Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

“Didn’t you just leave?” she asks him with a grin that I’m fairly sure is more for my benefit than his.

“Yeah but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I figured I’d come back and say a proper hello.”

“Isn’t that sweet. What’s your name?” she asks.

“Logan. Can I buy you a beer?”

“I’m Hadley, and yes, that would be great.”

Logan turns to me and rests his elbow on the bar. “Make that two, bartender.”

“Fresh outta beer,” I deadpan.

“What the fuck you talkin’ about?”

I stare at him so hard he leans away. Unbeknownst to him, he’s not out of reach. My right hand could still smash his face before he realized I twitched.

“Did I stutter?” I ask.

Hadley sighs, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Come on, Mach. Stop it.”

“What? I can’t help I just sold my last beer to Peck.”

She rolls her eyes.

Logan gives me a curious look before turning to Hadley. “Want to head outta here and find a drink somewhere else?”

Roughing a hand over my jaw, I take in Hadley. She’s nervous as fuck, literally sitting on the edge of her seat. She has every reason to be. We’ve been in this position before. She knows how this can end. Unfortunately for the douchebag, he does not.

Hadley sighs. “Can you give me a second, Logan?”

“You don’t need a second to tell him it’s not happening,” I say.

“This is none of your business, Machlan. Stop it.”

I couldn’t care less that I don’t have a leg to stand on. Hadley is not my girl. She’s a grown ass woman who can do what she pleases. Mostly.

I’m not about to sit in my bar and watch her walk out of here with someone else, least of all this punk ass who was in here last weekend getting a blowjob by Megan McCarter. He’s the worst every night, and Hadley’s all kinds of trouble tonight.

“I’d rethink this,” I warn her.

“Come on,” Logan says, getting off the stool. “Let’s go, Hadley.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I growl, my eyes pinned on hers.

She throws her arms up. “Why do you do this?”

“Because I can.”

“Can you really?”

“Oh, Had. I assure you I can.”

She ignores Logan as he suggests a bar a couple of towns over. The way she looks at me—half as if I’m a barbarian who disgusts her and the other half as if she hopes I’ll scoop her up like a caveman and carry her out of here—is satisfying. She’s going nowhere with him, and we both know it.

“You from around here?” Peck asks Logan as Hadley and I continue our standoff.

“Not really.”

“Well, there’s this place in the town next door called Peaches. Best fucking breaded tenderloins I’ve ever had. Takes three buns to cover the whole thing unless you break it into pieces and stack it,” Peck says.

“Sounds good.” Logan gets off his stool. “Thanks for the tip.” He takes a couple of steps back, putting distance between himself and the rest of us.

Peck just carries on. “No problem. You should check them out. Get it with pickles and cheese and then add some salt. But here’s the kicker—you know what you need to eat them with?”

Logan doesn’t answer. Peck’s clearly leading him, and he’s waiting on the shoe to drop.

“Teeth,” Peck says. “And if you don’t get outta here soon, you won’t be leaving with yours.”

“Stop it, Peck.” Hadley’s eyes narrow as she sighs, returning her attention to me. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Not all the time?” I ask. “Must be losing my touch.”

“You know what, Logan? You better go without me. I … It’s … Yeah.” She crosses her arms over her chest and doesn’t bother facing the douchebag. “Sorry about the way they acted.”

I’m not. I might be sorry for a lot of things, but getting this asshole out of here without her isn’t one of them.

Logan shrugs, eyeing us warily, before heading for the door. I watch him go until he’s out of sight.

The burn of Hadley’s stare sears my cheek. If I could stand here all damn night with her glaring at me, I would. That would mean we’re in the same room, and when I’m not factoring what’s best for her, that seems preferable to not being together at all.

“He seemed like a perfectly nice guy,” Hadley says, breaking the silence. Her tone is fire and wit again, and I’d smile if it wouldn’t instigate her further. “You had no right to run him off like that.”

I scoff. “Oh, I can see how that conversation goes. ‘Yeah, Cross, I don’t know where your sister is. Yeah, she was in here last night and left with some asshat I threw out of here last weekend, but I figured it was okay because she said so.’”

“That’s true,” Peck says, sliding across the two seats between him and Hadley. “Even if that was the only reason Machlan just acted like an asshole, that excuse is true.”