Page 14 of Mechanic Daddy's Girl
I know it’s a yes before I look at my phone. Still, I scan the face, see Travis’s name, and nod. But I won’t answer him this time. We made the point as clear as we could.
I’m on vacation, and I won’t let him get in the way of it again.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood a little. Though my voice is still a little shaky since I don’t know how he’s going to react to me making a joke right now. “Jealous I have to talk to another guy?”
“More than you could ever know.” My heart skips a beat, and my legs instinctively part at the harsh finality in Boone’s tone. But he doesn’t give me time to process what I just heard, and while his stone-cold eyes remain fixed on my cellphone, he asks, “Are you going to answer him?”
“Not planning on it.” His gaze moves up to meet mine, and I gulp at the smile crawling across his face.
“Good girl.” Boone smiles, and we start walking again.
“Shit, I forgot something,” Boone grumbles as we get to the checkout line. “I’ll run back and grab it. You okay to hold our spot?”
“I’ll be fine,” I giggle. I could get used to this feeling of being treated like a dainty princess. Doted over to the point where Boone doesn’t even want me standing in a line alone.
Before he leaves, he places a soft kiss atop my crown and then shuffles back through the store to whatever he forgot.
But it doesn’t take long for me to regret my decision when I notice the two guys in front of me staring. More like ogling. Eyes traveling up and down my body like they’re sizing me up for purchase.
“What’s a fine piece of ass like you doing in our sleepy town?” the one on the right asks. The pair are complete opposites of one another. The one on the right, buck-toothed and pot-bellied, while his friend is gaunt and balding.
To avoid unnecessary issues, I ignore his comment and pretend I didn’t hear anything. Boone can barely hold it together when it’s my boss bothering me. I can’t imagine things would go too well for someone in the same room.
“You ignoring me, girl?” he asks after an awkwardly long minute passes. “You wouldn’t wanna make me upset now, would you?”
“Look, whatever you’re trying to do, I’m not interested.” Cut this off before it has a chance to escalate. At least, that’s what I want to do, but the annoyance flickering in the guy’s eyes says that ship has sailed.
“I’m not trying nothing,” he says. “If I wanted to do something, I’d just do i?—"
“What the fuck did you just say?” Boone’s voice roars overhead. He slides a protective arm around my waist, tugging me tightly against his rock-hard, flexing abdomen.
And I’ve never felt safer than this.
Both of their heads snap up to Boone.
“He was only joking,” the smaller, skinny one says. “We’re not looking for any trouble.”
“It found you anyway.” I can feel the rough, staggered breathing rumble in Boone’s chest. His hand on my belly, shaking in rage. Partly as a sign that I belong to him, but mostly using me as a barrier to stop himself from tearing the two guys to pieces.
“Nah, fuck this,” the bigger one says. “Who do you think you’re talking to, old man?”
While he squares up to Boone, the other looks ready to piss his pants. I’d be doing the same if I were either of them.
“Think you’re hard coz you’ve got muscles? Buddy, you ain’t shit.” Taunting Boone can’t be a good idea, and this line’s his entrance fee to the lesson.
I don’t notice his hand moving away from me. I just feel the air shift around me and hear the crack of Boone’s flat palm against his cheek. The impact is so devastating that his mottled skin instantly turns red, and his face begins to swell.
The guy recoils two steps before falling flat on his ass as Boone circles me and steps over to him. Arms resting at his side, not posturing for a fight, even though one’s likely to break out. Exuding confidence and his protective side without needing to show outward aggression.
“You might want to think carefully of what you say next,Buddy.” Boone’s eyes are fixed on the guy sitting down. The other, too afraid to move from his spot, isn’t a threat.
“Christ, man. What the?—”
Boone doesn’t let him finish, leaning forward and hoisting the guy to his feet. He grabs him by the collar of his sweat-stained shirt and drags him in front of me.
“Apologize,” Boone barks.
“Wha—”
