I press a soft kiss to her lips. "We’ll fly home in the morning."
"Good." She doesn't move from where she's tucked herself against my side. "I love you, Hayden. I know I said it before. But I'm saying it again so you know it wasn't just the endorphins."
"I never doubted it for a second, Sunshine."
"Yes, you did."
I chuckle. "I wondered if I was hallucinating for maybe three seconds."
She laughs against my shoulder, and I hold her like I just got lucky.
A shout cuts across the plaza, breaking the peace.
It isn't words at first, just a raw burst of sound, male, furious, coming from somewhere behind and to the left. The people nearest to us turn toward it. Sunny stiffens under my arm.
Then the sound sharpens into a voice, and I recognize the name in it.
"Sunny!"
Derek Parker storms across the plaza at a rapid pace. His face is mottled red under the string lights, his jacket hanging open and his collar disheveled. Every line of his body broadcasts something between fury and panic, and his eyes are fixed on Sunny.
I move without thinking. My arm comes out and Sunny steps back as I put myself between her and the forty feet of distance closing between us and Derek Parker.
"Charlie—"
"Stay behind me." Not a request. My feet plant and I square up. Derek's angry and not thinking straight, which makes him dangerous and also unpredictable.
Derek pulls up short when he registers that there's now a wall of six-foot-two cowboy between him and Sunny. His mouth works for a moment, rage and calculation fighting for control of his face.
"You." He jabs a finger toward Sunny. "You screwed everything up. The deal is dead, Evan backed out, all because ofyou. Do you understand that?! My parents cut me off. They’re done with me, but you could have fixed that. You could have said yes, taken over, and none of this would be happening to me!"
I don’t move or raise my voice. “Walk away, Derek.Now.” There’s nothing in my tone that invites debate.
"She owes me?—"
"She owes you nothing, and you need to move on." I crowd him just enough to make the point. “Walk away, Derek.Now.”I stare him down, with no invitation to negotiate. "It's the last time I'm saying it."
Sunny's voice comes from just behind my right shoulder. "Find someone else to manipulate, Derek. It won't be me. You made your own bed."
Whether it’s her words, her composure in the face of his unraveling, or the simple fact that she isn't afraid of him, it's the match to the fuse. His face goes from red to something uglier, and he lunges sideways, going for Sunny with his arm extended.
I catch him by the collar before his hand gets within two feet of her. The momentum of his own lunge carries him forward and down, and I add to it, slamming him to the cobblestones with a controlled force that's harder than it needs to be and exactly as hard as it should be. He hits with a solid thud that punches the air out of him, his face bouncing off the hard stone. For a moment he’s stunned into stillness. He gasps, sucking in a breath to refill his lungs, and scrabbles to get upright, his elbow coming back in the direction of my jaw.
I let the elbow go wide and put a knee on the pavement beside him, my hand flat against his shoulder pinning him down with the strength that comes with wrestling ornery horses into submission. He fights it for four or five seconds before his body registers that it's not going to work.
"You're finished here. Don’t make me prove it," I snarl, pressing harder.
The people around us have pulled back, giving the scene room. Two men from a nearby restaurant entrance have stepped forward but are holding at a distance, watching. Derek's breath comes in ragged gasps, his face against the cobblestone.
"Get up slowly," I bite out. "Walk in that direction." I nod toward the far side of the plaza. "You come anywhere near Sunny again, and we’re not having this conversation twice."
Derek staggers up. His eyes find Sunny over my shoulder, and the look in them is still venomous, but the fight has gone. He's calculating again, which means he's thinking about consequences. He straightens his collar with a motion that's trying very hard to look dignified and only manages comically pathetic.
"This isn't over," he whines.
"Yes, it is." I hold his look until he looks away first, and then I watch him stumble across the plaza without looking back.
There’s a beat of silence, then the normal hum of the evening reasserts itself. I turn back to Sunny.
