Page 14 of Bordeaux Bombshell (Sunshine Cellars #3)

For a second, I wish my old backup were here.

When I first started going out to bars, Kel and Nate insisted on coming with me.

After a few knockdown fights with the overprotective oafs, they stopped interfering when I tried to flirt.

Eventually, I trained Kel to be a pretty good wingman for me, even if Nate was liable to scare them off.

It was like high school all over again, me and the boys.

I never had to worry about being safe; I only had to worry if my target was brave—or cocky—enough to handle an introduction.

It had been perfect.

Even after Kel and June got together and had Olive, Nate kept coming with me. He was never as good at flirting as I was, but he tried.

Clammy fingers stroke the inside of my wrist. Sawyer still has my hand in a vise grip but has flipped it over to examine it. I pull against him, hoping he’ll release me with a steady pressure, but he is too busy unfurling my fingers and examining my palm.

Jesus Christ, how strong is this man’s grip? He’s carrying on a conversation, but I tune him out, still trying to catch Chelsea or Nicole’s eye as they wait their turn by the karaoke stage.

Has thumb wrestling shifted to palm reading?

Seriously? What the fuck is with this guy?

I stop engaging with him, no longer interested in keeping the peace or taking one for the team.

My friends step onto the stage, and the opening notes of Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” play as I try to reclaim my arm.

“Listen—” I half shout, but I’m cut off as Sawyer pulls me into his side, trapping my arm between my chest and his torso.

“Quit fighting it, babe.” He slobbers against my cheek. His breath is repulsive, and I lean as far back as I can.

“There you are, sweet cheeks. I’ve been looking for you for ages.” A low rumble accompanies the looming presence behind my back.

Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath, knowing this rescue is going to cost me. Probably more than my heart can afford, but it’ll have to join all the other moments Nate Ridgefield is charging me emotional interest for.

“Hi, babe,” I grit out between clenched teeth, finally wrenching my hand free from Sawyer’s grip. “I told you to look for the Minnesota twins in the crowd.”

Nate pulls me protectively into his side, one hand gripping the waistband of my jeans like I’m a wayward kitten.

“I assumed she’d be on stage with her friends.

” He says this to Sawyer, who’s staring between the two of us in disbelief.

“Didn’t think you’d be in the crowd and not in the spotlight.

” He directs the barb at me, effectively ignoring the sputtering man in front of us.

“Yeah, right. Back off. She doesn’t know you, man.” Sawyer reaches out and grabs my upper arm, pulling me away from Nate, who lets go of my ass only when I stumble.

Incensed, I shove Sawyer off me. “Let go of me, asshole.” I don’t have to hear it to know Nate is growling behind me. Like a fucking werewolf.

Sawyer looks from me to Nate, disbelief in the scrunch of his eyebrows. “You know this guy?”

“Unfortunately.”

When Sawyer’s eyebrows shoot up, I realize my mistake. “Yes, I know him,” I correct myself, trying to soften my body language as Nate steps close.

His chest presses against my spine, one hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “I’d prefer it if you kept your hands off my girl.”

Again, Sawyer’s eyes bounce from Nate to me. “But you were flirting with me…”

“I was being friendly. Not the same.” I shake my head. I had considered flirting—up until his thumb-wrestling maneuver.

Sawyer scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest, straining the buttons of his shirt. “And you’re dating this guy? He looks like he hasn’t showered in a week.” He sniffs. “Smells like it too.”

Jesus Christ, is this guy really going to pull some red-pill alpha shit right now? Maybe I pegged the wrong one as a werewolf.

Besides, Nate smells exactly like he always does after a long day in the fields—like damp earth, green things, and a little bit sweaty man. I wouldn’t call it unpleasant, but maybe I’m used to it. He smells like what I expect a man to smell like.

Goddammit, there’s another one of those fucking buttons Nate installed in my lizard brain.

“What can I say? She likes a man who’s good with his hands.” Nate smirks before he pulls me back to his side, dropping an arm over my shoulder and tugging a lock of my hair between his fingers.

Sawyer’s cheeks bloom with red as he sputters. “Fucking bitch,” he manages to spit out at me. “Should have known a low-value woman like you would go for a chump like this. If you wanna be with a real man—”

“Yeah, we’re done here. Let’s go…babe.” I hesitate on the endearment but swallow back my ire to spit it out.

Reaching out, I snag Nate’s hand, rough and warm in mine, and start to walk away.

Pulling when he doesn’t move, too busy glaring at Sawyer like he’s trying to decide whether it’s worth escalating the situation.

For fuck’s sake. I tug harder, intent on getting out of here before we cause a scene.

When Nate doesn’t look away from the unseasoned ball sac, it becomes clear I’ll have to escalate this myself to get his attention and get out of here.

I grab the front of his shirt and turn him toward me, slamming my mouth against his and praying that the surprise will snap him out of this staring contest.

Without missing a beat, Nate twists my arm behind my back, pressing our bodies together. His other hand winds into the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me tight as his mouth ravages mine.

What I thought would be a momentary distraction turns into a full-on Moment in the space of a heartbeat.

Without my consent, my spine melts, curving my body against his while our tongues wrestle.

Years of wanting, remembering, and hating how good his kiss feels flood through me, drowning me in feelings I’m too worked up to battle.

If I thought I was going to stay in charge of this kiss, Nate proves that a lie as he continues to grasp my neck. His thumb digs into the muscle at the back of my skull hard enough to draw a moan from the depths of my lungs.

With a growl, he releases me and steps back, chest heaving while we stare at each other. The steady beat of The Proclaimers and someone singing about “500 miles” stomp on the shattered ruins of the unspoken rules between us.

Brown eyes search mine, full of questions I refuse to ask or answer. I’ve had a lot of bad ideas in my life—most of them to do with him—but this may have been my worst one yet. On pain of perjury, I would deny the spark that’s flaming to life inside me after that kiss.

Anger, lust, fear. They all swirl inside me, burning away whatever self-control I had left. A lifetime of lashing out, mostly because of the man standing in front of me, has my instincts taking over, coiling my muscles and readying to strike out.

Sawyer’s scoff is the trigger my body has been waiting for.

“Whatever. Hope your tiny dick doesn’t get lost in her stretched-out pussy.

Do you like being with a woman whose vag is probably half rotted off from all the men she’s had before you?

” He’s starting to draw attention from the strangers around us.

Neither of the men notices me until Sawyer’s doubled over from the elbow I jabbed into his stomach. “My mother says I don’t have to be polite to men who make me feel uncomfortable.” With that, I shove past both men and stalk toward Payton.

Pulling her away from her conversation, I lean close so I don’t have to yell. “I’m leaving. His friend is a fucking asshole.” I jerk my chin toward the exit. “Do you want to come with me?”

Payton bites her bottom lip, eyes flitting from me to Everett. He hasn’t noticed his friend wheezing a few feet away and tips his head in a question. “I just knocked the wind out of your friend. Hope you don’t mind.” I shrug, daring him to respond.

Payton is the one who reacts, throwing her arms up. “Jesus fuck. Are you serious, Sydney? Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Start a fight. Piss people off. Take your pick.” Payton rolls her eyes, then pinches the bridge of her nose. “I just wanted to get laid, Syd.”

Like lighter fluid, Payton’s words fan the anger inside me even more.

Rejection washes over me, ice-cold water dousing my righteous anger.

Bristling at the unwelcome feeling, I snatch my leather jacket from the back of a chair.

“I’m closing my tab.” I shove my arms into the sleeves, feeling the pockets to check my shit is still there.

“Seriously, your friend is an asshole. You should get a new one,” I throw over my shoulder as I turn to leave.

Joke’s on me—that could apply to either of them.

When I finally get the bartender’s attention, he just shakes his head and points to the end of the bar.

Where goddamn fucking Nate is holding my card up, raising an eyebrow at me like I’m nineteen and he just caught me making out with a boy in the car. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him make that face.

Stomping over, I snatch my card out of his hand and shove it in my pocket without a word. I don’t have to look to know he’s following me out of the bar.

“How did you know I was here?” is the first question I fire the second we’re outside. A cold, wet breeze snaps past us as I move down the block, away from the music spilling out of the bar, so I can wait for my rideshare.

“You’re welcome.”

The man is so infuriating I want to explode. “Oh, come off it. I’m not thanking you. I had it under control, and you only made it worse with your goddamn overbearing act.”

He closes the distance between us in a few steps, grabbing my arm and forcing me to face him. “It’s not overbearing when you keep putting yourself in harm’s way. What were you thinking, antagonizing him like that? He could have seriously hurt you.”

When I scoff, Nate bristles. His chest heaves with a deep breath before he shoves his hands in his pockets, the light in his eyes dimming. “I’m just saving myself from having to tell Kel I let you get hurt.”

If this motherfucking Neanderthal thinks he’s getting away with following me to my favorite bar, acting like a possessive frat boy and embarrassing me, and then brushing it off like he’s doing my brother a favor, he’s got another think coming.

I jab my finger in his chest and lean close so I can hiss in his face.

“Listen to me and listen carefully. Just because we have history and I occasionally let you get me off, don’t for one second think you have any claim on me.

And just because I loved you once, doesn’t mean I feel anything for you now except loathing.

A truce for Maggie and Kel’s sake doesn’t give you the right to interfere in my life. ”

It doesn’t matter that this stupid fucking idiot has owned my heart since I was sixteen. That he was my first everything. That the reason I’m a shit show is because when I offered him all of me, he left me behind without a word of explanation.

I hate him.

And that kiss blew a hole in every wall I’d built between us, letting in a deluge of desire to feel the rightness and safety of his arms just one more time.

When his lips slam into mine, the dam breaks inside me, and I’m swept away in the flood.