“I’ll be right back with your beer.” The waitress looked between Dizzie and the creep and the chip. She turned back to Dizzie, apology in her eyes.
Dizzie nodded in understanding. It was up to her to get rid of this guy.
“So, how much?”
Startled, Dizzie looked at him. He slid his credit chip her way.
She shuddered. Sure, she was dressed like a hooker, but she hadn’t expected anyone to take advantage of it. Gross. “I think you’ve got the wrong girl.”
He looked her up and down. “I don’t think so.”
Her stomach churned and she knew it wasn’t only due to the coffee. Sit here and hope he went away? Or run?
Neither option was good. Hope hadn’t gotten her very far in life. Running wouldn’t get her far, and definitely not in these shoes. Not to mention, she’d told Killian she’d meet him here.
“Excuse me.” She slipped her phone into her pocket and got to her feet. She grabbed her bag and the new cup of coffee, intending to move to another table.
His hand wrapped around her wrist. “Where you going? We’re just getting to know each other.”
She tugged at her arm, trying not to cause a scene.
His grip tightened.
Fuck, that wasn’t good. She stilled as her fight or flight instincts kicked in. “I gotta go.”
“I don’t think so.” He pulled her toward him.
Screw avoiding a scene.
She stepped backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible. It wasn’t much, given the grip he had on her arm.
Praying it was hot enough, she tipped the coffee onto his arm.
“You bitch!” He released her and she scrambled back, putting the table between them.
“You’ll pay for that.” He shoved a chair out of his way.
The high heels didn’t offer much in the way of getaway material, but Dizzie bounced on her toes, waiting to see which way he went, hoping to go the opposite way.
“We got a problem here?”
She dropped back on her heels in surprise. That voice. She knew that voice. The man it came from? Total stranger.
He was tall, with dark hair and muddy brown eyes. His clothes were… She didn’t have the words for them.
His yellow shirt nearly blinded her, even in the dark bar. The skintight pants—which hugged a delicious set of thighs—were a completely unappetizing purple.
Dizzie stared at Killian in shock. She’d never in a million years expected him to come disguised as…whatever that was.
His appearance pulled the creep’s attention from her. “Not your fucking problem.”
“Yeah, she is.” His claim sent a thrill through her.
“Oh yeah?” The corporate guy crowded Killian.
“You should leave. Now.” Killian’s voice was a low rumble.
Whatever the guy saw in Killian’s face convinced him. He slipped in the puddle of coffee, righted himself, and practically ran to the door.
