Page 10 of She Autumn Be Mine

“C’mon now, Montana girl. Give me your phone number. We come through twice a season, and I tip like I ride, long and hard,” he drawled, and pestered me a few more minutes for my digits.

I finally set water in front of him, with a flutter of my lashes. “You can tip all you want, I’d be grateful. But my number isn’t on the menu.”

“See, why’d you have to go and say that? Playing hard to get? Come ‘ere.” He reached for my wrist, but it never landed.

Jake was off his stool, standing beside him, peering down his nose so fast. The suddenness of it produced a wind that almost blew my hair back. The cowboy didn’t see him coming.

Cash joined him, warning the guy away with a grin and a twitch of his head, almost a dare.

The pressure in the room changed. Anyone left for the last call watched the entire scene, waiting with held breath what might happen next.

I’d never been the subject of a bar fight, but I had nothing to worry about. Rodeo man’s eyes played ping-pong from one SEAL to the other and back, the two of them like a thick brick wall.

He correctly assessed he was out numbered—by at least six inches. He was maybe five-nine on a good day.

“Ma’am. Fellas. Thanks for your service.” The guy pulled out his wallet, left a wad of cash on the bar, and he and his crew disappeared out the door.

I exhaled, glad it hadn’t come to a fight over me. And what the hell was Jake thinking, anyway? I could have handled that guy, and if not, surely Smitty would have stepped in. With my hands on my hips, I glared at Jake and Cash when they walked out of the bar.

“See you, darlin’.” Cash waved. A few women followed out after them.

By the time all of us on staff cleaned up and headed out the door, my feet dragged, and I still had a block to walk to get home. I’d pay for the extra unexpected shift tomorrow.

Outside, I stopped short, finding Jake leaning against his truck, thumbs in his belt loops. So tired, lacking any kind of willpower whatsoever, my eyes toured down his tight Wrangler jeans to his shiny black boots and back up.

Yes, Jake was a fine-ass looking man.

“What are you doing? You didn’t have to stay and wait for me,” I complained, passing him by.

“We have one rule at the ranch. We take care of our own. It’s bad enough you walk home from work every night while I watch Stetson and worry if you’ll be safe.”

“You worry about me?” I stopped and squared off with him.

“What do you think? You and Stetson both.”

“Well don’t.”

“Hard not to when I promised your⁠—”

“I know, I know. You made a vow to Trig.”

His phone chirped. This late at night?

“It’s Avery, checking what time you’ll be back.” His thumbs moved across the screen. “I texted Harper earlier, who gave me her daughter’s phone number, and then I called her. And you were right, things seemed fine with her and Stetson tonight.”

“What? I thought you trusted me.” I crossed my arms, glaring.

“Of course, I do. But I couldn’t help myself. I had to check on our little buddy.”

“Our?” I gaped at him and his stupid sheepish face.

“My mistake. Your son.”

“You should worry about your own self, Jake. You and that woman seemed to have a nice time there.” Shit. I wasn’t going to bring it up. My mouth had other plans as if the night was still itching under my skin.

“Her name’s Tess.”

“Whatever. I wish you two all the best.” The words tasted like acid on my tongue and I took off again toward home.