The lawyer in me cataloged it automatically: unwanted touching after being told to stop. That was battery—technically assault in some jurisdictions. He’d already committed a crime. Faith, on the other hand? She was within her rights to use reasonable force to defend herself. The finger bend was proportional to the threat. Textbook self-defense.
Not that I gave a damn about the legal technicalities right now.
“Here’s a free life lesson,” she continued. “You’re not God’s gift to women. We don’t all want your attention. And we definitely don’t want your hands on us. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Otherwise, these fingers? They’d be making sounds fingers shouldn’t make.”
Jesus.That was hot.
She shoved his hand away and released him.
He cradled his hand against his stomach, glaring at her. “Crazy bitch.”
And there went my amused smile.
I crossed the distance in six strides and shoved both hands against his chest. He flew backward, stumbling to keep his balance.
So, yeah, that would definitely constitute battery. Did I care? Not even a little. Protecting her fit my code.
Faith’s eyes went wide.
“Apologize to her.” I stepped forward again, getting in his face. “Now.”
The guy looked between us, sizing me up, realizing I had at least four inches and forty pounds on him.
“Sorry,” he muttered in Faith’s direction.
“Look at her when you say it,” I growled. “And mean it.”
His jaw clenched, but he turned to Faith. “I apologize.”
“If I ever see you near her again,” I promised, my voice low enough that only he could hear, “those fingers will be the least of your problems.”
Technically a threat. Christ, five minutes around Faith, and I was racking up potential misdemeanors like poker chips.
Like the coward he was, he scurried away.
I turned to find Faith standing there, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in that way that always made my pulse rate spike.
I expected … I don’t know. A thank-you?
But this was Faith. She never did what I expected. Which was exactly why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“I had that covered,” she said.
I walked closer, sliding my hands into my pockets to keep from doing something stupid. Like touching her. Like pulling her against me and checking she was really okay. “I know.”
Her eyebrow climbed higher, silently demanding an explanation.
“I saw you bend his fingers back.” I couldn’t hide my smirk. “Gotta say, that was entertaining as hell. Guy should’ve learned boundaries in kindergarten.” I arched a curious brow. “What would you have done next if I hadn’t stepped in?”
A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “I was about thirty seconds away from explaining that his compensating sports car in the valet line? Everyone knows it’s because he’s hung like a hamster. And if that didn’t work …” She shrugged. “I was going to knee him in the balls so hard, his ancestors would feel it.”
I burst out laughing. Full-on, head-thrown-back laughter that echoed through the marble lobby. “Hung like a hamster?”
“What? It’s probably true. Did you see that car? Classic overcompensation.”
“Jesus, Faith.” I was still chuckling. “Now I almost regret stepping in. That would’ve been way more entertaining to watch.”
“Right?” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “You robbed me of my moment. I had a whole emasculation speech prepared. I was going to make him cry.”
