to punch him. A series of gasps and shrieks sound around me, but everyone takes a step back instead of jumping forward to pull me away from him. And that's fine, because it only takes one shot to knock Chad to the floor. And, judging by the way he's cupping his jaw and mumbling out a string of curse words as he lays splayed out, I'd say I don't have to worry about him getting back up anytime soon.

I look up to see Isabelle and Emily both standing there, unmoving, eyes wide as though they can't fully comprehend what just happened. “You okay?” I ask them.

Both women nod their head, still silent. Which is a bit shocking, seeing as I’m expecting Izzy to rip me a new one over getting involved. But she doesn't. Instead, she says something that shocks me even more.

“I want to go home.” The way she's staring at me while she says it tells me exactly what she's thinking, and I just nod.

“I can drive you,” I tell her. I can do whatever you want me to do.

Emily's eyes narrow, and she looks between us. “Maybe I should—”