“That man punched me. Arrest him. I'm pressing charges.” Tony demands from the ground, pointing his finger at Dutton, who is standing over him, his hands balled into fists.
“He was making Brooke uncomfortable, and he wouldn't back off no matter how many times I told him,” Dutton defends himself.
“It's true,” Hudson says.
“That man hit me. He assaulted me. I want to press charges. Put him in cuffs and take him away,” Tony repeats, and my father groans.
“Dutton Richford. Are we really back to this?” This time Dutton doesn't say a word about defending me.
“Dad.” I step toward him as he pulls his cuffs from the side of his belt and clicks one open. “Don't do this, please.”
“The law is the law. This man wants to press charges, Brooke. There's not much I can do.”
“Youcannot put him in handcuffs. You can listen to me for?—”
“Brooke. We'll get it sorted at the station. But until then, Dutton, you're coming with me.”
Dutton doesn't even try to resist the arrest. He puts his hands behind his back, his gaze never leaving mine as he says, “You can take me to the station, but the man who's pressing charges against me needs to come too. I don't want him anywhere near your daughter, sir.”
My father’s gaze bounces between me and Dutton.
He groans louder this time, clearly annoyed with everything that is happening, and shakes his head before setting a fuming gaze, one that would snap me into listening mode growing up, on the man who is still wiping blood off his cut lip.
“Follow me.”
“The fuck I am. I came here to talk to Brooke, and I’m not leaving until I do.”
Dutton jerks in my father’s hands, but my father yanks him back and levels the man with another look.
“Either you follow me or I call one of my deputies over hereto put you in handcuffs as well and I get you to the station under completely different circumstances. Now, walk.”
The man glares at Dutton and then at me, but he nods.
As soon as they all head down the street, I fall in line. I can’t let my dad put Dutton behind bars for this. I need to get him to listen.
“Brooke, for the love of god, do not follow us.”
“I’m just?—”
“Brooke!” my dad warns me off.
My lips part to argue, but Dutton beats me to it.
“Do not speak to her like that,” he says.
Dad shoots him his fourth glare in less than five minutes. At this point, I’m not sure he has another look for the evening.
“Then it better be with fucking respect, because anything less than that is unacceptable when it comes to her.”
“Christ,” Dad groans. “Just fucking walk. All of you.”
I hold back my smile until my father has his back to me.
I know the girls would stand up for me if a situation called for it, but hearing Dutton defend me without a care for who he is speaking to is not only extremely endearing, it’s hot as hell.
The last thing I should be thinking about is how much sexier Dutton just became to me, but I can't help it.
I knew my attraction for this man was growing, but it just expanded tenfold.
