Intercept: An enemies to lovers romance (Storm Valley Rapids Book 3)

Chapter 1

Trouble. Thats what the guy was. I saw it the minute I stepped into the bar. I should have turned and walked right back out again. I would have if it wasnt for the way Chantel tugged at my arm and turned those big puppy dog eyes on me.

Cmon Bam, I need a drink. Dont be a spoilsport.

No ones ever accused me of being one of those, I said. A shit ton of other things, but not a spoilsport.

My baby sister smiled.

You know the look. Its the one where she knew all along she was going to get her way. If anyone was spoilt, it was her. She knew what to say and do to twist me in knots around her little finger.

And didnt I love it?

Mostly. Sometimes, like now, it gets me into trouble.

Speaking of trouble, his eyes were still on her. They were from the moment we stepped through the door.

I did my whole big-brother-trying-to catch-the guys-eyes thing to warn him off. I dont think he even noticed I existed. That happened sometimes, when Chantel was around. Im six foot three and made of muscle, but shes cuter than me. Only a little bit, but its enough apparently.

Honestly, it was better this way. If I get noticed, I usually get recognised. Then everyone wants a selfie with me, or to have me sign their boob.

Yeah, even the guys.

As a running back for the Storm Valley Rapids, I was a bit of a big deal, if football is your thing. If its not your thing, you might have seen me model in the spring fashion parade at Laceys department store.

Im an all-rounder kinda guy, especially when an event is for charity. What can I say? I live to give.

I have a bad feeling about this place, Chantel. I almost had to shout to be heard over the music.

You said that about the last place, she shouted back. Its only because no one knows us here. She poked me in the chest and turned away to order a drink.

The man at the bar with the beard and the eyes which followed her all the way over, smiled at her. The nerve of some guys.

She smiled back.

That, right there, is how trouble starts.

My name is Erik, the guy said. Can I buy you a drink?

She can buy her own drinks, I told him.

She looked at me over her shoulder. Or you could buy them. Did she really flutter her eyelashes at me?

Or that, I agreed. I gave Erik a smirk. Not one of my nice ones. More like a warning, just this side of pleasant. See, shes sorted.

Seems to me that she can speak for herself, Erik pointed out. What are you, her bodyguard?

As it happens, I am, I agreed. And her brother. Shes not interested.

Chantel swatted my arm. Maybe I am.

I grimaced and jerked my thumb toward Erik. In him? Id suggest she had better taste, but I met guys she dated in the past. None of them were even close to good enough for her. Okay, no guy would be. That was why I bought her a dog for her last birthday. I didnt want her to be alone.

Erik got up from his stool and took a step closer.

He was almost as tall as me, and as muscular. I think maybe he used his size to intimidate other people. No way that shit was working on me.

He realised that when he stood, I saw it in his eyes. The smart thing to do at this point would be to back the fuck off.

The dumbass, manly pride thing to do was to step closer to me and curl his lip.

Why cant she be interested in me? he asked. A girl like her, I can make her scream. He glanced toward her. Just look at how shes dressed, shes practically begging for it.

Okay, the really smart thing to do right now would be grab Chantels hand and march her right out the door. We could find somewhere nice. Or better yet, go home.

But shes my sister, and no one talks smack about her like that. Matter of fact, anyone who thinks a womans clothes mean she wants sex needs to be corrected, by my way of thinking.

Shes wearing what she likes, dumbass. I placed a couple of fingers to his chest and gave Erik a shove.

He took a few steps back. Way more than necessary for a small push. Some people had to be drama queens.

His face turned red. His eyes flashed with anger.

You sure shes not wearing what you like? he asked.

I didnt know if I should laugh or punch him in the dick. Okay, no, thats not right. I knew I shouldnt punch him in the dick, but I was tempted.

Shes my sister, you sick son of a bitch, I said instead.

So? He sneered. She looks like shed put out for anyone.

I stepped forward, hand curled into a fist, ready to knock his lights out.

Chantel beat me to it. She jumped between us and punched him fair in the eye. She was small, but strong enough to force him back a step or two for real.

You little bitch, he growled. He made to swing at her.

I grabbed her shoulders, turned us both and bore the brunt of the blow on the side of my neck. I guessed he was aiming for Chantels face.

My head snapped sideways.

Motherfucker, I swore under my breath.

I let Chantel go and turned back, ready to beat the snot out of this guy.

Before I could, someone grabbed my arm. I went to shake them off, but the security guard wouldnt budge.

Ill have to ask you to step outside, Mr Clinton. The guy—his name tag read Tank—recognised me.

Crap.

His voice was cool and steady, but he wasnt taking no from me, or anyone else.

You too, he said to Chantel.

Another guard escorted Erik to the door, and from the look of the phone in his hand, he was calling the cops.

Well come quietly, I said.

Tank nodded. I appreciate that. He didnt let my arm go.

I didnt touch him, I added. I shot Chantel a look. For some reason, she was grinning from ear to ear. Evidently she didnt realise how much trouble I was in now. She probably thought this was some fun game, and her dear big brother would save her ass, as usual.

Okay, I would if I could, but I had a bad feeling I wouldnt be able to this time. Shed be in all kinds of trouble with our mother if she got thrown in gaol.

Uh-ha, Tank said. Without even a hint of doubt, hed heard that before. Several times a night, most likely. In my case it was more or less true, but he didnt care.

I got it. It wasnt his job to care. He was there to stop people from making a mess in the bar, with blood and bits of peoples faces and stuff.

I sighed and looked down toward the floor. More and more people noticed us being escorted to the door. Mutters of Bam, and Rapids, rippled through the place.

That was followed by the inevitable raising of phones so they could record my walk of shame.

I looked up and gave them all a smile and a wave with my spare arm.

Tank gave my other arm a squeeze. Presumably he didnt think much of my cheerful outlook on life. Maybe he even thought I was using this moment to get some free publicity.

Shit no, this was exactly the kind of thing I didnt need. I should cover my face and hide from the phones, but thats not my nature. Nope, it really aint. Ive never been shy and Im not going to start now.

My smile faded when I saw the police waiting outside for us. The only thing that made it better was seeing the look on Eriks face. The guy looked like he was going to piss his pants.

That man shoved me. Erik pointed at my nose. I was just defending myself against a bigger, aggressive man.

Aggressive? Bam? Chantel asked, her eyes wide in disgust. He doesnt have an aggressive bone in his whole body. Except when hes playing football. Then you better get out of his way, or hell smash the crap outta?—

I interrupted. Thanks, Chantel, they get it.

She grinned. They should, youre all kinds of badass out there.

Im sure he is. The officers badge read Philips. He looked over my shoulder at the crowd who all but hung out the door, watching.

Well take this down to the station. He looked like it was the last thing he wanted to bother with. Bringing us in came with a ton of paperwork, and time spent that could have been better used dealing with real criminals.

I suspected if I wasnt someone famous, wed all get off with a warning. Maybe a ban from the bar for a year or two. The way the crowd was muttering with increasing anger meant they needed to move us out of here, and quickly.

It was on me to defuse the situation, if I could.

I turned to the crowd, grinned as broadly as I could, then gave them a bow.

The crowd broke into cheers and a round of applause which lasted after I slid into the back seat of the cop car.

Officer Philips glared at me. His companion, a cute blonde whose tag read, Stolz looked even less impressed.

I gave them a what? look and shifted over to make room for Chantel. Stolz directed Erik to sit beside Chantel and shut the door on us.

If you lay a hand on her, Ill knock your fuckin block off, I growled. I rubbed the side of my neck where he punched me. It hurt like a bitch, but I was used to pain. I wouldnt be much use on the field if I wasnt. Pain was part of my day to day life. I didnt regret a minute of it.

Sure you will, Erik replied. He rolled his eyes. Guys like you only think with your fists.

I frowned at him. Guys like me? Youre the dumbass who swung at a woman.

Only because she hit me first, Erik insisted. After you shoved me.

You were being less than gentlemanly toward my sister, I replied.

Erik muttered something that sounded very much like, The slut deserved it.

My face heated. You better not have said what I think you just said. Because if you did?—

Shut up back there, Philips snapped. He glared at me over his shoulder. Of course he was listening to everything we said. I probably sounded like a meathead thug, which is exactly what some folks seemed to expect from me, and the rest of my team.

Sorry, officer, Chantel said brightly.

Erik snorted.

I told you that bar was trouble, I muttered. This is not how I planned to spend my evening. We should have gone to Waves, the bar and burger place owned by the cousin of Hawk Florence, star quarterback for the team. Vera and John took no crap from anyone. They would have thrown Erik out on his ass the moment he looked sideways at my sister.

Oh, I dont know, Chantel said. Ive never been in a cop car before. Its kinda exciting.

I frowned at her. Chantel Margaret Clinton, you have weird ideas when it comes to fun. Next time, leave me the hell out of it.

She wrinkled her nose. “Abraham Wingfield Clinton, youre getting boring in your old age.

I barked a laugh. Old age? I was barely in my mid-twenties. I played for the best pro gridiron team in Australia. I changed girlfriends like other people changed their socks. In no way was I boring. Not a chance.

Im not old or boring. I just dont wanna spend the night in the slammer because of a prick like that. I nodded toward Erik.

He curled his lip at me.

I curled mine back at him. I might have mouthed an expletive or two. He might have mouthed some back.

Youre right, Chantel said. Youre not old. Im starting to wonder if youll actually ever grow up.

Not if I can help it, I replied.

Not if I could help it.