“When did you last go home with someone?” Max asks me.
Too long.
I glance toward the bar. My gaze slides past the hordes of women and snags on—
Her.
A woman with hair so dark it would make a midnight sky look pale; toned, bare legs she’s got crossed where she sits on her stool; and the most amazing laugh as she throws her head back in amusement at something her friend just said.
Her friend leaves, and I’m still fixated on her. Which is why, when some asshole pushes into her on his way to the bar, I react.
I’m out of my seat and shoving past Max before I know what I’m doing. I vaguely hear Jared calling to me, but I’m too focused on rescuing the woman at the bar to stop.
I’m about five steps away from clocking the asshole when I realize she doesn’t need saving.
He’s got her pinned from behind, and I watch in admiration as she slams her high heel onto the top of his foot. He drops one hand off of her, and she elbows him in the solar plexus, forcing him to drop his other hand. She spins around and jabs a finger in his face.
“That’s what you get for touching a woman without permission.”
I’ve reached them now. “Is there a problem?”
The woman turns toward me. “No, thank you.”
The man takes one look at me and runs off like the coward he is.
Without thinking first, I reach out and brush a stray hair out of the woman’s face. As my fingers lightly touch her soft cheek, a powerful jolt of electricity shoots through me.
Fuck.
I shove my hands into my jeans pockets. “That was impressive handiwork,” I say. “You certainly took care of him.”
“Self-defense class,” she says casually. “My father made me take it.”
“Smart dad,” I say.
She smiles. I back up to give her room to return to her stool, but as she steps toward it, she stumbles.
She throws out a hand and it connects with my chest. I catch her by the waist to make sure she stays on her feet.
“I’m good,” she says quickly. “Thank you.”
But she doesn’t remove her hand, which is warm against my heart.
I swallow. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She nods. “That would be nice. It’s been a day.”
Five minutes later, we’re seated at a table for two around the corner of the bar. We each have a bottle of beer in front of us. I don’t think my teammates can see me from here, but I’m not worried about them interfering. We have an unspoken code between us—if one of us is with a woman, the rest of us know to keep our distance.
“So, what do you do?” I ask her. I purposefully don’t ask for her name because I’m not sure where this is going, and I don’t want to give out my name if she’s only with me for that reason.
“I’m my father’s right-hand woman for our family PR firm. He’s been supposed to retire for ten years.”
I chuckle. “Doesn’t want to give up the reins, huh?”
“Bingo.” She fixes those blue eyes on me. “What about you?”
I exhale and take off my hat, sure she’ll recognize me.
