Best Man Under the Mistletoe

The guy slurred his words as the reek of alcohol wafted off him. Before Gabe could make a move, Chelsea rammed her elbow into the man’s stomach, causing him to grunt and double over.

“You don’t have to be a b—”

Gabe reached down, grabbing the guy by the throat and pulling up so he could look him in the eye. He wanted this jerk to know exactly who was threatening him.

“Get the hell out of here and don’t come back. If I see you near Chelsea—if I even think you’ve spoken her name—you will find out just how difficult your life can be. Are we clear?”

Daniel came up beside Chelsea, wrapping an arm around her. Gabe knew she was fine, but he wanted the trash taken out.

Yanking the guy by the back of the neck, Gabe escorted him to the door and made sure he headed toward the parking lot. No way in hell was he going to allow Chelsea to continue living with this black mark over her. Everything that had happened to her wasn’t her fault, but the fault of his uncle.

Gabe wished the old bastard wasn’t gone because he’d go kick his ass and knock some sense into him. How did one even get revenge on a dead man? Rage was a difficult emotion to control, but Gabe forced himself to breath in and out and get back to Chelsea without ripping someone’s head off.

Chels was a strong woman, but there were only so many times someone could be knocked down, and in public, no less. Damn it all. Even though none of this was his fault, it was his family member who had set this ball in motion, ruining lives.

That was all in the past now and Gabe was hell-bent on making sure the whole nightmare stayed that way. The town was moving on. These people were moving on. Until that jerk made a scene, this party was proof that every one of his friends had found their own happiness despite Dusty’s antics.

Gabe stepped back into the main room and made a beeline for Chelsea, who sat on a bar stool beneath a large bundle of mistletoe. It was almost as if he was being given the green light.

Several friends surrounded her: Erin, Brandee, Shane and her brother Daniel. Gabe didn’t care how rude he was or what others thought. The whole secrecy thing be damned. He wanted her to know she wasn’t alone and he wasn’t just consoling her as a pal. No, he planned on consoling her like her lover.

Pushing past Shane, Gabe reached for Chelsea. Her eyes went wide when she spotted him and he wondered exactly what she saw written all over his face. Most likely, she saw every blasted thought racing through his head. Every instinct in him wanted to haul her out of there, but throwing her over his shoulder would only piss her off more.

Gabe said nothing as he framed her face and captured her mouth. He swallowed her shocked gasp and eased her to her feet. Cheers and music surrounded them, but he blocked everything out except Chelsea’s sweet taste.

When he feathered the kiss and released her lips, her lids took an extra moment to open. Desire and surprise stared back at him.

“Well, that was unexpected,” she muttered. “Guess we’re not keeping this private anymore.”

Gabe grabbed her hand. “We’re leaving.”

“Don’t be absurd, Gabe. We—”

He shot her a look that shut her up immediately.

“Go,” Brandee stated from behind him. “The party is almost over, anyway.”

“And we paid for people to clean up,” he reminded her, never taking his eyes from Chelsea.

Her lips thinned as she nodded and gripped his hand.

Gabe turned to find Daniel with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed.

“That dart game is going to have to wait,” Gabe stated as he pushed by.

Daniel’s eyes went to his sister. “Chels.”

“I’ll call you later,” she told him.

Later? Maybe tomorrow. Right now they were going to be alone, away from people, phones. The world. Gabe wasn’t in a sharing mood.

Something about having another man put his hands on his woman and terrorize her made Gabe even more protective, even more territorial, than ever.

Hadn’t he wanted to keep this purely physical? Hadn’t he wanted to keep things private?

Well, apparently manhandling the jerk who’d approached her and then kissing Chelsea beneath the mistletoe had blown that plan all to hell. But he’d answer everyone’s questions another time.

Chelsea was his for another week and he damn well planned to take every opportunity to show her just how a woman should be treated. She deserved everything and, for now, he was going to be her everything. Once the wedding was over, well, he’d worry about that when the time came.