Page 49 of Hero Mine

What was Joy supposed to do, march over there and announce: He’s mine. Back off. He spent last night sleeping with me in my playhouse because I’m too neurotic to make it up the stairs to his place like a normal person would.

Yeppers. That would be impressive.

Joy forced herself to turn away, delivering waters to her waiting table with mechanical precision. She had zero claim on Bear. They hadn’t defined anything. A few kisses, one night snuggled together in the most uncomfortable conditions possible. That was hardly a relationship.

But God, the thought of that woman’s hands on him made something possessive and dangerous curl in Joy’s chest.

“Careful with those glasses, tiger.” Hudson’s amused voice cut through her thoughts. “We’re running low on clean ones.”

Joy blinked, realizing she’d slammed her serving tray onto the counter with more force than necessary. Several patrons glanced over.

“Glass was slipping,” she muttered.

Hudson smirked, crossing his arms as he followed her gaze toward the bar. “Right. So, it has nothing to do with Nurse Flirty-Pants over there putting her hands all over Bear?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Joy snatched a clean rag and began aggressively wiping the already spotless counter.

“Uh-huh.” Hudson chuckled. “You’re about as subtle as a hurricane, Davis.”

“Don’t you have drinks to pour?” She glared at him, which only deepened his infuriating grin.

“Nothing I enjoy more than watching you try to pretend you’re not jealous.”

“I am not j—” She stopped herself, exhaling sharply. “Bear can talk to whoever he wants. I don’t care.”

“Sure you don’t.” Hudson’s expression softened marginally. “Which is why you’ve been cleaning that same square foot of counter for the last five minutes while shooting death glares at the blonde.”

Joy dropped the rag, forcing herself to turn away. She had tables to serve, work to do, distractions to embrace. She would not obsess over the laughing blonde at the bar. Would not care about the way Cassie kept finding excuses to touch Bear’s arm.

She wouldn’t.

For the next fifteen minutes, Joy threw herself into the dinner rush—refilling drinks, delivering food, clearing tables with manic efficiency. She was managing just fine until she heard Cassie’s laughter again, louder, more intimate.

Despite her best intentions, Joy glanced over.

Cassie had shifted closer, thigh-to-thigh with Bear now. Her hand rested on his forearm as she laughed at something he’d said, flipping her hair over her shoulder in textbook flirtation.

Joy’s stomach burned.

“Excuse me, miss?”

She turned, finding herself face-to-face with a familiar customer—the hiker who’d been coming in all week. Hair just slightly too long, like a surfer. Outdoorsy clothes too new to have seen any real trails. Eyes that watched her a beat too long. What was his name again?

“Daniel, right?” Joy forced a smile, grateful for the distraction.

“That’s right.” He looked pleased she remembered. “And you’re Joy? You work here every night?”

She nodded, reaching over to wipe his table, realizing belatedly that he was still eating. “Sorry! God, I’m distracted tonight.”

“No problem.” He chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. “I can see why you like working here. Good vibe. Friendly people.” He had a practiced ease about him, smoothness that didn’t quite ring authentic. “Small towns like this, everyone must know one another.”

“Pretty much.” She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but anything was better than watching Cassie’s hand drift higher on Bear’s arm.

“You from here?”

“Born and raised.”

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “I’m from Boston. Can’t imagine growing up somewhere this small. Was it a blessing or a curse?”