Dean, in no particular hurry that she could see, sort of…ambled…up to Harry and his friends. The kids flanking Harry took a step back. Must be Dean’s sheer size. It couldn’t be his fierce demeanor. From what she’d seen of him, the guy was so easygoing she was surprised he didn’t slip into a coma.
“You’re ready now,” Dean said quietly.
Harry held on to the bar as if trying to remain upright. “What?”
“You said you’d go when you were ready. You’re ready now.”
“Says who?”
Allie blinked. Had she somehow been transported back to grade school? No, they weren’t a couple of ten-year-olds calling each other names. They were two very large, fully grown men facing off in front of her.
Dean kept his hands loose at his sides. “Bar’s closed.”
“Back off.” The guy punctuated his statement by shoving him in the chest.
Dean took a step back to keep his balance, and Allie tightened her grip on the bat, her pulse skittering. But instead of losing his temper, he looked at Harry’s friends. “You’d better get your buddy out of here before he lands all of your asses in jail.”
Harry sneered. “Why don’t you go back to the range or wherever you came from?” He leaned forward and knocked Dean’s hat right off his head.
Oh, Harry, that wasn’t a smart move.
“Kid,” Dean said with a quiet intensity that made her shiver, “you have a lot to learn. The first of which being don’t ever touch another man’s hat.” He stepped forward. The two smarter ones backed up. “Now, you’ve got two seconds to get your butt out of this establishment—”
“Or what?” Harry asked, with more beer-induced bravado than brains.
Dean actually grinned. A dangerous and—okay, sexy—grin that said please give me an excuse so I can smash your head in.
Not that she blamed him. After all, Harry had knocked his hat off.
“Or else I escort you out personally,” Dean said, making no doubt that it wasn’t a statement, but a promise.
The two men stared each other down. Tension filled the room; the threat of violence permeated the still air.
Allie cleared her throat. “I hate to interrupt this testosterone battle, but do you want me to call the police?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dean said, never taking his attention off the kid. “Will it, Harry?”
“No,” Harry grumbled after a moment. His friends, sensing their chance, took hold of his arms and started pulling him backward. “This bar sucks, anyway.”
She loosened her grasp on the bat. Crisis averted. Thank God.
Or it was until Harry wrenched free of his friends and swung wildly at Dean’s head.
She gasped and raised the bat to her shoulder, but Dean didn’t need her coming to his rescue. In one smooth move he stepped to the side, pulled his arm back and punched Harry. Allie grimaced at the crunching sound of bone hitting bone as Dean’s fist connected with the drunk’s nose.
Harry groaned and slid to the floor in a heap.
Allie’s palms were so sweaty the bat slipped out of her grip and hit the floor with a loud bang. But nobody seemed to notice. Harry’s friends stared wide-eyed at Dean, and Harry…well, poor Harry wasn’t doing anything except bleeding. While Dean stood there, big and imposing and a little scary, with his hands clenched.
He then raised an eyebrow at the two friends. They both shook their heads.
Holy cow. The man was like some Chuck Norris wannabe. No wonder he’d patted her on the head when she’d tried to talk him out of confronting Harry and his buddies. From what she’d just seen, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out he could’ve taken all three of the younger men at the same time.
Her initial reaction to Dean had been right. There was way more to him than met the eye.
Dean snatched up his hat, sat it on his head and knelt next to Harry, who had come to enough to moan. “Another thing you need to learn,” he told the kid cheerfully, “is not to start a fight you have no chance of winning.”
WHY DID HE ALWAYS GET stuck working with the softhearted ones? In the last year he’d done jobs for both an inner city teacher whose students ran all over her, and a youth pastor in a small town who wanted to save the kids in his flock from the fires of hell. Too bad the kids were more concerned with having fun than being saved.
Dean shook his head and picked out two bottles of tequila from the supply closet. Once Harry had come around, Allie had hovered over the kid. She’d given him ice for his swelling and cut nose, asked if he needed some pain reliever. Then she’d spoken in depth to Harry’s friends, making sure one of them was sober enough to drive. Luckily, the skinny kid was the designated driver or else she probably would’ve made Dean play chauffeur.
“Did you have to punch him so hard?” she asked as soon as he came back into the room.
“Next time someone takes a swing at me,” he said as he added the tequila to the stock behind the bar, “I’ll politely ask him to stop.”
She crossed her arms. “I just hope he doesn’t try and bring you up on charges of aggravated assault. You can claim self-defense, but he might counter that you used excessive—”
“I have a right to protect myself.”
“Sounds like you know your law.”
“I know my rights,” he said, keeping his cool. “You’re the one who’s talking like a lawyer or something.”
She blushed. “That’s because I am a lawyer.”
Even though he already knew about her past as a defense attorney, he played along. “You’re a lawyer and a bar owner?”
“No.” She picked up a rag and wiped off the already clean bar. “I…changed careers about a year ago.”
He leaned against the counter. “Is your career change working out for you?”
She glanced up at him, a loose strand of hair curved over her cheek. “Oh, yeah. It’s been great. Really, really, really great.”
Uh-huh. All those reallys weren’t fooling anyone.
“Were you any good?”
Her eyes grew sad for a moment. “Yeah. I was very good.”
He watched her carefully. “Must’ve been hard to give it up.”
The corners of her mouth turned up in a fake smile. “I needed a change.”
And if that was the truth, the next time some drunk took a swing at him, Dean would let him connect. “What kind of law did you practice?”
“Criminal. So, I take it you excelled in the marines?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to go along with the change in subject. He knew when to let something drop and when to push. Besides, he had plenty of time to get to know Allie. To learn all of her secrets.
Using the broom she’d brought out, he swept behind the bar. “Why do you say that?”
“Uh, because of the way you flattened poor Harry. You must’ve gotten an A+ at hand-to-hand combat.”
“Poor Harry?” Dean shook his head, kept sweeping. “First of all, subduing a drunk civilian doesn’t take much skill. Secondly, weren’t you the one who wanted poor Harry’s butt hauled off to jail?”
She sprayed disinfectant onto