Page 6 of Resist

This time, Ainsley didn’t have a chance to respond before Coulton interfered. Not that she would have responded. Cunt was her brother’s second-favorite nickname for her after Painsley. Due to his constant use of the word, it didn’t have the power to wound her anymore.

Coulton, however, clearly didn’t feel the same way. One second, her brother was giving her a dirty look, trying to crowd her, the next, he was shoved against the back wall of the tavern, his feet dangling a couple inches off the ground.

“You need to watch your mouth,” Coulton said.

Eli, the idiot, didn’t seem to gather just how outmatched he was when he spit back, “She’s my fucking sister. I can call her whatever I want.”

Coulton shoved him against the wall again, harder, and Eli grunted in pain.

“No. You can’t,” Coulton said.

Ainsley hadn’t been wrong about her first impression of him. The guy really was Thor. Which was wreaking havoc on her libido, because as he held her brother aloft, his muscular arms rippled and his brawny shoulders flexed…and her girlie parts woke right the hell up.

She caught a glimpse of Maren, standing on the other side of Coulton and Eli, the waitress’s lips curled in a too-satisfied grin. Maren hated Eli, so Ainsley was surprised the waitress was merely smiling. Maren loved to see a few fists fly, so she was showing great restraint in not urging Coulton to pummel Eli.

Glancing around the tavern, she realized everyone was watching the scuffle unfold. Ainsley considered letting it play out a little longer, because the old guys led very small lives and she figured they deserved a bit of entertainment.

However, Coulton’s grip on Eli was a strong one, and her brother was red-faced and struggling to breathe.

Ainsley put her hand on Coulton’s forearm. She couldn’t resist giving it a squeeze. Jesus Christ. She was going to have to rethink her superhero. Coulton might actually be Superman, because the man was made of steel.

“We’re cool,” she said to Coulton. “My brother was just leaving.” She stared Eli down until he gave her a quick nod, silently agreeing to get out.

Coulton held her gaze long enough that she started to question whether he was going to do as she said.

“Seriously,” she added. “This is just another Sunday night around here. No biggie.”

Finally, after thirty more seconds, Coulton loosened his grip and released her brother.

Eli tried to straighten the wrinkles from his shirt, scowling at Coulton, then at her.

When it looked like her brother was going to say something else stupid, she shook her head in warning. She’d called the giant off this time. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to again.

One, because Coulton looked seriously pissed.

And two, because she didn’t want to. Like Maren, she thought a few punches to the head might be the only way to knock some sense into her idiot brother. Not that it had ever worked in the past. God knew Mick had given it the old college try.

Eli scowled, then sidestepped Coulton and stormed out of the tavern without another word.

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that,” Coulton said.

Ainsley shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.” She intended for her words to lighten the mood, but they sent things in a different direction.

“By who?” Coulton asked.

She laughed, despite his deadly serious tone. “You want a list?” she joked.

For a second, it looked like he was going to ask her to start giving him names, but Coulton finally calmed down, his shoulders loosening as he gave her—goddamn, his teeth were white and perfectly straight—another one of those gorgeous smiles.

“All better?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, trying to recall the last time anyone had stood up for her.

Now it was Coulton’s turn to shrug as if he was embarrassed by her gratitude, the fierceness she’d seen in his face as he’d held her brother, melting away completely. “No problem.”

She tilted her head and smiled before she could catch herself. “Nice biceps, by the way.”

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