My hand jerked, and the dart flew erratically, barely hitting the edge of the board. I turned toward the voice. A broad man with a thick neck and a goatee swayed in front of me. Chestnut-brown hair almost came down to his shoulders, and his eyes were a foggy blue.
“Umm, yes, I am.”
“You the boy sleeping with Gray?”
I blinked rapidly. What was it with the personal questions? “Is there something I can help you with?”
He grabbed his junk obscenely and grinned. “Heard you were a loose one, giving it to both father and his son. So how about you spread your legs for one more?”
The blood drained from my face as my discomfort morphed into disbelief. Even though they gossiped, the townspeople I’d met so far had always been polite and charming. But the cowboy only grinned wider, his eyes twinkling.
“I’m not interested.” My gaze flew over his shoulder to Gray, who was striding toward us, his face set in a hard line, the cue stick in hand.
“I think you are.” The stranger grabbed my hand and forced it toward his crotch. “They say you’re an easy lay. Don’t make it—”
“What the fuck do you think you are doing, Byron?” Gray shoved the man back, forcing him to release me, then stepped between us with his back to me, shielding me.
“Come on, Gray. Don’t be a cockblocker. Didn’t you get your fair share already? Can’t the rest of us have a shot?”
“That’s my partner you’re talking about, so watch your mouth!”
“Gray,” I whispered. We were attracting attention. I’d never seen him so angry, and the way he was squeezing the cue stick, veins bulging from his clenched fist, made me nervous.
“Partner? You sure about that, Gray? Word on the street is he’s a bit of a slut, but you would know that better than the rest of us, wouldn’t you? Hell, anyone who sleeps with father and son—”
Gray jammed the cue stick against Byron’s throat. “Say one more thing about Ozzie and see what happens.”
“Gray!” Lawson gripped the cue stick. “Don’t get into trouble because of him. You know the type of person Byron is. He isn’t worth it.”
Byron grabbed his throat. “Fuck you,” he croaked, shooting daggers at Lawson. “Fuck all of you.”
He stepped back, his gaze darting around the room as if looking for support, but no one made a move.
“Get the hell out of here, Byron!” the bartender shouted. “If Gray shoves that stick down your throat, I’ll look the other way.”
“Oh fuck off, I didn’t say anything y’all weren’t thinking.” Byron stumbled out of the bar, slamming the door shut behind him. I wanted to throw myself into Gray’s arms, but we were in public. Carter always hated it when I showed my affection in public.
“Are you okay?” Gray turned to me, dropping the cue stick. He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
I forced a smile to my lips. “I’m fine. Just a bit shocked.”
“Ah, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” Then he—Gray—reached for me and pulled me into his body for the hug I’d wanted but had been too scared to ask for. His embrace was warm, familiar, and safe. I instantly burrowed into him, my eyes prickling.
“Fuck, Gray, I’m sorry about this.” Someone approached us, but I was too snug against Gray to look. The voice sounded soft and kind with a strain of anger. “I’ll ban his ass from the pub. No one should have to go through that kind of harassment.” “Thanks, Earl. It’s best I take Ozzie home.”
“We were having such a good time. I’m going to murder Byron!”
Opie.
He was so sweet. And that was the reason I couldn’t leave. I inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, then pulled away from Gray, shaking my head. “No, we don’t have to go anywhere. We should stay.”
Gray cupped my neck. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am. It was unexpected, but I’m not ready to go back to the ranch yet. Maybe you can teach me how to play pool?”
Gray stared at me for a moment longer, then nodded. He placed a kiss on my forehead. “Okay.”
Earl clapped his hands. “All right! A round of beer for everyone. On the house.”
