Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Sami
A lick of something warm, tight, and intense ribbons through me as I gaze up into the dark-blue eyes of the man from the deli counter. He has, without question or hesitancy, thrown himself into my desperate ruse. I’ve never needed a hero, but he’s being one. For me. God, I don’t even know his name.
The urge to wrap my arms around his neck, press my body to his, and kiss him—really kiss him—burns in my core. The kind of kiss that makes a person question everything.
Gaze holding mine, he reaches out and brushes his fingers over my temple, behind my ear.
A stray hair? Or merely part of the ruse?
“Everything okay, babe?” He slides his attention to the jerk who, for the last twenty minutes, has refused to leave me alone.
Who kept sending over drink after drink as I ate my dinner.
Who followed me to the door when I went to leave.
Who tried to stop me leaving. “Anything I need to deal with?”
Is it possible for him to get any bigger?
Any more there? He’s already tall and imposing, with shoulders, biceps, and forearms worthy of a comic book superhero, but as his eyes lock on the annoying jerk, he seems to dominate the space more.
His jaw bunches, and he gently smooths one hand behind my back, drawing me to his side. Tucking me there.
Safe.
Protected.
A primitive ache blooms in the junction of my thighs. Oh God, I want this man in my life forever…
“Whatever,” the jerk sneers. “Have fun fucking the fat—”
“If you like your nose on your face,” my man says, voice like ancient ice, “I recommend you stop talking and fuck off.”
“Got a problem here, Gibbo?” another voice, equally calm and menacing, says to our left.
Three towering men walk toward us, each one radiating imposing confidence. All three cast level looks at the jerk. “Need a hand?”
“All good, Riggs.” My man–Gibbo?–chuckles before returning his stare to the jerk. “Someone was just leaving the pub.”
The three newcomers come to a halt beside us. All three cross their arms over chests almost as impressive as the man I think I’m already halfway to falling in love with.
“Happy to help,” Riggs says, clearly enjoying himself.
The jerk’s eyes flick over them all before landing back on me. “Cheers,” he mutters, shoving past me and out the door.
A choppy breath bursts from me, almost but not quite a laugh, and I smile at the three men, now all studying me. “Thank you.”
“We look after our own here,” one says, throwing a nod at the man whose arm is still curled around my waist. “If you’re special to Gibbo, you’re special to us.”
Turning in Gibbo’s embrace, I look up at him.
His eyes find mine, a question in his, and my heart turns into a frenetic beat.
If we weren’t in public, if I’d known him for more than a few minutes, I’d be begging him to make love to me now.
“Thank you,” I say, the word close to a husky whisper.
“For, y’know, going along with it. I appreciate it. ”
His gaze drops to my lips, and my nipples bead.
“And on that note,” Riggs says, laughter dancing on the words, “we’ll leave you two in peace. Happy Birthday, Gibbo. I reckon you’re doing okay for an old man.”
I blink. “Birthday?”
He closes his eyes, shakes his head, and looks at me again. What would it be like to have that intense, direct gaze run all over my naked body? “It’s no big deal.”
I frown at his departing friends and then up at him. “I ruined your celebration.”
He laughs, a deep, relaxed sound that’s like a caress on my senses. “Not at all. No bacon for my BLT ruined my celebration.” His eyes drop to my mouth again. “Although the night is getting better.”
Stomach fluttering, nipples aching, I meet his stare when he lifts it to mine again. “How so?”
The corner of his lips tug into a small smile. “I’m seeing you again.”
Kiss him.
“Well,” I say instead, with what I hope is a playful grin, “we did have this date tonight already planned, remember? You were late for it.”
He laughs again, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, that’s right. I apologize profusely. How can I make it up to you?”
Take me to bed?
“Perhaps we can go on a bacon-hunting expedition?” Oh lordy, when have I ever been so flirty? What is it about this man?
“Best way to spend a birthday,” he whispers on a low rumble as if we’re sharing a secret. “Searching for bacon with a gorgeous woman.”
Excited joy heats my cheeks, and, bolder than I’ve ever been, I hold out my right hand and smile. “I’m Samantha. Your date for this evening.”
“Tony.” He takes my hand in his, and my pulse quickens. “Pretty much everyone calls me Gibbo, though.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “Most people call me Sami. Especially those who also call me babe.”
He tilts his head. “Do you have many people calling you babe?”
Pulse pounding harder, I shake mine. “Only you.”
His nostrils flare. His Adam’s apple slides up and down the strong column of his throat. “Sami, do you believe in—”
“Gibbo!” Someone shouts behind me in the pub. “Sorry to interrupt your night, mate, but we’ve gotta go.”
Gibbo frowns over my head. “What’s up?”
I glance over my shoulder and see Riggs springing on his feet like he’s standing on hot coals. The rest of the crew is hurrying through the pub for the main exit.
“There’s a fire up on Bushrangers Flat,” Riggs calls. “Apparently, it’s one of the Airbnb cabins.”
I blink, an uneasy chill creeping over my scalp. Bushrangers Flat? I’m pretty certain that’s where my Airbnb is.