Page 7 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“Noted.” I disconnect, then pull away from the pump, heading her way.

***

Brandy—

I hear the low rumble before I see him. I glance at the glass doors at the front of the store. Marcus rolls his bike to a stop and backs into a spot at the curb. He definitely looks the part of the bad boy biker as he climbs off. My eyes travel from his black boots to his dark jeans that fit just right over his cute ass. A black leather cut covers his back, with the bottom rocker that reads, prospect. Underneath, a gray thermal shirt hugs his broad chest and shoulders and hangs looser over what I can only imagine are some tight abs. A light stubble grows along his chiseled jawline.

He hangs his helmet off his handlebar and threads a hand through the wavy curls that hang past his collar.

My pulse picks up at the sight of him. I drag in a slow breath, trying to control my surging hormones. Goddamn, the man is sexy as hell.

Strolling through the doors, his eyes immediately search me out, finding me at the taps, drawing a mug of beer. I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from pulling up when that killer smile of his hits me.

He stands at the end, elbows on the bar. “Hey, babe. Almost ready?”

“Let me grab the tab for my last customer.”

Marcus shifts his gaze to the lone man sitting a few barstools down. “Sure thing. I’ll wander the store to stretch my legs.”

I watch him walk to the display of growlers as I set the mug before the middle-aged man with his hand resting on the bar top. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you.”

I slide his receipt and the credit card we held at the register. “Here’s your tab. Top copy is mine, bottom’s yours.”

His hand comes down on top of the receipt and my hand. “And which one do you prefer, top or bottom?”

I jerk my hand back quickly. “Just leave the receipt on the counter.” I move off out of reach and busy myself cleaning glasses, hoping to diffuse the situation. I’m hoping after he signs the receipt, he’ll do as I ask and leave it on the counter, but he seems to be waiting for my return. I’m thankful I’m not alone. Josh is in the back unloading a delivery truck, and Marcus is wandering the store up front.

“All done?” I approach the man, staying far enough away that I’m out of his reach this time.

“Well, I have a question about the bill.” He motions to something too small for me to see, forcing me to move closer. As I do, I notice Marcus now watching the interaction from a few aisles over. I can’t deny his presence gives me a sense of security.

I lean forward to have a look at the tab, and the customer whistles in a low tone.

“Woohoo. Those are some nice tits.”

I immediately straighten, but not before the asshole reaches out to grope me.

I smack his hand, and what happens next is a blur.

Marcus is down the aisle in a flash. He grabs a fistful of the man’s collar and yanks him clear off the stool. The crash of it tipping over brings Josh running from the back.

Marcus holds the asshole customer up with one hand and punches him in the face with his other. He gets in several hits before Josh hooks his arms under Marcus’s armpits and drags him off, shoving him back and getting between the men.

“Marcus was protecting me, Josh,” I yell.

The asshole customer spits blood on the floor. “What the hell?”

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.” Marcus points a finger at him.

“Well, if she didn’t have it all hanging out like it was up for grabs, maybe I wouldn’t try.” He spits another mouthful of blood on the floor.

Marcus stalks slowly toward the man, his voice low and icy. “I don’t care if she’s standing here naked. It doesn’t give you the right to touch her.”

A chill runs down my spine at his words and the tone of his voice. This is a man who doesn’t take shit and isn’t afraid to finish it. My eyes are riveted to him.

“Whatever. You can have the slut.” The asshole customer staggers toward the door, but doesn’t make it two steps before both Marcus and Josh each grab an arm and manhandle him out of it, shoving him to the ground outside.

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