She released him, and he dropped to the bar with a groan before straightening up.
“You bitch,” he muttered.
I grabbed his arm, yanking him close. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.” I glared at him. “It’s time you were leaving, Wes.”
“Why don’t you fuck off and mind your own business, Reynolds? I was just talking.”
I turned my head, meeting the wide gaze of the girl. “You interested in hearing him talk?”
“Unless it’s an apology before he leaves, no.”
I turned back to him with a smirk. I liked her sass. “You have your answer.” I leaned forward, dropping my voice. “Leave now, while you can still walk.”
He cursed and spun on his heel, shoving through the crowd. My eyes followed his path until he stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him.
I turned and smiled at the girl. “Sorry about that. A few idiots around here have no manners. You should be fine now.”
I began to move away, and her hand shot out, landing on my arm. “Wait.”
I glanced down where her fingers lingered on my skin. Pale against the tanned color of my forearm. Surprisingly delicate, given the punishment they’d just inflicted on Wes. I was taken aback at her touching me since most people steered clear of doing so.
“Thank you.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Can I—” She cleared her throat. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Not needed.”
“Please.”
I couldn’t say no to her pleading eyes, and frankly, I really didn’t want to. She had yet to remove her hand from my arm, and I had to admit, I liked how it felt when she touched me. I sat beside her, and Vanessa came over, sliding a beer my way.
“On the house. Thanks for taking out the garbage.”
I picked up my glass. “He took himself out.”
Vanessa placed a glass of wine in front of the girl. “On the house for you too. I like your style.”
The girl picked up her wine with a shaking hand. “That’s the second time in as many days I’ve had to rely on my self-defense class. I’ve never used it until now…” She trailed off.
I lifted my glass in a toast. “Always a first time.”
She was quiet, seemingly in thought.
I sensed a story there. I assumed she’d been hassled already this week, but I stayed quiet.
She turned to me, holding out her hand. “Thank you, Reynolds, for coming over. I appreciate it.”
I looked at her hand, then had to tease her. “Is that safe?”
She laughed, the sound light. “Yes.”
I shook her hand. “You’re welcome.” Then I furrowed my brow. “I think Vanessa said your name was Lynn?”
She shrugged and muttered something about it being close enough. Then she grinned, making two deep dimples in her face appear. They were right by the corners of her full lips, making her expression mischievous. “You asked her my name?”
“You remembered mine,” I responded drolly.
She chuckled. “Vanessa missed part of my name. It’s Charlynn.”
“Pretty.”
She shrugged. “A mouthful.”
“Maybe I’ll stick to Red. It’s easier.”
She didn’t say anything or object. We studied each other, our gazes locked in silence. Up close, she was even prettier than I’d thought. Her wide eyes were intelligent and warm. Her lips full and pink. Kissable. She was dressed casually, but her green T-shirt set off her hair and eyes. It pulled tight across her high breasts, dipping low in the front to show her cleavage. The freckles on her face were more than a small smattering, extending down her neck and arms, little trails of cinnamon over her ivory skin. She was extremely sexy, and I felt an odd draw to her. I had to admit, I had felt it the moment she ran into me.
And now, she was flirting with me.
“You gonna give me my hand back?” she asked.
I looked down, shocked to realize I was still holding it.
“You gonna tell me why these hands need to be registered as a lethal weapon this week?” I responded, then mentally kicked myself.
Why did I want to know that? And why was I flirting back?
She looked down at our hands, slowly pulling hers away. She sighed, taking a drink of wine. “It’s been a bad week.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t getting personal.”
She glanced to the side, her eyes dancing. “No, I don’t mind telling you. I’m just not sure how you’re going to take it.”
I leaned one elbow on the bar, facing her. “Try me.”
Ten minutes later, I was laughing so hard, I could barely sit on my stool. Her story about her asshole of a landlord and how she handled him was brilliant. When she got to the part about the beer, then the mouse, I lost it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed that hard. She didn’t tell me what led up to the altercation, and I knew she wasn’t giving me the entire story, but what she had shared was priceless. I had a feeling this was a girl who would keep a man on his toes.