Savage Love (Heatstroke Hearts Book 3)

Chapter 5

I sitin a booth in Longhorn’s with a glass of sweet rosé, my nerves shot. Each sip helps me feel a little better, and June’s company does too. Our table flanks the dancefloor, which is surprisingly full for a Sunday night. Lights flash, the warm thump of bass moves through the back of my seat, and I exhale through my nose.

At least I told them. And nobody threw a tantrum. Unless you counted Cash’s man tantrum, or mantrum as I like to call it.

“It’s going to be fun,” June says, leaning in and catching my attention, her smile bright. “I can’t wait.” She swivels her wine glass slowly by the stem then drinks from it.

“I can,” I mumble. “I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this.”

Cash and Savage are over at the bar, and I glare at the back of my brother’s head. Mostly because it keeps me from looking at Savage, or thinking about how embarrassed I am on so many levels.

“You’ve always wanted to learn self-defense, right?”

“I wanted to learn boxing,” I say, after a beat. “But Dad never let me when I was a kid.” And then when I hit adulthood, it felt like there were more important things to do. Like study or manage things at the library or help keep our family together after Mom died.

My throat tightens, and I give June a wobbly smile. “I just can’t stand the thought of it,” I say.

June takes my hand and squeezes. “What, Han?”

She’s older than me, Marci is too, but they’re both my best friends now. “Being around him. I thought I would be over this by now. There’s nothing to get over. It’s so pathetic.”

The girls know about my inappropriate crush. I can’t hide the way I feel from them, and June is sworn to secrecy. She won’t tell Cash anything I say because we’re all about girl code.

“It is not pathetic. The heart wants what it wants. And don’t worry, I’m going to be there,” June says. “I’ll act as an awkwardness buffer or whatever you want to call it. I’ve got your back.”

“You’re the best.”

June and I clink our glasses together and take a drink.

“Ugh, I wish Marci was here,” I say. “Or Belle. I miss her so much.” Belle studied with me during college, which was the only time I ever left Heatstroke.

“I miss her too,” June says. “She was so much fun. Have you heard from Lily? She’s gone super quiet in the group chat.”

“No,” I say. “But I think it’s got something to do with her big secret. The show.”

“You think it’s a show?”

“I mean, probably. It makes sense. She is a reality TV star,” I say. “And knowing my luck, I am too. Just for all the wrong reasons.”

“I’m sure they’re not going to air you spraying Richard Walton with pepper bits.”

I laugh at myself. “Mortifying. But you know what, it’ll make a good story to tell Alex’s kids one day.”

The music changes, and a shadow falls across our table. We look up, and June pulls a face at the sight of Seth Deveraux, his hair cut short, and his eyes sparkling. His gaze slides from June to me.

“Enjoying your evening, ladies?” he asks.

“What’s it to you, Deveraux?” I counter.

My brother hates this guy for buying our dad’s bar, but I think that low-key saved him. If Dad had reopened Chuckles, I doubt he would’ve wound up getting clean. I don’t hate Deveraux, but I don’t trust him either. Then again, I trust a sum total of five men.

Deveraux’s sleeves are rolled up and show off his tattooed forearms. He’s clean-shaven, tall and lean, and good-looking. He knows it, too. “Given that it’s my establishment, I thought I’d check.”

“Your establishment?” June’s jaw drops. “What about Missy?”

“Missy opted to take her much overdue retirement,” Deveraux says. “She’s currently on a cruise to the Bahamas.”

“You can’t just pay everybody off,” I say, taking a sip of wine. I’m feeling brave thanks to the alcohol, which is probably a bad thing, but what the hell. After the pepper fiasco, I’ve pretty much hit rock bottom.

“Can’t I?” he asks. “Money makes the world go around.”

“What about love?” I raise my chin.

“How old are you?” Deveraux frowns at me.

“Old enough to know an ass when I see one,” I reply. “And you, sir, are a donkey of the finest kind.”

“There a problem here?” Cash appears behind Deveraux on the left. Savage on the right.

“Just wishing these ladies a good evening,” Seth says, and then mock strums a guitar at Cash before walking off.

“That guy is a giant dingus,” I say.

“Dingus?” Cash asks, as he slides in beside June, tucking her against his side.

And it hits me like a ton of bricks that if Cash is sitting next to June, then Savage has nowhere to sit but beside me, and I’m going to be trapped beside him while I die inside thinking about his arms around me, the way he smells and?—

“I gotta go to the ladies’ room.” I slide out of the booth and hoof it across the dance floor.

I don’t look back. The fact that Savage didn’t immediately slide into the seat beside me tells me everything I need to know.

In the bathroom, I slip my phone out of my pocket and check my messages. Blessedly, there aren’t any from Franklin. Belle’s left text messages in the group chat, and I read them, smiling to myself, happy about the distraction.

BELLE

Kill me now. Kill me now.

Helloooo??? Where are you bitches? I need you. Like yesterday.

Belle? What’s wrong?

BELLE

Everything.

You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.

BELLE

I got an emergency message from my boss. Apparently, I’m about to meet my worst nightmare made flesh. Some hot shot rugby player who needs a babysitter. Pray for me.

You’ll be fine. You’re the consummate professional.

I splash water on my face to freshen up, then head for the bathroom door. I push it open an inch but stop at the familiar rumble of Savage’s voice, floating above the thump of music from the dancefloor.

“… stay away from her.”

I frown and peek out.

Savage’s back is to me, his shirt stretched over taut muscles, and he’s glaring down at Seth Deveraux, who has his hand on the men’s room door. His gaze flickers past Savage’s shoulder and lands on my face, and a smile twists his lips.

“Why should I? Is she your woman or something?” Seth asks.

“No,” Savage says, and he stands stiff, like he’s ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

“Then I don’t see what the problem is here. We were just talking.”

“Don’t talk to her. She’s off-limits.” Savage’s tone is deathly serious, and I can barely believe what I’m hearing. My heart flutters.

Is he interested in me?

“Off-limits? How so? It’s a free country, and I can talk to whoever I like. So, unless you’ve got a reason for threatening me like a fucking Neanderthal?—”

Savage stiffens. “I’m her bodyguard,” he says. “I’m doing my job.”

Oh. My. God.

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and it feels as if I’m being sucked into the floor.

Seth’s gaze collides with mine again, and he’s wearing a frown. “Your job? She hired you to be her bodyguard? What for?”

“She didn’t hire me, and it’s none of your business why,” Savage says. “Just stay the fuck away from her.”

Seth reaches up and loosens his tie. “I have no interest in harming Hannah Taylor. So, you can relax, beefcake.” He pats Savage on the arm and then enters the men’s room. The door swings shut behind him.

Savage turns around, and I’m too slow and too stunned to close the door before he sees me. He freezes, and those dark eyes deepen with an emotion I can’t place.

My body heats from head to toe, and an itch crawls up my spine. “Bodyguard?” I ask, stepping out to meet him.

Savage stares down at me, frowning. He’s a huge man, and usually his presence overwhelms me, but tonight, I’ve had just enough wine and heard enough to make me so angry that I don’t care any more. It’s not like Savage and I are friends. We don’t have long conversations, though we’ve known each other for years.

He avoids me, and I do my best to avoid him because of my “feelings”.

“Bodyguard?” I repeat it, because the tension hasn’t snapped, and he hasn’t moved a muscle. “What the hell is that about?”

“Your brother hired me to look out for you,” he says. “He’s concerned for your safety, given that you have a stalker.”

And let’s add that to the layers of humiliation. Savage knows about Franklin. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Savage shrugs.

“Listen, I don’t care what Cash wants, I don’t need?—”

“No.”

“Huh?”

Savage’s chest expands as he takes in a breath. “You need protection. I’ve been asked to watch out for you, and I will. If you have a problem with that, take it up with your brother.”

“Listen, buddy,” I say, stepping up to him, trying to ignore the immediate sizzling desire that slides over my skin at the proximity. “You don’t presume to tell me what to do. I’m my own person.”

“Then do what you want,” Savage says, his gaze firmly on mine. He takes me in, looks at my lips. He is glued to me. So much eye contact it makes goosebumps rise on my skin.

“I will.”

“But you can expect me watching your back while you do.”

How dare Cash do this to me? Well-meaning or not, my brother can’t just?—

“This is for your safety,” Savage says, his words are level, almost monotone. Like he doesn’t care about me, like I’m just a job to him, and it makes this so much worse.

“You said you’ll be watching my back, right?”

Savage doesn’t even nod, he keeps that unflinching eye contact.

“So watch it while I walk away.” And then I spin on my heel and start down the hall.

I’m so pissed, I don’t even want to see my brother right now. I’m going to cause a scene in this bar if I have to discuss this with Cash.

He could have asked about the bodyguard thing. It’s not like I’m an unreasonable person. When June and Cash suggested the self-defense training, I was into it, even though it’s going to put me in close proximity with Savage. But this is a waking nightmare.

Having Savage around me all the time? I can barely handle being at potluck dinners with him. I find it difficult not to act awkward, especially after that night.

No, no, no. We are not going there.

I want my goddamn independence, and I’m going to get it.