Chapter Eleven #2
Instead, it felt like a promise he was already making.
* * * * *
Summer carried a tray of beers through the Stockyard, her steps matching the beat of the country music rolling through the speakers. The dinner crowd thickened around the bar and boots scraped over old wood floors.
Usually the noise helped to make the night go faster, but tonight her mind kept wandering back to earlier when Vander and Ben went outside with her father to check out the RV, leaving her and her mother alone to talk.
Which really ended in her mother saying things she never thought she’d hear.
She stopped beside table twelve and set down two beers, smiling and going through the motions of keeping customers happy and hopefully getting a big tip. But her mother’s conversation kept replaying in her head.
Her mother had shocked her. Not because she approved of Vander—that part was obvious from the second he helped with the meal and assisted Ben with cutting his food.
No, the shocking part had been learning her parents barely dated before marriage.
Thinking about her parents only knowing each other for three months before they jumped into marriage wasn’t information she’d ever heard before.
Three months and apparently her mother just knew.
“How?” she’d asked, wiping down the table.
Her mother smiled faintly but the memory lit up her eyes with a glow. “Because your father made my life steadier the second he walked into it.”
The words settled deep in her chest, where they rattled around as she grabbed another order from the bar kitchen.
Then came the harder part of the discussion, the part that still felt like a cramp in her stomach.
“Stop blaming yourself for what your ex did.”
Her mother had never spoken so plainly to her, not even at the time Michael left. She didn’t hold anything back when she blamed the man who lied and abandoned them.
Every time she thought about it, fresh tears stung her eyes. She’d spent so many years carrying humiliation alongside heartbreak. Kicking herself for not seeing it coming.
Now, setting a basket of piping hot fries on table nine, she couldn’t help but think it was time to let go of her past.
As she swung away from the table, she glanced toward the back. Vander sat playing poker with the usual crowd. Just seeing his handsome face sent a wave of affection through her whole body, and it felt stronger now that she knew her parents liked him.
One thing weighed on her, though. Nothing had happened since the tires or the groceries. The threat that brought Vander into her world seemed to have fizzled.
She trusted the Black Heart Security team. They were still investigating the incidents, and they must see enough reason for Vander to continue protecting her.
But what if the trail had gone cold?
Every day that passed without answers should have reassured her. Instead, a small selfish part of her worried that eventually Black Heart would decide she didn’t need protecting anymore.
That Vander would move on.
The thought bothered her far more than it should have.
She stopped beside a high-top table where a man perched on his stool, grinning at her with that hazy half-drunk expression she’d seen too many times to count. He was a local in his mid-forties who came in often enough she recognized him but not enough to know his name.
“There she is.”
She’d seen him sitting at the bar for the last hour and he’d moved to the table, probably hoping to continue being served when he was already nearing his limit.
He gave her a long once-over that made her feel like she needed a shower.
“What can I get you?” she asked evenly.
“Another beer.” His tongue darted out. “And maybe your number.”
She ignored that entirely and reached for the empty bottle. “I bet you’d like some fries with that.” The potatoes would help soak up some of the alcohol in his system.
“Sure, sweetheart. I’d like you with a side of fries.” His hand landed on her hip.
Spine stiffening, she stepped out of reach. “Don’t.”
He lifted both hands with exaggerated innocence. “Relax.”
Summer hurried away, glancing in Vander’s direction. He looked up at her and gave her a cocky wink that usually sent flutters through her body, but the lingering feel of that man’s hand left her filled with irritation.
When she brought his beer, she made sure to stay out of reach, leaning in to set the bottle on the corner of the table. “Be back in a few with your fries.”
Before he could deliver a new creepy line, she swung around and hurried to another table.
Ten minutes later, she passed the same table carrying drinks, and his fingers brushed her ass.
The tray nearly tilted in her hands, and she stopped in her tracks. “I said stop touching me.”
The man smirked. “Aw, sweetheart—”
“No.” Her tone rang with a force he couldn’t argue with.
Customers at a few nearby tables looked over before returning to their conversations. Summer forced herself to breathe and walk away again. Causing a scene in the middle of a packed bar wouldn’t help anybody.
When she saw him get up and stumble to the restroom, she took the chance to deliver his fries. But minutes later she was serving a nearby table and fingers snagged the back pocket of her jeans.
That did it.
She whipped around so fast that fury blurred through her vision. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
The man actually laughed.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted a tall figure. Then everything blurred.
One second Summer stood there, seething and humiliated.
The next Vander had grabbed the man by the front of the shirt and ripped him out of his chair like he weighed as much as a Wyoming cloud on a summer day. He propelled him three steps backward and slammed him against the wall hard enough to rattle the framed beer signs.
Everyone in the vicinity went dead quiet. Only the thump of music and boots filled the silence.
Vander’s long fingers wrapped around the guy’s throat. Pure violence rolled off him in controlled waves.
Her stomach wobbled, but not from fear. In awe.
The drunk man clawed at Vander’s wrist. “What the fu—”
“If you touch her again”—his voice carried around the room as a low growl—“you’ll be eating with a straw.”
No one moved.
Vander leaned closer, his calm demeanor making the threat worse. “And you’ll need somebody else to hold your dick when you piss.”
Summer gulped.
Holy.
Shit.
The guy’s face paled.
Vander released him abruptly, but his fists remained curled. The man sagged against the wall, gasping.
Summer heard a few whispers spreading around them. Then the drunk grabbed his jacket and left.
Vander turned to her, the fury gone from his expression, leaving only the pinch of concern. “You okay?”
Adrenaline and hot desire collided in her veins, pumping through her bloodstream and leaving her breathless. She nodded once because her brain temporarily stopped functioning.
Somebody muttered, “Damn.”
The noise of the bar quickly resumed around them.
Vander stepped closer but didn’t touch her. “You wanna go home?”
She searched his eyes, drinking in the protective fury layered behind worry. The way he could shut his anger down that fast was both terrifying and impressive.
She managed a small shake of her head. “I have a few hours left in my shift. I’ll be okay.”
He stared down at her for another throbbing heartbeat before he nodded and made his way back to his table.
She watched him for a second. As she turned to continue to the kitchen, a woman darted out a hand to stop her.
“That man is hot. Honey, if you don’t snag him, half of Willowbrook will gladly get in line for some of that.” The woman looked over at Vander’s retreating back, his carved muscles twitching with every step.