Leanne Banks - Footloose

When she tried to move away, the two men closed in even tighter. A surprising wave of protectiveness surged through Jack, and he wove through the crowded bar toward her.

“Hey, babe,” he said, “I was afraid I’d lost you. We’d better hit the road soon.”

One of the guys looked at him and shook his head. “You snooze, you lose. We’ve got dibs on this one,” he said in a slurred voice.

The other guy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Actually, I’m with him,” Amelia said and tried to move toward Jack.

The first guy blocked her again. “But, honey, we were just getting started. Bo and I were telling you what a good time we could show you.”

“She’s not interested, Curly and Bo, so leave her alone.”

The bald guy glared at him. “Butt out. If she’d wanted to be with you, then why was she alone?”

Growing impatient with the two, Jack cracked his knuckles behind his back. He’d knocked more than one drunk on his ass and he was pretty sure he could take these two, but he’d learned it was usually better to avoid fights if possible. Almost always less expensive.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t drinking alcohol, are you? You know what the doctor said about that,” he said to Amelia and watched her face turn blank.

The two men looked at him in confusion.

“I know you’re not showing yet, but you will be in a month or two, and you shouldn’t drink alcohol when you’re pregnant,” he continued, silently willing her to play along.

“Pregnant?” Curly echoed, looking slightly ill.

Bo stared at Amelia. “You don’t look pregnant.”

Meeting Jack’s gaze, Amelia put her hand over her stomach. “Twins,” she said. “Aren’t we lucky?”

The bald guy swore under his breath. “Twins,” he said in disgust. “You should wear a warning sign or something. C’mon, Bo.”

The moment the men were swallowed up by the crowd, Jack snagged her wrist and tugged her toward the door. “I think we’d better go before I have to mess up my hands.”

“Pregnant,” she said with a small smile. “My mother would be horrified.”

“Good thing she’s not here,” he said. “How did you get hooked up with those two?”

She shook her head. “All I did was walk out of the ladies’ room and they ambushed me.”

He sighed, stopping in the middle of the street. “It’s the way you look.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sweet, gullible, too polite to say no,” he clarified.

“I said ‘no, I need to go’ repeatedly.”

He shrugged, looking at her pink cheeks, blue eyes and angel blond hair. “You’re gonna have to learn how to put some stink in it or no one will believe you.”

“I shouldn’t have to take up kickboxing in order to make my point,” she said.

“No, but the pregnant scheme may not work all the time. And some guys are just too stupid to understand that a polite no is still a no. Pains me to say this, Magnolia, but one of the things you need to put on your list is learning how to be a little nasty when the occasion calls for it.”

She lifted her nose in distaste. “I realize I’m not as experienced as you are, but politeness has served me very well.”

“Like tonight?” he said.

She frowned at him. “This was an exception.”

“Life’s not a G-rated Disney movie. If anyone should know that, you should. Look at what happened with your Mr. Happily-Never-After. If you’re gonna step out of your little cocoon, you’re going to meet some people you like and some you don’t. It’ll go easier on you if you’re prepared to handle the rough ones.”

Jack stared at her for a long moment, feeling that unwelcome sense of protectiveness swell inside him again. He realized he’d just delivered a lecture. Swearing, he shook his head. “Hey, I’m not your father. Do what you want.” He gave a short laugh. “Maybe I should have left you alone with Curly and Bo.”

“No,” she said and looked away. “I think I could have gotten out of that situation, but it was getting uncomfortable. I appreciate you—helping me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “So who’s gonna help you when I make you uncomfortable?”

She gave a soft smile. “Oh, Jack. You’ve given yourself away. You’re a gentleman.”

He shook his head. “No one has ever accused me of that before, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

She just continued to smile, which irritated the hell out of him. “Come on,” he muttered. “You want to go to another bar?”

She shook her head. “Can we go in a few shops? I realize ‘shop’ is a four-letter word for most men—”

“I can handle it,” he said. “If I get lucky, I can watch you get a tattoo in a special place.”

“Not tonight,” she retorted and wandered into a tacky beach shop filled with T-shirts plastered with suggestions for sexual experimentation.

Laughing at her rounded eyes and red cheeks after she’d read a few, Jack followed her as she hot-footed it out of the shop. “Didn’t see anything you like?”

“No, thank you,” she said, carefully studying the window display of the next shop before peeking inside the door.

“It’s safe,” he said, unable to keep a hint of mockery from his voice.

Rolling her eyes at him, she walked inside and looked at the jewelry. Jack had found the previous store much more amusing, so after five minutes, he excused himself and went to the bar across the street where he could catch more of the ballgame. After half an inning, he strolled back to the shop, amazed to find her still studying the jewelry.

“You’re still here? You could have gotten a dozen piercings by now,” he said.

She bit her lip. “I’m just looking. It’s the first time I’ve shopped for jewelry without considering what Will would think.”

Her revelation made a knot form in his gut. Why? He couldn’t say. “What do you like?”

“I’ve always wanted an anklet, but I’m not sure I would wear it.”

He shrugged. “It’s not the Hope Diamond. Get it, try it. If you don’t like it, it’s no big deal.”

“I don’t know.”

Her hesitation tugged at something inside him. “Which are your top three favorites?”

“Um, that one,” she said, pointing to a sterling silver chain with tiny beads. “The one with the clam shells and the one with the daisies.”

“Okay,” he said and nodded toward the store clerk. “I’d like some anklets.”

“What?” Amelia stared at him. “You can’t get these for me.”

“Yes, I can. It’s not as if it they’ll break the bank,” he said.

“But—but—”

“Chill out, Magnolia. It’s not an engagement ring. This is faster, that’s all. At the rate it’s taking you to decide, we won’t get out of here until sundown tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll just take the one with daisies,” she said to the clerk.

“We’ll take all three,” Jack corrected and handed the clerk several bills. “You sure you don’t want to get that tattoo tonight? I can supervise.”

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” she said. “And I’m not comfortable with you buying these. It’s not appropriate for a woman to accept jewelry from a man she hardly knows.”

It took him a few seconds, but then he got the reason for her discomfort. She was afraid he was bartering anklets for sex with her. “Don’t you think a night of unbridled sex with you is worth more than forty-five bucks?” he asked in a low voice.

She sucked in a quick, shocked breath.

“I’m counting on it,” he said.

“I never said I was having sex with you,” she whispered.

Looking into her blue eyes and taking in the sight of her parted candy-apple lips, he made a decision. He was going to have Magnolia. Sometime, somehow and every way he could imagine. “But you will,” he said, because in this circumstance he considered it fair to warn her of his intentions.