Page 52 of Kissing Her Rescuer

Nash appeared next to Dewey's side. “You know we're here.”

Hudson subtly rolled his shoulders. “Yup.”

“Hell.” Grayson pushed back. “We're like a freaking gang.”

Hugh held up his hands, his voice rising to a near shout. “This isn't a damn Hollywood movie. What the hell is going on?”

George cracked his knuckles. “'Liza decided to pull a hustle on some asshole named Tommy. He's sayin' she was all hot for him, and they bet a turn in his bed. Even if she'd done that, I don't like the way he's talkin' 'bout her. Callin' her out by name and shit. I mean, some of those men out there know her.”

“She did what?” Hugh roared.

Dewey held his hands up, hoping to calm Hugh down. “I was here when it happened, Hugh. She kicked Tommy's ass, took him for $280 before I made her give it back.” He’d kept her safe.

While the other guys looked at each other confused, Hugh's face turned an odd shade of red that couldn’t be good for his heart.

Dewey couldn’t deal with Hugh. Tommy was the only person on his mind.

George stood there, scanning the room as the guys seemed to wait for some other explanation for Eliza's actions. “Doesn’t anyone want to come out there and handle this? I can do it.” He watched Dewey. “But I figured her bodyguard, here, would want a piece of the action. My guys will back you if these won’t. Not that you’ll need it against the idiot.”

Bodyguard. Not an inaccurate statement. “George,” he started, reaching out and shaking George's hand. “I think I should introduce myself. I'm Deputy Dewey Mitchell, Eliza's boyfriend and father of her child.” He hitched a thumb at Cameron. “He's also a deputy and Eliza's cousin.”

George blinked, and there was no mistaking the flicker of shock.

Dewey pointed at Grayson, who unfolded from his seat, looking every bit the part he played in his movies. “He's a trained assassin and heralmostbrother-in-law.”

George's mouth dropped open as he recognized Grayson. “Wow. You're in that movie.”

Dewey continued. “His fiancé had the misfortune of dating Tommy for a while,” he said as he pointed at Hudson.

George kicked his chin toward Nash. “Who's he?”

“Oh,” Nash said, stepping forward and holding out his hand with a casual smile in place that Dewey knew didn't mean shit. “I'm Nash. Here for the beer but always up for a fight.”

“And him?” George looked at Hugh.

Hugh had finally gathered himself enough to speak. “I'm her father.”

George seemed most impressed with that title as both eyebrows shot up. “I guess Tommy is screwed then.” He held out his hand. Hugh reluctantly shook it. “It's a pleasure to meet you. Did you teach Eliza how to shoot pool? I'm sure you're real proud of her.”

“I'm guessing that talent of hustling someone for money came from her ex-husband,” he grumbled. Turning back to Dewey, he motioned to George. “This is who she hung out with on Wednesdays? You let her do this?”

“Let her?” Amusement broke through the tension as a few of the other men chuckled. “Sir, there isn't a person in the world that can make either one of your daughters do a damn thing she doesn't want to do.” Dewey shrugged. “Eliza wanted to play pool. Yes, she used to run a hustle back in the day, and she kicked the shit out of Tommy that night. I mean, cleaned the damn table. And after he threatened her, I think she realized how dumb an idea it was.”

Rhonda came into the room, placing a hand on George's arm, but looking at Cameron and Dewey. “Guys, we have a little situation.”

“We know. Tommy is out there, dragging Eliza's name through the mud.” And Dewey had to handle it without getting to smash his fist into the man’s face because people considered him an “adult” or something like that.

“That's old news, now. I need you in your other role. You know, taking care of the law. Tommy and some guy who seems to know Eliza are kicking the crap out of each other in the parking lot.”

Dewey and Cameron bolted out the door first, Cameron with his cell phone out, getting someone to dispatch a patrol car.

They flew out of the restaurant and almost into the fight, the two men stumbling off the porch and into the gravel parking lot. Tommy was bloodied. A small spark of deep satisfaction coursed through Dewey.

Tommy shifted to the side, Dewey getting a good view of the man throwing the punch.

Zach.

Wider than he remembered. About five-seven. Too slow to dodge a punch.

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