Carter’s gaze did a slow perusal of my body, seeming to take in every inch of me. Fuck, I’d spent too much time tossing off in the shower imagining the same thing but with us both naked. When his eyes flicked back to mine, he shook his head. “You look good enough to me.”
My brows sprung high. “Okay.” I shrugged, attempting to act unaffected. It was funny, despite our differences in work, his education, and upbringing, in comparison to my own, not once did I ever overthink the differences between us, or at least not too hard. Never did he ever make me feel as though we were on a different footing. And fuck, was it hard not to crush on him even harder because of it. I’d had a failed relationship in the past with a lawyer. It turned out he was an arrogant prick who took pleasure in telling his friends he was slumming it. It was no wonder I dumped his ass in record time once I’d overheard him; he’d been lucky I hadn’t given him a black eye too.
But Carter was different, and my resolve to remain professional was a struggle. Our boundaries blurred, and I had to admit, I did wonder why I bothered putting the no-fraternizing rule in effect in the first place. I must have been on crack for sure. Would dating while working for him really screw it all up?
“So, where to?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Coleman’s is a good spot.” It was definitely a pub rather than a bar you’d find in the city. While it wasn’t quite a sawdust floor, it was run-down and ancient, as were many of its locals. I’d been there several times, and it had fast become my favorite of the slim pickings in town. People were generally friendly; it was also where a few other tradesmen I’d met on other jobs hung out, plus it had a couple of pool tables and a dartboard.
“Sounds good.” He grinned. The unhappiness from earlier still darkened his eyes, but the grin was definitely genuine. The small laughter lines around his eyes told me as much.
I cleared my throat, wondering how I’d reached the point of analyzing smiles and laughter lines. “I’ll drive.”
It was just ten minutes to the pub, which we rode in companionable silence. Carter had, I assumed, had a fucker of a day, and while I’d probably prod him later about what had gone on, I hoped he’d want to open up to me. Only time would tell.
The bar had a good crowd, not surprising for a Friday night. I indicated for Carter to grab a pool table while it was free, and I made my way to get our drinks. Rather than a whiskey, he asked for a gin and tonic. I’d smiled at his request and lifted my brows. It was a drink my mom had always called mother’s ruin, simply because drinking too much led to emotional, drunken tears by the end of a session, so I’d smirked my way to order his drink, and got myself a bottle of Bud.
Carter had already racked up when I returned with our drinks. I placed them on a small table to the side and took a swig of beer.
“Your break,” Carter offered, handing me a cue.
“Sounds good.” I threw him a wink as I took the cue and proceeded to break. It soon became clear that Carter was awful at the game, and he progressively became worse the more he drank. I also discovered he couldn’t handle his gin.
But fuck, he was so funny and had genuine laughter bursting from my gut more than once. He was recounting a story from work involving a hamster, a snake, and a cat when his gaze was drawn to the opening door and the three men walking in. His laughter and story died off, his face paling.
Concern filled me when I looked at the men standing at the bar. I hadn’t seen them around the place before, nor around town. They were in conversation while waiting for their drinks and seemed unaware of the impact they had on Carter. When I looked back at Carter, I walked over to him. He’d been in the process of taking a shot when he’d faltered and was since standing still and looking at the table. “Hey, where’d you go?”
He jumped at my voice, his unfocused gaze landing on mine. His wide eyes softened, his body relaxing a little when he released a breath. “Err, sorry. I think that last drink went to my head.” His voice seemed strained, and he flicked his gaze over my shoulder, and no doubt toward the bar. I didn’t fail to miss his clenched jaw. “Do you mind if we rain check this game and get out of here?” Once his eyes were back on mine, worry gnawed at my gut. I had no idea what was going on, but every nerve in my body was on edge, ready to step in and make sure Carter was okay.
I narrowed my eyes, not liking the thought that his reaction was one of fear. His piercing eyes begged me not to make a big deal of it though. They were focused, intent on mine, but slightly downcast. Everything in his body screamed he was desperate to leave, while mine roared that I wanted to head to the bar and those three guys to figure out what the fuck was going on.
Instead, I swallowed my need to bang heads and chose to do what he needed. “Sure thing. Let’s get out of here.”
Placing the cues down, Carter grabbed his jacket, and we made our way to the main doors. I positioned him to my right, closest to the wall and away from the bar, allowing him to be half a step ahead of me. As we angled to the exit, the three guys headed toward us, drink in hand and seeming set on the pool table. Carter visibly tensed. I refocused my gaze on the men, all wearing slacks and button-up shirts, all looking ridiculously preppy.
One of the guys, who looked especially smooth, flared his nostrils when his eyes landed on Carter. A small sneer appeared on his face as though in distaste. Just as we passed, his not so quiet voice said, “Thank fuck the fags are leaving.” I heard two snorts, one from the smooth fucker himself, and the other I assumed from one of his friends.
My reaction was immediate.
I spun on my heel, my face warming in anger, fist twitching and a curl of heat unfurling in my gut. “What the fuck?” My muscles clenched, wanting to pound into the hotshot’s face. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard a pathetic slur, and admittedly, in the past I hadn’t necessarily lashed out in anger, but with Carter’s anxiety, I was pretty sure caused by these guys, rational thought fled.
The fucker faced me. His lip curled again when his gaze flicked at Carter and then me. I stepped forward, relishing the waver of uncertainty that appeared on his face. The guy was all bravado. I knew with one fist to the face, he’d be on the ground, and I would take great pleasure in proving it.
“I said, what the fuck? You have something you want to say?”
His two friends turned in my direction, neither looking ready to square up to a fight or have their buddy’s back. Anger pounded off me. I was sure each of the fuckers before me could feel it.
The preppy gulped, his eyes traveling to the right just as Carter’s warm palm settled on my arm.
“Come on, Tanner. Let’s just go.” His voice was quiet, but I heard the tremor, felt it too.
My gaze remained on the guy before me, and I didn’t miss the sneer he directed at Carter. I willed him to speak, to give me a reason to draw blood. Instead, he stayed silent.
“Thought as much.” My voice was low, hard and demanding, immediately drawing his attention back to me. Carter released my arm and stepped slightly to the side. I turned to look at him. He was biting on his bottom lip, one I was desperate to draw into my mouth, and his cheeks carried a sexy blush. I unclenched my fist, reached out and took Carter’s hand in mine.
On contact, he inhaled deeply, shock registering on his face, his cheeks warming even more. I gave his hand a light squeeze. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.” I didn’t throw a warning glance over my shoulder as I left. That stupid fuck had got the message. Plus, with Carter’s hand in mine, his skin heating my own, I didn’t want to focus on anything or anyone but him. I just needed to get out of the bar before I shoved Carter against the wall in public to make it clear that the rules had changed.
Carter was going to be mine. Fuck the consequences.
