Page 9 of Her Rugged Guardian

I wondered if Cinnamon Girl had any idea just how much work there was to take care of. The exterior might look pretty, but itwas slowly falling apart. What the hell did it matter? Not my place.

I found a parking place behind the joint, cutting the engine and immediately glancing out the windshield as the sliver of moon finally appeared from behind the thick clouds. I don’t know why I was bothering to look at it other than the last few days had been dark and gloomy, unusual for this time of year.

As I headed around the side of the building, I could swear I heard coyotes in the distance. Snickering, I wondered how her dog would take to the wildlife.

As soon as I walked into Scotty’s I almost turned around. Seeing my brother and some of his hockey buddies sitting at one of the few tables in the back brought a level of irritation my mother had called irrational. My father had told me more than once it was a sin to be jealous of my own younger brother. That wasn’t it but I’d never been one to explain my actions or my emotions and I wasn’t going to start now.

I glared at one of the team members, surprised he didn’t feel a hole burned in the back of his neck. Exhaling, I almost walked out but refused to allow the son of a bitch to get to me any longer.

Fortunately, I made it to the bar without Riley or any of the others noticing me. There was a single barstool left and I thumped down, immediately drumming my fingers on the aging wooden surface. Scotty Freeman needed to fix the place up, but he preferred drinking and gambling away the money he earned. He was busy talking trash to a couple of the locals, finally noticing I’d joined the crowd.

After grabbing the bar towel slung over his shoulder, he slowly sauntered toward me, his glare as evident as mine likely was.

We didn’t like each other. We hadn’t since high school when I’d made the varsity hockey team and he hadn’t. Our feud had only escalated from there. Maybe I’d come here looking for a fight instead of a drink. Whatever the case, my gut churned from the same anger I’d felt for far too long.

“Well, look what the rats allowed out of their damp caves,” Scotty said as he sneered at me.

Instead of dragging him across the bar, I glanced up at one of several television sets that had seen better days. “Beer and a shot of whiskey.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you don’t talk much.”

“I talk, Scott, but only to people who have intelligence and common sense.”

He threw up one hand, placing the other across his heart as he stumbled backward. “Ouch. That hurt. You know, you’ve been nothing but a grouchy son of a bitch since the accident. Maybe it’s time you got that stick unstuck from your tight asshole.”

His buddies laughed but they were easy to ignore. It was rare that a few days went by where I wasn’t reminded how much my personality had changed. Yeah, I was well aware. I’d had three psychiatrists provide clinical explanations as to why just seconds before trying to write a prescription for whatever mind-numbing drug was in fashion that month. Nope. Not this guy.

At least Scotty had the good sense to detect I wasn’t in the mood to be fucked with. Not tonight. Not after meeting Cinnamon Girl. I rolled my eyes, doing my best not to think about how much I’d wanted to tangle my fingers in her long dark hair, fisting it before yanking back her head, driving my cock into the back of her throat.

How long had it been since I’d felt anything other than rage, especially below the belt.

Scotty broke my sinful images when he slammed the Budweiser bottle on the bar, his craggy face breaking into a smile as he shoved the shot glass across the surface. His smirk grew wider when he almost tossed it into my lap. Fuck him. After catching the small glass, I took a long pull of beer, trying to ignore the banter of the drunk assholes at the other end of the bar.

“He used to be a decent player,” one of them said, snorting after doing so. “He even got himself a major contract with the Vancouver Jackals.”

“Yeah, well, he fucked that up like he did everything else in his life,” another asshole said before tossing me a look.

There’d been a time I hadn’t been able to ignore the bullshit comments. At least the thousands of dollars spent on clinical help had convinced me that assaulting anyone who aggravated me wasn’t in my best interest. For some reason, it struck a nerve tonight. I noticed Riley’s approach and shook my head. Why couldn’t he just leave it alone?

“Hey. If I hear you talk about my brother that way ever again, I’m going to drag each one of you by a chain from the back of my pickup truck through town naked. Do you hear me?”

An instant frown crossed my face hearing my brother’s voice. He was the one who usually took the comments in stride, but lately he’d taken to protecting me when I should be doing that for him instead.

“We weren’t sayin’ nothing, Riley. It’s all in good fun.”

“Sure it is, Sam,” Riley retorted. “Why don’t you and your buddies find another place to roost?”

My brother stood only an inch shorter than my six-foot five-inch frame. He was also extremely muscular like I used to be before my life went to shit. If that wasn’t intimidating enough, he had a way of altering his facial expressions, able to make himself look like the devil personified. That scared off most people. He’d been labeled the Intimidator by a reporter, and the nickname had stuck. There were thousands of women on TikTok and Instagram who fawned over him, wearing tee shirts with his picture and the moniker depicted in bold red ink.

If his surly attitude didn’t intimidate folks, his celebrity status did. Tonight, I couldn’t help but be amused. He was giving the nasty dudes the full court press standing in one of his hockey team jerseys, his eyes shimmering even in the dim lighting. Meanwhile, members of his hockey team stood behind him with their arms folded across their massive chests.

I glanced at Bruno, surprised when he held my gaze. We hadn’t talked since my girlfriend had left me, which had suited me just fine. The fact he’d left town after his treachery had been good for his health.

Riley noticed my gaze and lifted his eyebrows, his look of scorn meant to advise me to keep my need for revenge in check. Yeah, fine. Whatever.

Shaking my head, I almost broke out into another smile when six of the guys sitting on the barstools moved away without questioning Riley’s order. He was obviously proud of himself, grinning like the happy kid brother I knew him to be.

“I’ll catch you guys later. Okay?” he said to his entourage, not bothering to wait for any of them to answer before he spun in a full circle, creating dance moves of his own.

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