Page 33 of Claiming Ours
“Or something,” I grunted and released the door, turning on my heels to make my way back to the customer side of the counter. “Everything all good?” I asked, eyeing him with suspicion. “You seemed upset when I saw you through the window.”
“I’m fine, yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, though the quick and defensive tone made me think I was right. “What were you doing back here anyway?”
I studied his fingers that fidgeted with the edge of his shirt and the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his bald head. But it was the dirt and debris coating his black tennis shoes and jeans that had me arching a brow with a pointed look.
“You go on a hike this morning?” I questioned.
Paul’s eyes widened in what looked like fear before he forced his features into a pissed-off expression. “What’s with the twenty questions? Do you want coffee or not? Because I have some shit I need to do in the back.”
“No, I’m good. Already had some at the cabin. You seemed—” I angled my head one way, then the other. “—frustrated earlier. Wanted to check in, make sure all is good.”
Paul huffed and tossed both hands in the air in exaggerated exasperation. That movement drew my calculating gaze to the hand white-knuckling his cell phone. “All well here, no need to worry. You can go back to minding your own damn business. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back in the kitchen.” Without waiting for a response, he stormed into the back, shoving the swinging door so hard it crashed against the wall.
I waited a few seconds, stare locked on where he disappeared, trying to put the puzzle pieces together on what the hell just went down. Paul was hiding something, but what and why, I wasn’t sure. Or maybe because of everything that was going on in our small town, I was teetering on the edge of hypervigilant and paranoid more than normal.
I scraped my calloused palm across my mouth as I debated whether following him to demand answers was worth the additional time away from Baylee. It didn’t take but a second to conclude that it wasn’t any of my business, and I exited the quaint coffee shop.
Outside, I inhaled deeply through my nose and held it, hoping to ease the tension knotting my gut, then started toward Baylee’s clinic, only to freeze mid-step at the distinctive click of a lock being engaged. Glancing over my shoulder, I found Paul on the other side of the glass door, his face barely visible through the sticker of the coffee shop’s logo, flipping the Closed sign around. Frustration and anger had my muscles tightening and my hands curling into fists at my sides, knowing he’d just closed his store so I wouldn’t return to ask more questions.
Mentally filing the strange incident away to figure out later, I forced my feet to keep moving. By the time I stepped inside the clinic, the incident with Paul was forgotten, replaced withanticipation of seeing Baylee. But it quickly turned to fear, my heart stopping in my fucking chest when a scream rattled through the waiting room from the exam room area.
Storming down the hall, bloodlust thrumming through my veins, I slammed a shoulder into the closed exam room door, busting it off its hinges. Hand hovering over the holstered gun on my belt, I took in every detail of the small space.
A wide-eyed Baylee kneeled on the floor with a large yellow lab hovering over her. Her shocked expression leveled my way, and the dog’s behavior, his long whiplike tail going back and forth as his tongue hung out of his mouth, told me she wasn’t being attacked. After another once-over to ensure she was unharmed, I slid my stony stare to the stranger in the room.
He returned my glare likeIwas the danger and held a long-ass knife out in front of him as he slowly inched to stand in front of Baylee. Years of training took over as I advanced on the man to neutralize the threat to my girl. The knife clattered to the floor at the asshole’s feet a second before I had him pinned face-first against the wall with both hands secured behind his back.
Baylee shouted my name as I fought to maintain my hold as he did everything he could to break free.
“Damnit, Liam, stop hurting him,” she shrieked, now pulling at my arm.
“Who the fuck are you?” I snarled in the asshole’s ear, slamming him against the wall when he pushed back into me. “Fucking stop.”
“Youstop,” Baylee screeched, tossing up both hands before placing them on her hips. “If you’ll give me two seconds to explain, I’ll tell you who this is and why he’s here.”
“You screamed when I walked in,” I said, taking my eyes off the threat for half a second to look at Baylee, only to grimace at her furious expression zeroed right on me.
Well, fuck.
“Because Elvis here kissed me, tongue and all.”
Red coated my vision once her words processed.
As if sensing his imminent death after that statement, the fucker bucked against me at just the right angle to break free from my hold and then turned, fist swinging right at my face. With a malicious smirk, I ducked and followed through with my own to his stomach, which connected exactly where I wanted.
The guttural pain-filled grunt had a manic smile spreading across my face as I pulled back, ready to knock him the fuck out with one punch to the temple. But a flash of white-blonde hair and glaring crystal blue eyes froze me in place.
“What the hell are you doing?” the stranger gasped, trying to catch his breath while attempting to pull Baylee behind him. “Never do that again. You could get seriously hurt, Bay.”
Bay?
My eyes flicked between the two, my brain attempting to catch up to reality since it seemed my initial assumption was wrong.
“Liam won’t hurt me,” she huffed, trying to get around the guy, but he kept shifting side to side to prevent her from getting between us again. “Damnit, how is it possible to now have two overbearing, protective assholes in my life?”
I slowly dropped my fist but stayed alert just in case.
“I think most women would consider themselves lucky to just have one,” the guy said with a shy smile as he looked down at my girl. A low growl built in my chest at the soft look he gave her, but it silenced when he reached between us, initiating a handshake. “Memphis Thomas. I was a friend of your girl’s and Dean’s back in high school.”
