“Look, Stone,” Keets starts, suddenly sounding as nervous as the time we found ourselves in the middle of a live minefield. “It’s not up to me to tell you about Shannon’s life. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you herself.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I look at Keets. What the hell is with this sudden attitude change? “Is she in some sort of trouble?”

“I’ve already said too much,” Keets says, a shutter coming down over his eyes. “And you need to get to the bar. Come on; I’ll drive you.”

Keets leaves the house quickly, leaving me scratching my head.

What the hell is going on?

 

“You’re here,” Shannon says blandly.

She looks exhausted, and I know it’s all my fault. Her bun has come loose, leaving curly tendrils to stick to her face and neck. Her face is flushed, her eyes lackluster, changed from a pale sky blue to a deep ocean blue-green. She’s beautiful, and she’s pissed. “Yeah,” I say a little sheepishly, hanging my black leather jacket up behind the bar. “Sorry I’m late.” We’re the last two people in the bar.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she snaps, waving a cloth in her hand as she scrubs furiously at the bar. “I was just closing up. You know, after you left me high and dry all fucking night.”

I flinch as she drops the rag and turns to face me, her small hands curled into fists by her side. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Are you always this angry?” I laugh, stacking dirty glasses on a tray, quickly ducking as the rag flies at my head. “What the hell, Shan?”

“I told you, don’t call me Shan!” she hisses, her chest heaving as she glares at me.

“What should I call you then? You keep fucking hissing like a little hellion cat, but you’re as tiny as a kitten, so I doubt you could do any serious damage.” I click my fingers as a proverbial light bulb appears over my head. “I got it,” I crow. “I’ll call you kitten.”

She pales. “Don’t,” she says quietly, her voice low and menacing. I like a challenge, and she’s opened the door to a whole lot of shit-stirring. “What’s the matter, kitten?” I ask mockingly. “Don’t like your new nickname?”

“I said don’t,” she growls, her upper lip curling in disgust.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to do about it,” I say, realizing I may have pushed her too far. “But the fact of the matter is, I have work to do, and—”

I don’t get to finish that sentence. She flies at me, her arms outstretched. I try to brace myself, but the attack is so unexpected that all I can do is wrap my arms around her and try to protect her from the fall as we both topple to the cold, hard floor. Shannon struggles against me, and I do my best to grab her fists as they pummel my shoulders. “What the fuck?” I yell, finally latching onto her wrists and holding them down as I flip her onto her back. This bitch has gone crazy. I straddle her hips and glare down at her as she breathes heavily, giving a small, occasional struggle as she tries to pull her wrists free. But I have her now, and she’s not going anywhere until I say so. “What the hell is your problem?” I shout, ignoring the tiny fleck of spittle that flies out of my mouth and lands on her cheek.

Shannon glares up at me, her eyes flashing. “Let me go,” she growls, struggling once more to free her wrists. I don’t know what the hell her problem is. Why is she so pissed about a stupid little joke? It doesn’t make any sense. But right now, she’s furious, defiant…and beautiful. How the hell am I meant to calm her down? She continues to fight me, until I do the only thing I can think of.

I kiss her.

I’m not sure if she’s simply taken by surprise, or if the kiss is effective at calming her down, because all of a sudden it seems as though all the fight has left her body. My lips mold to hers, soft, warm, and pliant. It’s meant to be a brief kiss, designed to calm her down, make her stop struggling. But as it continues, I feel the first stirrings of desire. It really has been too long since I’ve been with a woman. I’m not prepared for the feel of her tongue as it runs along my bottom lip. And I’m definitely not prepared for the shock of desire that slams into my body. Groaning, I release her wrists, moving my hands down to grip her hair as I hold her head still. Shannon moans into my mouth, and my cock hardens in my jeans. She feels so good, so right. I think she’s enjoying it, so I’m surprised when she bites down hard on my bottom lip. I yelp as I taste blood, and she follows it up with a swift kick between my legs. I grunt as I roll off her, grabbing my balls. Fuck shrapnel in my leg. This, this, is the worst fucking pain I have ever felt in my life.

Shannon scrambles to her feet and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, glaring down at me. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, do you understand?” she yells.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shout, curled up in the foetal position, a hand wedged firmly between my legs. I’m in agony. I’ve seriously misjudged the situation.

“What the hell happened?” Keets gasps as he steps inside the bar and sees us. I can only imagine how this must look.

Shannon seems as though she’s struggling to slow down her breathing, smoothing her hair with one hand. “You need to tell him to keep his fucking hands to himself,” she seethes, pointing at me as I slowly get to my feet, my hand on my balls to make sure she didn’t accidentally kick one up into my asshole. One . . . two. Okay, I think I’m good. Christ, that fucking hurt.

“Oh, man.” Keets laughs. “Don’t tell me he tried to kiss you.”

I look between the two of them as I stand there hunched over, protective hand still on my balls even as my face is contorted in pain. “You’re fucking crazy,” I gasp, looking at Shannon.

“Wow, Shan, you really did a number on the poor guy,” Keets says, smiling as he shakes his head. What the fuck? Is he serious? A brother just got his ass handed to him, and he’s fucking laughing? “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to him.”

“Make sure you do,” she snaps as I make my way slowly over to the door, assisted by Keets. The pain is starting to ease, and I straighten up then turn to glare at Shannon. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on,” I say in a low voice. “But if you wanted to get into my pants, all you had to do was ask.” Am I really making jokes at a time like this? I see her lips purse and I swallow hard, ignoring the pain. Determined not to let her see how much I’m still hurting, I turn my back to Shannon and Keets and walk out of the bar, slamming the door closed behind me.

 

I sigh and sag back against the bar. Reaching up with one hand, I pull the tie from my hair and run my fingers through the soft curls.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Keets says, flashing me a grin as he walks over to the bar and pulls up a stool. I feel bad, but not enough to apologize. I shake my head. “He was a jerk,” I state, turning away from him and picking up the rag up off the floor.

“He’s a good guy, Shan,” Keets answers, swivelling around on the bar stool to watch me aggressively attack one of the tables with the rag.

“Oh, yeah?” I challenge, not looking up. “Tell that to my lips. He attacked them like some primal beast.” They still tingle from the memory. No, stop it, Shannon.

“So? The man’s had some bad luck. Throw him a fucking bone, Shannon. Your life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows.”

I sigh and drop the rag on the table. “I know.” I sigh, walking around the bar and into the back office. Taking a seat at the large wooden desk, I glance up as Keets follows me in and sits opposite me with his feet up on the desk, completely silent. I try to ignore him as I pull out the receipts from the day, along with my favorite pen. It’s ridiculously oversized, with a large white feather on top and a white bow appliqué. I’ve often been laughed at for my choice in stationary, but the pen was a gift from my late daddy, and I refuse to use any other. I glance up as Keets lets out a soft chuckle, frowning as the sound annoys me. “Don’t start,” I warn.