Lori Foster - Hard Justice

Once again, she sat up front.

Like déjà vu, he got behind the wheel but didn’t pull away. “Will you need me tomorrow, too?”

She tipped her head. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope. But I’m thinking we save the fair till then.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know anything about it.”

“It’s a fair,” she said. “There will be vendors, things to buy, food to try.”

Justice figured it was past time they made some ground rules. “You need to understand, it’s my job to make you secure. I gotta know what’s happening a little beforehand, otherwise it’s impossible. And when it’s impossible, your dad gets pissed and I could end up canned again.”

Not giving in, Fallon asked, “What could happen at a fair?”

No idea, but he knew better than to take chances. “Anything, I guess.” He tugged at his ear. “See, what I do is figure out how to proceed in case anything does go wrong. Like, I need to know the quickest way out, the best route to take, the neighborhoods we’ll go through—”

“You’re taking this all too seriously.”

“Yeah, says the girl who got shit-faced, had to be carried in, got me fired—”

“Stop!” Barely suppressing a laugh, she pressed her palms to her reddened cheeks. “That’s not who I usually am.”

Justice noticed how cute she looked with a blush. “Too bad, because that girl was fun.”

She blinked at him. “Really?”

Too late to call back the words, Justice said, “I mean—”

“You don’t think I was...pathetic?” So much heat now colored her cheeks, she looked scalded.

Bracing a forearm on the steering wheel, Justice turned to face her. The vulnerability in her dark eyes nearly broke his heart. Softly, he asked, “Why would you think that?”

She looked away, hesitated, then changed the subject. “Maybe we could do the art museum then. There’s a special exhibit—”

He cut her off. “Same problem. I’d need to check it out first.”

Disappointed, she clutched her hands in her lap. “So then what are we going to do? I’m not anxious to visit another bar.”

That surprised him. “I thought you had fun.” But maybe her daddy had put the kibosh on drinking.

“I did,” she admitted. “But then I woke up this morning and remembered that no one had danced with me. Not that I expected guys to rush over or anything, but...not a single one?”

The smile tugged at his mouth. “You know why, right?”

Her shoulders sagged. “I assume—”

Justice took her hand. It was small in his, delicate. Hell, her dad was right—she was fragile.

Taboo, dude. Knock that shit off.

He retreated, but explained, “Guys tried, honey. More than a few. My job was to keep them away, so that’s what I did.”

Comprehension came slowly. “You’re serious?”

Justice nodded. “Any guy who looked too long, or tried to cozy up, got my best ‘back the ef off’ stare. You were busy dancing—” and turning me on in the process “—so I guess you didn’t notice.”

She dropped back in her seat. “You actually warned men away?”

“With a mean stare, yeah.” In his defense, Justice said, “They weren’t your usual refined aristocrats, you know.”

A slow simmering anger straightened her shoulders, tightened that soft mouth and narrowed her amazing eyes. “I didn’t want to dance with an aristocrat. That’s why I went to a local bar.”

She said it like she spoke to an idiot. Amused by the show of temper, Justice grinned. “Tell you what, if you have enough free time tonight, how about I take you to Rowdy’s? I’m already familiar with it and I’m betting the guys I know will be around. If you want to dance with them, no sweat.”

She looked tempted, and still riled. “I don’t want you coercing anyone to do you a favor. I’m not a charity case.”

“Far from it.” Hell, he’d probably still have to read the riot act to any man—friend or not—who got too close. “So what do you say?” To help convince her, he added, “You can try another beer, but this time just one.”

She stewed a minute more before finally nodding. “Well...all right. But, Justice, you have to trust me to do my own fending off, okay?”

Now that he had a destination, he started the car and pulled away. “That’s a no-go. It’s my job to—”

“You are only to protect me if things get out of hand!”

Yeah, she had a point. But with a woman like Fallon, that could happen in the blink of an eye.

* * *

THEY WEREN’T ON the road long when Justice cleared his throat. Over the next twenty minutes he did it several more times, repeatedly glancing her way, and Fallon assumed he was uneasy about her scolding.

Because he wore his mirrored sunglasses, she couldn’t see his eyes. Not that she needed to. The tension in his big body, in his broad shoulders and the set of his jaw, told her he was on edge.

She remained a little irked at his high-handed attitude, but clearly that mood wasn’t conducive to a nice evening so she decided to break the ice. With a slight huff, she faced him. “Something on your mind, Justice?”

A long exhale left his posture more relaxed. “Whew.” He flashed her a relieved grin. “That silent treatment was getting to me.”

Fallon hid her smile. For such a big, bulky guy, he’d really let one little disagreement bother him. “Then why don’t we chat?”

As if he’d been waiting for that invitation, Justice said, “Good idea. Who’s Marcus?”

Well, shoot. She’d walked right into that one. “Nobody important.” Not anymore.

“Nah, don’t give me that. He’s somebody, or at least he was. You cut ties on him?”

“Yes.” Or more like Marcus had cut ties—with his reaction.

He frowned. “Hung up on him still?”

Emphatic, she said, “Noooo.”

“No?” he clarified.

“Not even a little.” Marcus had bruised her pride, wounded her spirit and dashed her hopes, but she knew she’d never really loved him. “He was...convenient.” She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? Very mercenary. The thing is, he works for my dad and my parents liked him. He was familiar with the family.” And all her secrets. “It seemed easy to fall into a pattern with him.” Easy, and oh, so stupid.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Justice said, “I don’t like him.”

He sounded so sincere, she couldn’t help but point out the obvious. “You don’t even know him.”

“Sure I do. See, fighters learn how to size people up real quick. You get in the cage with a guy and you have to know if he’s quiet because he’s afraid, or because he’s that confident. Does he talk smack to counter insecurities, or because he knows he can back it up? I can read body language and Marcus is a putz.”

Fallon laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you, but he really isn’t. He’s successful and engaging and people love him.”

“Not me.” Justice squeezed the steering wheel. “Not you.”

Good point. “We’re the exceptions, then.”

“Nope. Your dad wasn’t too keen on him either, let me tell you.” Justice glanced in the rearview mirror, frowned, and then took an exit. “So what happened? What’d he do?”

She couldn’t believe his audacity. “That’s private, Justice.”

He chewed his upper lip, rolled one shoulder, and said with complete seriousness, “I have to know these things. I mean, what if he shows up and tries to start trouble?”

Fallon laughed. “He won’t. In all ways, Marcus is proper.”

“Asshole wasn’t all that proper today. Proper is letting a lady go when she asks.”

“Justice!” It took all her control not to laugh. He did have a way of saying things.

Jaw working, Justice grumbled, “I wanted to cream him.”