her.
“My truck’s out front. How far are you from here?”
She hesitated, shaking her head. Finally, “Only a few miles.”
“Let me drive you home.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “It’ll give me a chance to apologize.”
Her eyes narrowed and she made a tiny sniff of disdain. “Little bit late, don’t you think, Chief ?”
There was no respect in the title, just derision.
“It’s a lot late, but I’d really appreciate the opportunity regardless.”
She pressed her lips together and he could see her internal argument. She gave a small, terse nod.
“Fine. I can’t get ahold of my friends, would rather not call my brothers, and hate spending the money on a cab. Not that you can ever bloody find one around here.”
He let out a breath of relief, not realizing he’d been holding it. He’d wanted this moment more than he’d imagined.
By habit, he placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the door. The withering look she shot him had him starting to remove it, until a mocking voice stopped him.
“I’ll be damned if my Highland hottie doesn’t get around.”
The tension in Kenzie’s body was instant. He felt her spine stiffen against his fingertips, before she shocked him further by stepping backward, closer to him. As if seeking protection.
Brett turned to seek out the voice and found a man who looked to be in his early thirties coming down the hall from the bathroom.
“Arriving with one guy, leaving with another.” The man grinned and took a step forward. “Actually, I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you didn’t take the whole group of men home with you.”
Oh the hell he did. Dropping his hand from Kenzie’s back, Brett approached the other man.
“Is there a problem?” The blood in his veins began a hot, furious throbbing. “Just what the hell makes you think it’s okay to talk to a lady that way?”
“Lady? Oh, Kenzie’s no lady, are you, baby? Tell him about that time—”
Instinct had Brett’s fist flying, but Kenzie grabbed his arm in record speed, barely stopping the punch. The man flinched and stepped back, looking completely shocked that someone would try and hit him.
“Stop,” she pleaded, her words ragged. Pained. “He’s not worth it, Brett. I promise.”
Shit. She’d probably saved his ass. He blinked, realizing how close he’d come to giving this guy the beat-down he deserved. It might’ve gotten him dishonorably discharged from the Navy too.
One glance at Kenzie’s white face and he realized his priorities needed to be her, not this piece of shit.
Taking a step toward the man, he said quietly, “You’re lucky, douche bag. Damn lucky I’m not adding to those ugly scars on your face.”
The man’s expression turned to one of fury, as he reached up and touched a scarred cheek.
There was already a growing audience of people watching them with a fascination that was a bit unnerving. With Kenzie still clutching his arm, her expression furtive, Brett backed away.
“Let’s get you home.” He gave a terse nod and led her outside the restaurant.
When they were far enough away from the building he gave her a sideways glance.
Her face was still pale and her eyes had an alarming vacantness that seemed completely uncommon from what he knew of her.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” The one word was devoid of emotion.
“The hell you are. Who was he?”
She gave a bitter laugh and a shake of her head. For a moment he figured she’d blow him off and give him some bullshit answer.
“Kenzie?”
“Charles Richland, otherwise known as the man who roughed me up and attempted to rape me about a decade ago.”
The truth knocked Brett sideways. He stumbled to a halt and caught her arm again, turning her to look at him.
“You’re serious?”
“Aye. People generally don’t encourage rape humor.” She gave a twisted smile, and for a moment there was a flicker of emotion in her eyes.
“Jesus.” He stopped and glanced
“My truck’s out front. How far are you from here?”
She hesitated, shaking her head. Finally, “Only a few miles.”
“Let me drive you home.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “It’ll give me a chance to apologize.”
Her eyes narrowed and she made a tiny sniff of disdain. “Little bit late, don’t you think, Chief ?”
There was no respect in the title, just derision.
“It’s a lot late, but I’d really appreciate the opportunity regardless.”
She pressed her lips together and he could see her internal argument. She gave a small, terse nod.
“Fine. I can’t get ahold of my friends, would rather not call my brothers, and hate spending the money on a cab. Not that you can ever bloody find one around here.”
He let out a breath of relief, not realizing he’d been holding it. He’d wanted this moment more than he’d imagined.
By habit, he placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the door. The withering look she shot him had him starting to remove it, until a mocking voice stopped him.
“I’ll be damned if my Highland hottie doesn’t get around.”
The tension in Kenzie’s body was instant. He felt her spine stiffen against his fingertips, before she shocked him further by stepping backward, closer to him. As if seeking protection.
Brett turned to seek out the voice and found a man who looked to be in his early thirties coming down the hall from the bathroom.
“Arriving with one guy, leaving with another.” The man grinned and took a step forward. “Actually, I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you didn’t take the whole group of men home with you.”
Oh the hell he did. Dropping his hand from Kenzie’s back, Brett approached the other man.
“Is there a problem?” The blood in his veins began a hot, furious throbbing. “Just what the hell makes you think it’s okay to talk to a lady that way?”
“Lady? Oh, Kenzie’s no lady, are you, baby? Tell him about that time—”
Instinct had Brett’s fist flying, but Kenzie grabbed his arm in record speed, barely stopping the punch. The man flinched and stepped back, looking completely shocked that someone would try and hit him.
“Stop,” she pleaded, her words ragged. Pained. “He’s not worth it, Brett. I promise.”
Shit. She’d probably saved his ass. He blinked, realizing how close he’d come to giving this guy the beat-down he deserved. It might’ve gotten him dishonorably discharged from the Navy too.
One glance at Kenzie’s white face and he realized his priorities needed to be her, not this piece of shit.
Taking a step toward the man, he said quietly, “You’re lucky, douche bag. Damn lucky I’m not adding to those ugly scars on your face.”
The man’s expression turned to one of fury, as he reached up and touched a scarred cheek.
There was already a growing audience of people watching them with a fascination that was a bit unnerving. With Kenzie still clutching his arm, her expression furtive, Brett backed away.
“Let’s get you home.” He gave a terse nod and led her outside the restaurant.
When they were far enough away from the building he gave her a sideways glance.
Her face was still pale and her eyes had an alarming vacantness that seemed completely uncommon from what he knew of her.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” The one word was devoid of emotion.
“The hell you are. Who was he?”
She gave a bitter laugh and a shake of her head. For a moment he figured she’d blow him off and give him some bullshit answer.
“Kenzie?”
“Charles Richland, otherwise known as the man who roughed me up and attempted to rape me about a decade ago.”
The truth knocked Brett sideways. He stumbled to a halt and caught her arm again, turning her to look at him.
“You’re serious?”
“Aye. People generally don’t encourage rape humor.” She gave a twisted smile, and for a moment there was a flicker of emotion in her eyes.
“Jesus.” He stopped and glanced
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