He’d caught me. Damn, he was fast.
We were now only inches apart. My heart thudded against my ribs. His lips parted in surprise, and I remembered kissing them. My mind was a thousand miles away…
Ward was tall. At least a full foot taller than my five-one-and-three-quarter-inches. I had to look up and up to see his eyes, which looked surprised, and then confused. We stared at one another for a long, long moment.
Suddenly, he released my shoulders like I was on fire and stepped back. His face went blank as if remembering something. I was too shocked to speak, so I just stared instead.
But it was his fault I’d fallen in the first place. Belatedly, I felt myself scowling. I drew myself up to my full height—all five foot two inches—and glared.
“Come on, Emma. You’ve lost this round. Give it up,” he ordered me before I recovered the powers of speech. With his height, there was no need for him to climb up on a barstool precariously. He just reached up around me and returned the channel to football. “Also, you really shouldn’t stand on the barstools or the bar. They aren’t meant to be climbed on. Perhaps you’re used to dancing atop bars, but this isn’t that kind of place.”
He let out a small chuckle and looked me up and down appreciatively.
“Excuse you?” I hissed. He might own the bar, but Kate managed it. I dropped the sugary tone from my voice. He no longer deserved sweet Emma.
“Nobody here likes CSPAN.”
“I do. Please turn it back on.”
His eyebrows lifted in apparent amusement and he laughed at me while shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” Perhaps being so ridiculously sexy meant women just did whatever he ordered them to do. Likely so. It was time someone knocked him down a peg. And these days, I was just the woman to do it.
“Listen Ward, you need to—” I started.
At the same time, he said, “Last time I checked, this is still my bar.”
I made a dismissive, huffy little noise that silenced him—at least temporarily, because he chuckled. It wasn’t exactly a dignified noise and his reaction seemed to indicate he found it cute rather than intimidating, but I used the moment to explain,
“Your bar or not, I’m a human being who doesn’t appreciate being talked down to! I don’t put up with jerks ordering me around for no reason and being condescending, sexist, and high-handed.”
He laughed. “I’m hardly a sexist because I want to watch football. By that logic, all men are sexists.” He looked down at me like he was having the time of his life. He was definitely getting off on this little spat, and it was infuriating me. Another part of me—a small but vocal part—was enjoying his attention and our fight way too much. I shifted from foot to foot as my brain pinged between anger and attraction. Anger won. Nobody calls me sweetheart.
“Not everyone likes football. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to mop in peace and have the TV tuned to something that isn’t boring sports.”
“Boring?!” He looked horrified. You’d have thought I’d just personally insulted him or blasphemed against the lord himself.
“Boring?!” I repeated Ward’s previous words, complete with a rude exaggeration of his slight southern accent.
My impression only made him laugh. When he spoke, he was still grinning, “Woman, you are in a bar. My bar. TVs in bars play sports. What the hell is going on here?” he asked the air around him rhetorically. “Is this the twilight zone?” Clearly, he was not used to being challenged.
Willie pulled his newspaper up higher around his face, insulating himself from the conversation despite being only two feet away. I thought I could hear him sniggering behind it. Coward.
“Is it really so surreal for you that someone might stand up to you? You’re a walking stereotype.” I shook my head at him.
He smirked. “Says you. I bet you live entirely off a diet of quinoa, kale smoothies, and smug superiority.”
I happen to like quinoa and kale smoothies.
“While I suppose you like to spend your time drooling in front of the latest Sharknado sequel when you aren’t reliving your glory days on tape. I’ve seen your silly truck, too. Are you compensating for anything?” A couple of his buddies laughed.
He leaned in close to whisper in my ear, “You know there’s absolutely nothing I need to compensate for, now don’t you, Emma?” When I felt my blush burning my cheeks, his smile was knowing. His voice was soft and amused when he added, “You have no idea what’s going on here right now, do you?” His utter confidence was sexy as hell. It was also obnoxious as hell. Being turned on and angry wasn’t something that I was used to.
“Clearly, we need Kate to come and talk some sense into you. I’m going to go get her.”
He nodded and sunk down on a barstool. A frustrating smile was still on his face. “Yeah, you do that, Tinkerbell.”
Tinkerbell?! I stormed off toward the office, practically quivering with anger, attraction, confusion, and embarrassment. I was so stuffed full of emotion I worried I was going to spontaneously combust, and I definitely didn’t want Ward to see it.
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Also by Taylor Holloway
Lone Star Lovers
Admit You Want Me - Ward
Kiss Me Like You Missed Me - Cole
Lie with Me - Lucas
Run Away with Me - Jason
Hold On To Me - Ryan
A Bad Case of You - Eric
Touching Me, Touching You - Christopher
This one’s For You - Ian
Bad For You - Brandon
Title TBD - Peter
For fans of exciting, romantic mysteries full of twists and turns, check out my Scions of Sin series!
Prequel: Never Say Never - Charlie
Bleeding Heart - Alexander
Kiss and Tell - Nathan
Down and Dirty - Nicholas
Lost and Found - David
Bad For You: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 27