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Okay.
Joe was done. Enough was enough. He’d been warned. The man was clearly asking for a broken finger or two.
She straightened with intent, but before she could turn around, the hand disappeared, and a furious voice from right behind her cut through the ambient noise of the bar.
“If you don’t want to end up with my fist in your face, you’ll stop touching the lady.”
Mike?
Joe was gleeful. And giddy. And she couldn’t wait to see how this played out. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, but when was the last time someone had thought of coming to her rescue? Uh, never?
When Joe straightened and turned, she saw Wendel’s wrist clutched in Mike’s hand.
Mike was furious, Wendel was irate, and Joe was blindingly euphoric.
This could be sooo good.
The bartender spoke from between clenched teeth. “Let go of me right the fuck now, buddy, or we’re going to have a problem.”
The bar went silent, everyone cluing in to the drama unfolding.
“We already have a problem, buddy,” Mike repeated, not loosening his grip. “The lady wasn’t happy.”
“How do you know, and what business is it of yours?”
Mike kept his eyes pinned to the barkeep, but spoke to Joe. “How do you feel about this man having his hands on you?” he asked.
Joe’s grin refused to quit, and she was unable to pull off even a remotely serious face as she filled Mike in. “I’ve told him a hundred times tonight, sugar, that he needs to keep his paws to himself.”
Mike blinked.
Right. The accent. He hadn’t heard it before. But Mike regained his equilibrium quickly enough.
He nodded, a twitch of his lips the only indication that he was amused by her fake-persona, before he continued with Wendel. “Now you see why it’s my business? The lady has clearly asked you a number of times to stop, and you haven’t listened. That’s sexual harassment in my book. So keep it up and find out what happens when you don’t take a woman’s objections, seriously.”
Wendel, the fool, stood taller and displayed his muscles arrogantly, albeit while still remaining Mike’s captive. “Cut the crap, asshole. The bitch is just playing hard to get. She actually loves it.”
Joe could almost see steam coming out of Mike’s ears as his knuckles whitened and his grip tightened. He looked lethal, and Joe thought Wendel would do well to back off. But…
“So why don’t you take a hike.” Wendel continued stupidly, then postured some more while pretty obviously trying not to flinch from the pain Mike was inflicting.
“Honey.” Mike finally turned his gaze toward her while easily maintaining his hold. “Why don’t you get out from behind the bar where you won’t get hurt when your boss and I continue our little chat.”
Joe wanted to stay put, but if Mike wanted to be the hero, she’d let him have it…this time. “You’re no fun, Mike,” she mock pouted, then pursed her lips. “But if you insist.”
Wendel’s loud intake of breath made her smirk.
“You…you two know each other?” he almost squeaked.
Before Joe walked back into the main room, she stood next to Mike, tilting her head up to kiss him on the cheek. “Uh, huh,” she drawled. “This is my sweetie, Mike.”
Wendel’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were new to the area.”
Huh. What a dope. Women couldn’t make friends?
Or maybe he thought his appeal would be so hard to resist, that Joe would sit around pining for him instead of branching out.
Joe didn’t get the sense that Wendel would have forced her into sex, but clearly, he liked being the big cheese in his little world; to flex his muscle and touch—with impunity—what he considered, his. Which included his servers.