But, of course, Tucker wasn’t finished.
“Guess I should thank you,” he said, louder now, like he thought this was some kind of comedy roast. “If you hadn’t run off, I wouldn’t have ended up with Madison.” His laughter sliced through the crowded bar loudly. “Worked out pretty great for me. Not so much for you, huh?”Har har har.Tucker grinned slyly, looking around the bar for someone to join in on the joke. The bar stayed uncomfortably quiet.
Tucker either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Her throat tightened painfully. Her eyes burned. Damn her emotions.Don’t cry. Not here. Not for him.
He looked around like he was working the crowd. “Hey, all I’m saying is that trade-ups happen for some of us, right? So that’s the new guy, huh?” Tucker jerked his chin toward the bathroom. “Looks like a real downgrade.”
That was when she felt it.
A heavy, familiar arm slid over her shoulders, pulling her back against a solid wall of warmth and strength. A hard thighpressed along hers as he slid into the booth beside her, anchoring her in place.
Rush.
His name moved through her like a sigh. She tilted her head slightly, catching the strong line of his jaw and the dark scruff darkening his face. He didn’t look at her. He looked straight at Tucker, with that calm, unreadable expression that somehow said everything.
“No,” Rush drawled, in a voice she felt more than heard in the rumble where she rested against his side. “That would be me. Right, darlin’?”
He looked down at her and raised one dark brow in question.
This okay?
“I… um….” Lily tried to form words, but instead, a huge grin spread slowly over her face.
Yes.
Rush returned it with one of his own, a lazy, lethal grin that tugged up the corner of his mustache and made her stomach flutter with memories.
Then, just as quickly, the smile vanished, and before her eyes, he changed as he turned to Tucker, the authority of a sheriff settling into his bones like a second skin.
“Is there a problem?”
Tucker’s mouth, which had dropped open enough to see the gold fillings in his back molars, snapped shut. Lily bit the inside of her cheek to fight the hysterical urge to laugh.
“No problem,” Tucker said, all false, chummy charm now. “Just catching up with my ex.”
Rush didn’t break eye contact. Instead, he reached down, took Lily’s hand, and threaded his fingers through hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. His palm was warm and calloused against hers.
Tucker let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head like he finally caught the joke. “You had me going for a second there, Rush.”
Rush didn’t blink. “It’s Sheriff Callahan.”
Tucker’s smirk faltered then slid off his face. “Look, I get it. You’re playing the hero, but Lily and I have a history.”
Madison tugged on Tucker’s arm. “Let’s just go,” she said, looking uncomfortable.
Rush tilted his head slightly and fixed Tucker with a level stare. “You had history. Now you don’t. I suggest you leave Lily alone now.” Rush’s words weren’t a suggestion, and Tucker knew it.
Tucker hesitated, but he wasn’t stupid, not when the sheriff of Northfield was looking at him like that.
Rush leaned in, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “You ready to call it a night, sweetheart?”
Lily swallowed hard. “Y-yes.” It came out as more of a squeak than a statement, but no one seemed to notice.
Tucker choked on his drink and stepped back as Rush stood to his full height, towering over Tucker and forcing him to move aside as he stared at them with his mouth open again.
Rush slid out of the booth and turned, offering his hand.
