1
Ian
One year ago - June
“Have you always been this fucking stupid, or have you had to work for it?”
I’m barely a foot inside the door when that sweet voice hits my ear. A smile pulls at my lips as I pivot toward the bar. Most wouldn’t find that sweet, but I’m not most people. I take in the woman attached to the voice. She has shoulder-length blonde hair and glasses. Since she’s sitting on a barstool, I can’t quite tell how tall she is, but she appears to be short.
What gets my attention more than her height is her body. My jaw clenches when my eyes sweep down. Her tits are amazing. Full. Lucious. Perfection. I can only see a hint of her curvy hips, and what I can only assume are thickthighs and an ass to match. At least that’s what my imagination is telling me. My gaze shifts to the man next to her.
There’s no way this asshat is this goddess’s boyfriend.
At least I hope not.
I step back to observe the two before deciding on my next move. The man is facing away from me, a glass of beer suspended in the air as he shakes his head in what I can only assume is annoyance. The woman glares at him, her grip tight on the beer sitting in front of her on the bar. With her turned to the side, I can only make out her profile from my new location.
The man shifts on his barstool and wraps his arm around the back of hers. As he leans closer, she leans back to keep space between them. My fists bunch at my sides at how uncomfortable she looks—some of her earlier spark dimming at the man’s blatant attempt at intimidation.
“Look, you little bitch…”
Okay, that’s all I can take.
Without wasting another second, I stomp over to the couple. My hand slaps down on the man’s shoulder as my fingers dig into the muscle behind his collarbone. He cries out as I lean over to speak close to his ear. My angle puts me even with the woman’s chest. I watch her breasts rise and fall with quick breaths before my eyes find hers. Behind her large frames, her eyes are wide with surprise and something else I can’t quite decipher. My gaze doesn’t leave hers when I ask, “Is that any way to talk to a lady?”
The man whimpers as I pull him back to put space between him and the new object of my fascination.
“What the fuck, man? Let me go.”
I begrudgingly release him when I see the bartender eyeing us. The last thing I want is to be kicked out beforeI’ve even said a word to the woman now watching me with a curious gaze. Glancing down at the man, I take a small step back to give him room to follow the command I’m about to make. “Get the fuck away from her and don’t come back over here or I’ll break your arm.”
A small gasp escapes the lips I want to become acquainted with sooner rather than later. When our eyes meet again, I’m worried that I’ll find disgust or anger, but I’m not quite prepared for the small smile lighting up her eyes. The man wastes no time scurrying away to rejoin his friends near the back of the bar.
Swallowing hard, I pull out the barstool recently vacated by the asshole. My stomach flutters nervously in a way I’m incredibly unfamiliar with. While they make me uncomfortable, they also excite me. It makes me feel that there’s a danger nearby, which is much more my style. I ignore the fact that it’s caused simply by sitting next to the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
The bartender comes over and gives me a wary look before asking what I want to drink. I order a beer for myself and jut my chin toward the beer bottle sitting on the bar in front of the woman to my right. “Another for her if she wants it as well.”
As the bartender looks at the woman, she gives him a nod and a small smile before turning back to me.
I hold out my hand. “Ian Murray.”
She narrows her eyes briefly at my outstretched hand before taking it gently in hers. My cock jumps at the contact, and I know I’m a fucking goner. I can’t say I’m all that sad about it. She gives it one swift shake before providing her name. When she slips her hand from mine, I fight the urge to pull it back.
“Nice to meet you, Ian. Maggie Smith.”
Maggie.
Cute name for such a spitfire. I love it.
“Maggie. Very nice to meet you.” I wish I could see her more fully than I’m able to in the dim lights of the bar. The need to know every inch of her makes my mind fuzzy.
As the bartender drops off our drinks, I hand him my card and tell him to put anything Maggie had before I got here on my tab.
“You don’t have to do that,” Maggie protests beside me. Her tone tells me the attitude she lost momentarily is back.
I twist in my seat so I can face her. She tucks her hair behind her ear before taking a sip of beer. “I don’t generally do things I don’t want to. So let me be a gentleman and pay for the drinks of the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen as a penance for that dickhead.” Her eyebrows jump at my statement, and I continue. “That way, I can hopefully remind you that some of us are the good guys.”
She scrunches up her nose. “The most gorgeous? You must not get out much.”
