Foolish Expectations

by Alison Bliss

  She tensed and pushed his hand off her, but before she could say anything, someone kicked the guy’s chair with enough force to jar his entire body. Both of them looked up to see the man named Nash standing beside the other man’s chair, holding a beer in each hand. “Might want to put your hands on someone else’s woman if you want to keep them.”

  “Aw, damn you, Nash!” The guy rose from his chair and shook his head. “You got dibs on this one?”

  Nash nodded. “I do.”

  “Man, I’m gonna have to find a new hangout if I want a fighting chance at getting some decent puss—”

  “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.” A vein throbbed in Nash’s temple and his fingers tightened their grip on the bottles he held. “In fact, you better start looking now before I knock all the teeth out of that foul mouth of yours.”

  The man threw his hands up in surrender. “Whoa! Okay, okay, I’m going,” the coward said, backing away slowly until he was in the clear. Then he went to find someone else to molest. Thank Goodness.

  This time, Nash didn’t wait for an invitation. He pulled the empty chair back around to the other side of the table, turned it around, and sat across from Bailey, sliding her a beer. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  She crossed her arms and blew out a hard breath. “I don’t believe I sent up any smoke signals, Chief.”

  He grinned slyly. “Don’t need to now, sweetheart. I marked you as my woman. He won’t bother you again, and he’ll spread the word to the rest of them.”

  Stunned by that revelation, she looked around the bar and, sure enough, there were several men glancing over and pointing in her direction. “So you…placed a claim on me?”

  “Just for tonight. But don’t worry, it was for a good cause. Richard’s a scum-bag with a reputation for getting grabby with the ladies.”

  Of course the molester’s name is Richard. Figures.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I already had the overwhelming pleasure of that experience.”

  “Well, Sheila,” he said with a wink. “You don’t have to worry about that idiot anymore. Not with me here.”

  Christ, he thought her name was Sheila! She smiled at that. Oh well, no point in correcting him. Shouldn’t believe everything you overhear, buddy. “You mean, because he wouldn’t take no for an answer?”

  “Yep. Exactly.”

  Bailey leaned toward him and rested her elbows on the table. “So, tell me…Nash, is it?” she asked sweetly. “Tell me how I should handle a persistent man with a blatant disregard for the word no.”

  “Ah, hell, darlin’. Most women can get away with a polite rejection,” he said easily. “But if that doesn’t work, then something a little more volatile is sometimes needed.” He leaned back in his chair and tipped the bottle to his lips. “That’s where I come in.”

  “Good thing you were here, then.”

  He nodded. “Sure was.”

  “I guess I should thank you.”

  “Yep.” He took another swig of his beer.

  Bailey stood up so quickly, her chair banged against the wall and the entire bar came to a standstill. She slapped both hands on the table in front of her and glared at him. “Thank you, then…you egotistical jerk!”

  Nash choked on his beer. “Wait. What?”

  “Thanks for wasting ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back. If I had wanted to have this pointless conversation with you, I’d have invited you over here myself. But since I didn’t, you decided to prove what a stud you are.”

  He shook his head. “Now, wait just a damn min—”

  “Isn’t that what you are around here—the Thoroughbred stallion running fast and free with all the loose fillies?”

  He looked unsure how to respond. “I...uh…”

  “Well, I hate to screw up your breeding plans, Bucko, but you can get lost. This filly has nothing to offer you.” As if the cocky sonofabitch couldn’t help himself, his gaze lowered, pissing her off more. “Stop staring at my boobs. I didn’t dress this way for you. In fact, let’s get something else straight. I’m not your darlin’, your sweetheart, or some drunk chick you can persuade into going home with you.”

  He peered around and seemed to realize everyone in the bar was staring at them. His expression hardened. “You done yelling at me yet?”

  Breathing a little harder than before, Bailey composed herself and smoothed out her dress. “If you men wouldn’t dangle your manhood out there for everyone to see, then you wouldn’t have to worry about some woman wrapping her teeth around it.”

  Nash stared at her for a moment, then smirked. “Was that an offer?”

  A couple of men playing pool nearby chuckled.

  “Jesus. You’re impossible.” She grabbed her purse and stormed out.

  Chapter Two

  Nash Sutherland shook his head.

  Hell, all he had done was buy her a beer and rescue her from some pervert with his hand halfway up her skirt. If she’d wanted to verbally assault someone, that dickhead should’ve been the one on the receiving end. But, no. She’d yelled at him instead. Publicly. Like he was the pervert. The little blonde spitfire had unleashed her fury on the wrong man.

  Sure, for a brief moment, he might have wondered how soft the inside of her thighs were and how they’d respond to his tongue trailing up them into parts unknown. But it wasn’t like he’d done it.

  Nash might have come on a little strong and pushed his way over to her table, even after she’d declined the beer he’d tried to buy her, but he would never have forced himself on her like that shit-for-brains had. And after the way she’d yelled at him, Nash had been inclined to let her storm off. Insane-ass woman.

  But seconds after the angry blonde disappeared out the front door, he caught sight of Richard slipping out a side exit with a sinister grin on his face.

  Fuck.

  The girl obviously didn’t want company—his or anyone else’s, for that matter—but she was damn sure going to get it, whether she liked it or not. Nash jumped out of his chair and went after her.

  She made it to the parking lot before he caught her. His hand shot out and latched onto her wrist, turning her around. “Wait a minute.”

  “Let go of me.”

  When she jerked her arm, he tightened his grip. He didn’t see Richard anywhere, but he wasn’t about to let her keep walking farther away from the safety of the bar…or him. “Hold on. I need to talk to you.”

  She tried to wrench herself loose, but he held on. Out of frustration, she swung at him with her free arm. All he could do was keep a tight hold on her and block her flailing limbs. “Damn it! What’s your problem, lady?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I asked you to let go of me.”

  “No, you didn’t. You ordered me to. Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to tell you something.”

  “I don’t have to listen to anything, you stupid asshole.”

  This time, she swung her purse, clocking him in the cheek before he could duck. And then, as if being bitch-slapped with a brick wasn’t bad enough, the enraged woman tried to kick him in the nuts…and actually grazed one of them.

  Sonofabitch.

  Nash maneuvered her back against the tailgate of a nearby pickup. He took it easy on her, but he also had to protect himself until she calmed down. Both of them were already breathing heavy. “Are you done trying to kick my ass yet?”

  She glared at him, fire burning in her eyes. “Are you so hard up for a woman that you have to chase one into the parking lot because you can’t accept that she refused your advances?”

  “Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to make advances on you. If I had, we’d be in my bed screwing instead of standing in this parking lot.” He blocked her attempt at hitting him again and chuckled softly at her indignation. “Would you stop hitting me already? I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you. I only came out to make sure—”

  “God, you really think you’re something special, don’t you?”

  Well
, I am a Sutherland…

  He rolled his eyes at the thought. That was exactly the way his father looked at things, not Nash. He had more respect and pride in himself than that.

  Aaron Sutherland wielded the power of the family name and flaunted their fortune every chance he got. But Nash didn’t want anything to do with it. As far as he was concerned, his father could take his inheritance and shove it up his ass…which was exactly what he’d told him the last time they’d spoken. The prick.

  “I don’t think any such thing,” Nash said, scoffing at her remark.

  “Oh, really? Well, why else would you come all the way out here to give me one last chance to sleep with you?”

  That’s what she thought I was doing? Christ.

  He sighed. “You have it all wrong. I came out here only to make sure you were okay.” He released her and backed away to make sure she understood he was no threat. “You were being followed…by someone other than me.”

  She stilled and her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

  The sound of the country music grew louder and they both looked up to see Richard slipping through the front door, heading back inside the bar. Nash glanced back at her to make sure she fully understood the situation.

  Momentarily stunned, a soft little “oh” whispered past her parted lips. Her eyes glazed over, but it wasn’t anger he saw there. It was something different, something that grabbed his attention and held on tight. Fear.

  “I…I only wanted a beer,” she said, her voice trembling. “Just a cold beer.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “But apparently wearing a stupid dress in that bar declares hunting season officially open with me as the big game trophy.” Sniffling, she wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “And believe me, I didn’t come here with any intention of being mounted or stuffed.”

  Silently, he stared at her for a full minute. Then he pushed himself off the tailgate and stepped back, shoving his hand in his right pocket. He pulled out his keys and motioned with his head. “Come on.”

  She stood there dumbfounded, twisting her fingers together, as he crossed the parking lot and climbed into his gold Chevy truck. She hadn’t moved a muscle, so he started the engine and shifted into reverse, backing across the parking lot until the truck was even with her. He motored down the window. “You coming?”

  She glanced down at her feet, then shifted uncomfortably. “I, uh…where are we going?”

  “You said you wanted a cold beer. I know just the place.”

  Her gaze met his once again, but her blue eyes had dulled to an ashy gray as if her confidence had diminished. He hated that. Nash wanted to see that fiery spark she’d had when she’d let him have it in the bar. So he added, “You want it or not?” He grinned sinfully and arched one brow, knowing it came off as a double entendre.

  She scoffed at his remark. “Yeah, I want it. The beer, I mean.”

  Nash grinned as she opened the door and lifted her leg to climb inside…until the hem of her dress inched upward and stretched tight across her slender thighs. He blew out a slow breath and nonchalantly adjusted himself, hoping to alleviate the uncomfortable crowding going on in his jeans. But as she slid into the seat, closed the door, and turned to grab the seat belt, her skirt only rose higher.

  He gripped the steering wheel harder, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road as he drove out of the parking lot.

  “So, do you want to tell me why I deserved the public humiliation you unleashed on me back there?”

  She grimaced. “Look, I’ve had a rough day, okay? I’m sorry if I took it out on you, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay, fair enough. Where are you from?”

  “How about we just forget the talking altogether?”

  “It’s a simple question.”

  She stared out the passenger window and sighed. “Here.”

  “Here, as in Flat Rock?”

  “No, here as in the mesquite tree we just passed,” she said, her tone ringing with sarcasm. “Of course I meant Flat Rock. What kind of question is that?”

  Her sharp words came out almost hateful, littered with an untrusting, smart-ass zing, but he recognized the attitude for what it was. Someone had done something to get this energetic young woman’s back up, and Nash would bet almost anything that someone had been a man. Judging by the ugly scowl on her pretty face, she’d had just about enough of them.

  “Houston isn’t far away, you know. Or you could have been from any of the surrounding cities. Flat Rock isn’t all that big compared to most places, yet I’ve never seen you around town.”

  “There’s fifteen thousand residents in Flat Rock. I doubt you know the other fourteen thousand nine hundred ninety-eight of them. Or did you pick them all up in a bar, too?”

  He grinned. “Well, I can see conversation comes naturally to you.” Then he leveled a sardonic gaze at her and shook his head. “Why don’t you relax a little? I’m not the bad guy here.”

  “That has yet to be determined,” she said coolly.

  Nash thought about that for a moment. “Want me to prove it?”

  “How? You going to put on your ‘I’m not the bad guy’ badge?” Her smile teetered between irritation and amusement. “Or maybe you’re going to show me the superhero leotard under your clothes? Is that it—you’ve got your spidey-roos on?”

  He shook his head. Christ, she’s a smart-ass. A long-legged, sexy smart-ass with a sharp tongue and a curvy little body that he wanted pressed against his. “I have something a little different in mind, but I think it’ll convince you.”

  “I doubt it.”

  He shrugged and turned right on the next street. “Nothing more fun than proving someone wrong.”

  A few minutes later, they veered onto a long caliche-paved driveway and followed it up to a red brick ranch-style home, complete with an old wooden barn and fenced pastures. Several curious horses lifted their heads at the sound of the approaching truck. Nash pulled up in front of the house and shut off the engine.

  She glanced around warily. “I…I thought you were taking me to a bar?”

  “Sweetheart, there’s not a bar in this city you can go into wearing a dress like that and not get hit on by some idiot. You’re safer having a drink here.”

  “Where’s here?”

  “My house,” he said, smiling at the panic that flashed across her face. “Calm down. It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, really?” The panic quickly changed to irritation. “Like you even have a clue as to what I’m thinking?”

  He leaned his arm on the steering wheel and looked directly into her eyes. “You’re thinking I brought you here with the intention of putting the moves on you so I could get you into bed. You’re wrong. I brought you here to show you I can be a gentleman.”

  “Okay, so let me get this straight. You’re proving that you’re a gentleman by taking me home with you?” She shook her head. “You’re fucking delusional.”

  “No, I’m going to prove it by keeping my hands to myself.”

  “Right. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

  Nash tried to be patient with her, but didn’t appreciate being treated like he was some kind of predator. “I don’t know what kind of men you’re used to hanging out with, but I would never touch a woman in a sexual manner unless she asked me to. So unless you give me a green light, you’re perfectly safe with me.”

  “Oh, trust me, I won’t.”

  “Then I reckon you have nothing to worry about,” he said, hoping his sincerity registered in his tone. She still didn’t look convinced, though. “Okay, fine. Tell me where you live and I’ll take you home.”

  He moved to start the engine, but she placed her hand on his arm. “Um, Nash…wait.” Their eyes met briefly, and she bit her lip. “I didn’t get the beer you promised me.”

  Nash nodded and climbed out of the truck, wiping the grin off his face before he sauntered around to the front bumper where she met him. They strolled side-by-si
de up to the front porch together, where he unlocked the door and reached inside to flip on the lights before they entered.

  He left her standing near the front door while he stepped in the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He twisted the lids off on his way back to her and tossed them on the coffee table. When he handed her a beer, she fumbled it a little, demonstrating how nervous she was. Probably wasn’t sure if she had let her guard down or if he had simply changed tactics. Either way, though, she’d ended up in his living room with a beer in her hand.

  Damn, I’m better than I thought.

  Nash plopped down on the couch, but she stayed standing, uncomfortably shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “You don’t have to stand by the door,” he said, motioning to the couch. “I promise I won’t bite.”

  “I’m fine.” She shifted her weight again and gazed at the rodeo trophies on the bookshelf. “Is this what you do for a living?”

  “No, I own a law practice. I retired from the rodeo circuit when I was younger, after cracking every rib in my body and getting kicked in the head one too many times.” He watched her squirm painfully in one place. She was itching to kick off those fucking shoes, just like she’d done at the bar and again in his truck. But she probably thought doing so in an intimate setting would translate as some sort of invitation.

  Nash sighed. “Sweetheart, you can sit down. I’m not going to pull a Richard.”

  She grinned at that, but continued to stand by the door. “It’s okay,” she said, shifting her weight again. “I’m fine.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” He stood, walked over, and pulled the beer out of her hand, placing it on a nearby bookshelf, then scooped her off her feet.

  She shrieked as he walked several feet, and tossed her onto the couch. When he placed his hand on her knee, she practically crab-crawled up the wall to get away from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Jesus. Calm down. I’m only taking these off.” Frowning, he reached down and pulled both of her shoes loose, holding them up for her to see. “These are stupid shoes. Anyone can see that they hurt your feet. Do yourself a favor and buy boots or sneakers next time.”