Page 64 of Country Contract

“I bet; you definitely don’t look like the usual small-town girl.”

“I don’t?” She acts as if she’s insulted.

Assessing the table, none of them do. Cassidy seems to blend in better than the rest, but only because she’s been here a few years.

“Not at all. I’d notice if a girl like you was in a town like this.” God, could this guy be any cheesier?

“I get that a lot,” she jokes. I gave her similar shit when I first met her, except mine was a lot less flirtatious.

“Really? I bet they don’t mean it the way I do.” This guy actually fucking winks at her, and to my complete shock, aquick laugh escapes her. The guy practically lights up the bar, he’s so happy with her response.

“Sorry,” she starts, wiping a little spit from the corner of her mouth. “That was just so cheesy, this whole interaction is. I can’t take you seriously. Does this shit actually work when women come to this town? Am I so far from civilization that a few halfhearted lines get women riled up?”

Beanie Boy gets uncomfortable with her harsh words, and she takes this as her cue to leave. When she stands, the guy’s eyes travel up and meet her eyes. He looks down to see how big her heels are, and, to my surprise, she lifts one foot a little to show it’s only a small chunk of rubber on the bottom of her combat boots. When his eyes make their way back up to her face, she gives him a smug look. This has to happen to her all the time.

“I’m going to run to the washroom,” she states, taking off for the small hall in the back. I set off after her, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Silas trying to flag me down. He likely needs me to get back to helping him, but I have to take care of something first.

It’s not the bar that needs my attention, it’s my hot-as-fuck tenant.

Chapter 27

Harrison

Harlow is about to turn right into the women’s bathroom when I grab her arm and move to drag her into a room that acts as the bar office.

In a flash, she turns and throws a tight fist into my throat. If she was aiming for that shorter guy’s face, she would have hit it dead on.

Me?

No, no, no.

She punched me as if my Adam’s apple was the bullseye on a target. She punched me like one of those bar games with the hanging speedbag. She punched me so hard that I don’t even realize I’m not breathing.

“HOLY FUCK! HARRISON!” she screams. My hand releases her as I put both of them on my throat as if I’m choking.

I am—just not on food. I’m choking on the ball stuck in my throat as I fight for air.

By the grace of some god, I hear my first breath, and it’s a loud wheeze followed by coughing andgasping.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Harlow yells, rubbing my shoulders, like that’s going to help. It doesn’t.

I start to buckle over, almost passing out. I see bright lights and stars. Honestly, I should just let myself go and stop fighting this because it’s more painful to try and breathe.

When I feel myself starting to go limp, Harlow holds me up and looks me in the eyes.

“Breathe! Damn it! Breathe!” She’s so worried; I have never seen her so worked up. It’s almost as if she likes me. Her cool, collected composure is completely lost in this moment.

I nod and wheeze, trying to take a slow breath, noticing that my cheeks are wet.

Am I crying?

Her hands cup my face, thumbs wiping away my tears.

“Oh my gawd! Are ya’ll okay?” I hear a heavy drawl coming from a female voice.

“I don’t know! I thought he was someone else, and I punched him. He’s been white, purple, and blue. Oh my—fuck! Harrison, I’m so sorry! Should we call someone?” Harlow is downright crazy with worry.

I would laugh if I wasn’t in pain and regaining my senses. I go to swallow, and it hurts like a mother fucker.

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