“Not so mouthy now, huh?” one of them said.
“I already said what I wanted to say. Don’t touch the lady unless she says it’s okay. Were you going to say okay?” He checked with Chanda, just in case he could still get out of it.
“No. Definitely not.” That’s what he thought she would say. He squared his shoulders.
“The lady doesn’t want you touching her.”
“Then the lady might want to consider a different occupation.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Are you implying that bartenders don’t deserve the same social protections given to everyone else? I mean, maybe—just maybe—I could see your point if this was a strip bar, but even then, there’s no touching the bartenders and dancers. So you see, you’re making an incorrect assumption about the job requirements.”
“God. Make him shut up already,” the larger of the two said to the closer of the two—the one who pushed Doug. Hard.
Despite being ready for it, he stumbled back two steps. His fists automatically came up. Years ago, he’d taken boxing, so maybe there was some fragment of memory that would kick in to help him in this situation.
“Stop it,” Chanda said.
“He started it.” The big guy pointed to Doug who wanted to point out that he hadn’t started it. That they had started it when the guy reached across the bar and touched her. But he was saving his strength.
The smaller guy grabbed Doug’s shirt and pulled him closer. Doug moved to hit him in the stomach, but his swing was deflected and he was pushed up against the bar, the worn wood digging into his back.
It was bad enough he was about to get his ass kicked, but what really bothered him was how horribly he was going to fail this woman. He’d intended to protect her honor, but now it was likely she would have to call 911 to save his life.
Using his leg, he pulled the bar stool over. The heavy chair came slamming down on the bigger man’s foot, but also caught Doug’s shin, causing him to wince. At least he’d done something. The smaller guy had stepped away and Doug landed a shot to his jaw. The impact sent pain through his hand and up into his wrist. In his boxing days, he always wore gloves.
The big guy didn’t wait his turn and stepped around his fallen friend to take a shot. But Doug backed out of the way, just as two police officers stepped into the bar.
The skirmish dispersed pretty quickly at that point. Chanda stepped in to explain, the two assholes were ejected from the premises, and the cops gave Doug a nod of acceptance. He nodded back and set the stool back up.
“You’re my hero,” Chanda said setting a drink down in front of him. “On me.” She held out a bag of ice. “For your hand.”
“Thanks.”
“Thank you.”
He was halfway through his victory beer when Mac came back from the bank. Doug fought the urge to go tell him how careless he was leaving his employee there without some kind of weapon to defend herself. It was common knowledge drunk people often became hostile or rude.
Instead of getting in another throw down, he took a sip of his beer and let it go. His act of bravery hadn’t gone unnoticed by the nearby women. They flirted and batted their eyes at him, but he didn’t have the energy to chase after them.
He caught Chanda looking at him twice. She was probably considering a two-beer payment for his security skills, but he would take the attention as long as she provided it.
They made a few jokes about the incident. By the end of the night, she had promised to name her firstborn Doug, regardless of the sex of the child. And she had declared the date National Doug Day.
What she didn’t know was how every time she said his name he felt his chest tighten up. Maybe it was the stress from the earlier altercation.
* * * *
Chanda put the last load of glasses into the sanitizer and turned it on as Mac collected his tips. With a nod to the last remaining patron he said, “Do you want me to kick him out on his arse before I go?”
“Nah. He’s harmless.” Chanda knew for a fact Doug wasn’t drunk. She’d served him only five beers all night, and he was now stirring the remaining ice from his soda. Besides, he’d come to her rescue.
She hadn’t told Mac about the incident. No one filed a report, and she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle things. She liked this job. It gave her something to do when she wasn’t working her other job. It also gave her a steady paycheck—something sculpting and painting didn’t always offer.
When Mac was gone, she wiped off the bar and went to stand in front of Doug.
“Time for me to go, huh?” he said as if it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Soon. I have to wait until that’s done cycling. Do you want another soda?”
“No, thank you.” He pushed the glass away.
“I can’t help but notice you struck out tonight.” It had been almost painful to watch. His game wasn’t bad, but he came off too desperate.
He grinned and she noticed how adorable he was when he smiled.
“It’s quite common.”
“Maybe you try too hard.”
He made a show of looking down at his dress shirt and khakis.
“I’ve got nothing else going on. Not many women are interested in a thirty-three-year-old man who’s broke because he wants to take care of his kid.” Maybe not, but money wasn’t everything. She’d take a nice, broke guy over a rich asshole any day of the week.
“Why haven’t you ever hit on me?” she asked.
“I only hit on pretty girls,” he said, letting his shoulders sag. She frowned and let out an irritated noise. So she wasn’t every man’s cup of tea. She looked a little scary with all the piercings and tattoos. But she had nice boobs and she was put together okay. Who the hell did he think he was?
He looked up at her and his eyes went wide. Probably because she was now glaring at him.
“Oh, God. No. That didn’t come out right,” he backtracked.
She crossed her arms, pushing out her nice boobs that a certain someone must not have noticed.
“How was it supposed to come out?”
“I hit on pretty girls, because I might have a chance at a pretty girl. You’re in the beautiful woman category. I don’t hit on you because you are waaaay out of my league and it’s a waste of time.”
She stood up straighter, stunned by his compliment. She didn’t think he’d be able to talk himself out his earlier comment, but she could tell he was sincere. To keep from grinning like an idiot she bit her bottom lip, catching her lip ring between her teeth.
Doug wasn’t a bad looking guy. He had an adorable smile and nice eyes. He wasn’t buff, but he was solid. She’d heard him refer to himself as chubby, but she didn’t agree. She knew he had a nice sense of humor—and he was obviously brave. Plus he’d just called her beautiful.
“I thought maybe you weren’t into the Asian thing.” She shrugged.
“That’s not it. I’m very into the Asian thing. I mean, not to the point of it being a fetish. Just the right amount of interest.” He let out a breath and rolled his eyes. “You see now why I haven’t hit on you?”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like you have many options left. Maybe you should give it a try.”
* * * *
Doug stared at the woman for a moment, unsure what her game was. Or maybe he’d thought about