Chapter 9
Bryn
The man’s words cut off, but hatred remains in his blue eyes, chilling me to the bone. I know why he stopped when he did. I can feel the others behind me, then someone’s gentle touch to my wrist, pulling me back. A hand with ice-cold fingers. Hailey.
Luke steps directly in front of me, Brody and Liam at my side. It’s Nate that takes charge, though, stepping beside Wyatt, pressing a hand to Wyatt’s upper chest. Telling him to back down.
“You need to go.” Nate tells the man. He leaves no room for argument, holding all authority in his squared shoulders and full stance. “Now.”
The man, a blond dressed in black jeans and a brown Carhartt jacket, sneers at Nate. Disdain drips off him. “And who the fuck are you?”
“The owner of this establishment. And I’m asking you to leave,” he says, easy but commanding. Refusing to let anger show, while still owning the room. “Let’s not escalate this further.”
The man eyes Nate for a moment before looking at the other men crowded around.
He’s sitting with a couple, but they’ve both pushed their chairs back, like they were ready to flee if fists started getting thrown.
Neither of them look like they are about to back him up, and he must know that because he slowly deflates.
He’s outnumbered and he knows it.
“Fine, I was leaving anyway. This place is a fuckin’ joke, hiring useless staff like that,” he growls as a parting shot.
My jaw clenches, and I bite back my retort.
None of this would have happened if he hadn’t abruptly pushed his chair back from the table.
He slammed it right into me. I’ll have the bruise on my thigh in the morning to prove it.
Not that I was going to blame him. It happens, and he must not have seen me.
But to lose his shit like he did was uncalled for.
“You okay?” Hailey whispers to me, still gripping my arm, fingers cold like all the blood is out of her hands.
Watching the man turn and head towards the door with Nate behind him and Liam falling in line, I nod to Hailey, touching her hand with my other one.
“I’m good. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Some patrons come in here looking to be assholes, and that guy definitely falls under that category. ”
Everything has gone silent. Around me and within the bar. Like everyone is holding their breath, but when the door closes, a flurry of chatter starts up again.
Wyatt turns toward me, our eyes locking.
An unspoken question passes between us—are you okay—and I give him a small nod.
Part of me hates that he got involved because I could have handled it, especially with Nate right there, but another part of me, possibly a bigger part, wants to swoon over this man coming to my aid so quickly.
Then again, any one of the guys at the table would have done the same thing if Wyatt hadn’t gotten there first. They’re all the big brothers I never had.
Wyatt just feels different because he is different. Because I’m attracted to him.
Squatting down to clean up the mess I made, I grab a couple of glasses that luckily didn’t shatter, and as I’m reaching for the third one, a larger hand closes around it. An eagle with its wings spread looks up at me from the inside of a forearm. Wyatt, with two glasses already in his hand.
“It’s not your job to clean up,” I tell him. “But thank you.”
“Don’t mind helping out.”
I lean back on my heels and glance at him. “I could have handled that.”
“I know you were fully capable,” he says casually, reaching for another glass, and my head cocks to the side, his gaze meeting mine. “You don’t work here for as long as you have and this be your first run in with an asshole. It ain’t your first rodeo.”
Shaking my head slowly, I agree with him. “No, it isn’t.”
“Doesn’t mean backup isn’t nice.” With the last glass in his grasp, we both stand up stacking them on my tray for me to take to the bar. “It wasn’t just me who had your back, either.”
My hands itch to smooth over my stomach, to smooth the wrinkles out of my shirt that I know are bunching it up, but with my hands full, I can’t. “I know. You’re just—”
“What a dick,” Savanna says, interrupting me without realizing it. She’s got the bucket and mop with her, Jordan following behind her with a bunch of rags.
Looking down at the destruction that I caused, there’s beer, cocktails, and water forming a small lake between three different tables, most of it under the table the jerk was at.
His friends are still there, and Jordan starts talking to them, wiping up the table for them while Savanna starts on the floor. It’s a disaster.
“Sorry for such a mess,” I sigh.
Savanna glances up from the floor, her eyebrows furrowed, nose wrinkled. “You have nothing to apologize for. I saw what happened. He smashed his chair into you. The way he acted, I’m wondering if he did it on purpose. You okay?”
My eyes meet Wyatt’s again, who is holding the assaulting chair out of the way of the mop so Savanna can get under the table. He’s scrutinizing me like he doesn’t quite believe our silent exchange earlier. Or maybe he just needs to hear it out loud.
“Yeah,” I nod, keeping my focus on Wyatt. “I’ve dealt with worse. It’s not like he touched me.”
Wyatt’s jaw visibly grinds together, his nostrils flaring. He doesn’t like the thought of someone touching me, but it’s happened a handful of times in the four years I’ve worked here. Those incidents are the most nerve-wracking.
I hold up the glasses in my hands and nod to Savanna, then at Jordan who is just finishing with the table and moving onto the chair. “I’m going to get rid of these and get that order again. I’ll be back.”
I can sense Wyatt’s gaze on me the entire way to the bar, and when I’m done getting the round of drinks re-poured and turn back to the table, he’s taken up residence in the spot Liam was in all night. The perfect place to keep me in his line of sight.
My stomach swoops in the same way it did the other night at the club. It makes me feel protected, and a tension that had been building since the man first yelled at me starts to ease, my shoulders coming down from around my ears.
I like my life. I like that it’s busy with work and full of Gran during my off hours. But Wyatt?
I might like him too.