Page 11 of When He Fights (Protector & Defender #3)

Chapter Five

She hadn’t intended to be in a beach-side bar with Kane as midnight trickled ever closer. The band played from a stage nearby, while couples swayed—some barefoot—in the sand. Laughter flowed in the air, the drinks kept pouring, and stars glittered overhead.

Ana and Kane were at a tall table on the edge of the patio. The blare of the music almost drowned out the pounding waves. Almost. When she strained, Ana could hear the water as it crashed into the shore.

“You could try to look happier,” Kane advised her.

She could. Or she could just keep right on doing what she was doing.

And what she was doing? Nursing a cute, little blue drink with a pink umbrella perched in it.

“We’re not on a date,” she told him, very deliberately, as her gaze darted toward the band and then to the couples swaying.

“We are two platonic friends who are having a drink and unwinding after a long day.” Her fingers fluttered in the air.

A nervous habit she’d picked up. Strumming strings that weren’t there.

She caught the act and tried to still her phantom playing.

Had Kane noticed? Hopefully not. “We’re just friends,” she repeated as she tried to sound confident and in control.

Though, actually, what they really were—they were two individuals who’d had to get the hell out of the house because Grayson had brought in a crew who were supposed to be going hard on a fast and intense security installation.

She’d already had security at the house, but Grayson had wanted to step up the game.

Extremely step it up. And his crew had needed work space, so…

After Grayson’s briefing session with her had ended, she’d changed clothes.

Ana now wore jeans, a loose top that dipped a little off her left shoulder, and comfy sandals.

She and Kane had taken a short walk down the beach.

They’d gone to the bar so she could be seen in public.

Part of Grayson and Kane’s master strategy to lay the groundwork that her life was totally normal and that she was simply visiting with an old friend.

“You care about him?” A growl.

Her gaze whipped to Kane, and surprise, surprise, that intense stare of his was on her.

A candle flickered in the middle of the table, and the light seemed to match the gold buried in his hazel eyes.

“About who?” Ana asked, blankly. You? Yes, yes, I cared.

Was convinced that I was in love with you two years ago.

“The bozo who asked you to go see the concert.”

“Bozo?” Now she did smile. “What kind of insult is that?”

“Fine. The lucky fucking bastard you’ve been seeing…”

Her smile wiped away. He’d called Turner a bastard, but adding the “lucky fucking” part didn’t exactly seem insulting. It seemed envious.

“Do you care about him?” Kane wanted to know.

To buy herself time to respond, she reached for her drink.

The glass felt cool beneath her fingertips, and she slid the umbrella out of the way so that she could get a better sip of the sweet brew.

It slid through her, refreshing but with a kick at the same time, and her eyes darted to the crowded dance floor as she…

Well, speak of the devil.

She put the glass down. So hard that it clinked against the table.

“Ana? Do you care about him?” Low and intense. “Because if you do, I…fuck, I won’t get in the way, I won’t?—”

“He’s a bastard.” Flat. “I thought he was nice, but I believe I was mistaken. There was zero chemistry between us. I was planning to break things off before you swept back into my life.”

“Uh, say again?”

“And he’s standing about ten feet away with his tongue shoved pretty far down the throat of his current dance partner, so I’m just going to assume that he has already moved on.

He clearly had a backup date ready tonight, and this development certainly makes things easier.

” Did it, though? Because, despite her bright words, things felt very awkward. And embarrassing.

And a bit hurtful.

Kane slowly turned his head. Stared at the dance floor.

“He’s wearing the blue shirt,” she supplied. Turner also still had his tongue shoved down the throat of the woman with him. Tongue in her throat. Hands on her ass.

“You were fucking him ?” Kane’s voice had reached a dangerous, intense degree. It was also a wee bit too loud. She thought about flying across the table and putting her hand over his mouth to shush him.

“That weak-looking asswipe? You were fucking him ?”

Definitely too loud. Heads turned their way. She did have to half-lunge over the table and put her hand over his mouth.

He frowned at her.

“I did not fuck him.” A whisper. “Jeez, let’s not attract too much attention, all right? I did not fuck him. I kissed him, like, once, maybe twice, and there was zero chemistry.” Now the truth just tumbled all out because…

Seriously? It just tumbled out. Screw the because part.

Her feelings were all over the place. “I wasn’t even gonna see him again,” Ana grumbled, and she felt her cheeks heat.

“Then you stormed back into my life, and I didn’t exactly want you to know that I’d just been living in the no-sex zone.

So, yeah, there’s that.” Her hand was still over his mouth.

She was still practically crawling over the table top.

“Not like I want you to mistakenly think that I’ve been hung up on you for all this time. ”

Or to think that she still longed for him.

Dreamed about him.

Wondered where he was. If he was happy. If he was?—

His tongue snaked out and licked against her palm. Sensual electricity flooded through her. “Kane…?”

His gaze smoldered.

She should pull her hand back. Yep, one hundred percent, and…

He licked her again.

She shivered. She also did start to pull her hand back because she knew when a situation was getting out of control and this one most certainly was. Time for a quick retreat.

“Ana!” Surprise. Shock.

And…

Things had just gone from bad to worse.

With her hand still just an inch or so from Kane’s lips, her head whipped to the right.

Turner Mitchell gaped at her. There was no sign of the woman he’d been holding so tightly just moments before.

“Ana?” Turner stalked closer, and the closer he came, the angrier he looked. His light brown hair had been shoved back from his forehead. “Ana, I thought you were visiting company tonight.”

“She is, ” Kane replied before Ana could actually get words out of her mouth.

She did manage to fully snatch her hand back. Finally. So, win.

Kane rose to his feet and moved to stand between Ana and the forward stalking Turner. “I’m the company she’s visiting.” He towered over Turner by at least four inches. “Speaking of company, where did yours just go?”

Turner side-stepped so he could lock eyes on Ana again.

She used that opportunity to hop out of her chair because an exit felt like a good idea. “We should go,” she told Kane. She grabbed for his hand.

He stiffened. Looked down at her hand, then immediately swallowed her fingers in his bear-like grip. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Right. Of course, he’d use an endearment right then. Why not?

“ Sweetheart?” Turner sounded as if he’d just choked on the term.

Ana would have felt guilty, truly, she would have, because he had seemed like a decent guy but… “Turner, I know you’re here on a date. I saw you two, um, dancing.”

“I’m not on a date!” Turner denied instantly. “You didn’t see anything!”

Really?

Kane laughed. Only it was not an amused sound. More mocking. Way more mean, too. “You had your tongue in the redhead’s mouth and your hand on her ass. If that wasn’t a date, then it sure was an intense hello session.”

Turner yanked a hand through his hair. “I can’t screw this up with you, Ana!” His hand fell to his side, only to immediately rise as he pointed at Ana. “You have to let me explain.”

“She doesn’t have to do anything,” Kane snapped back. “She owes you nothing.”

Turner’s handsome face—he was handsome, in a pretty boy way—flushed. “Look, you steroid-eating bastard?—”

“Ouch,” Kane murmured. “Someone is getting awful personal. And not nice at all. ” His head turned toward Ana. “Bad choice,” he told her.

She glowered up at him. Had she not said she was going to end things with Turner? And he’d been charming…before.

Before this night.

Before I saw his true colors.

Wasn’t that one of the things that had held her back for the last two years? She’d been so wrong before about a lover and, too late, the truth had been revealed.

Bad choice.

Back when she’d met Logan, Ana might have been slightly drawn to bad boys. But she’d more than gotten her fill of them, thanks.

“Not really into steroids,” Kane continued as he rolled back his shoulders. “Just into putting in the work. No pain, no gain, am I right?”

Turner fired him a look of disgust. A look he then turned on Ana. “You were supposed to be with a friend tonight! You blew me off.”

“I am her friend.” Kane whistled and kept right on holding her hand in that bear-like grip of his. “Platonic friend, huh, Ana? My name’s Kane.”

She’d deal with him in a moment. First, Ana stepped toward Turner. “We are not in some deep, committed relationship.”

“No, you are not,” Kane stated decisively from behind her. “Don’t see a ring on her finger.”

She pulled her fingers—all ringless—from his grasp.

“We went out a few times,” Ana continued in a polite but firm voice. “It was not serious. The connection was not there.”

“It is there,” Turner argued. Not polite. More snarling.

“In what world?” Her face scrunched. “And, please, don’t pull some big, messy scene with me.

You found a backup date.” The concert must have already ended, and they’d come to the bar.

Ana made a vague motion with her now free hand toward the dance floor.

“You two seem to have great chemistry, and I wish you well.” She did.

There. Done. End of drama. “Have a good night, Turner.” She turned to leave.