“There you, are!” Her friend wore a look of relief. “I was about to send the calvary after you.”
“Sorry. I ran into… a client.” She purposely didn’t tell her it was Clayton. “We got to talking, and then Brody was there, and then the three of us talked, and now we’re here.”
And your hand is still curled around his arm.
As if his skin were on fire, Ro released her grip and dropped her arm back to her side. Holy hell, she needed a drink. Wait. Shehada drink.
Don’t mind if I do.
Lifting the straw to her lips, she drew in a long, refreshing pull and swallowed. Then she did it again. And then she heard Brody’s deep, angry bark.
“What the hell was that?”
Ro met his steaming stare with an innocent-sounding, “What?”
Instead of referencing Clayton, as she’d expected, Megan’s brother looked her square in the eyes and said, “You.”
Me?
“What about me?”
“That prick put his hands on you, and instead of going all Ro on his ass, you were practically falling all over yourself to make introductions and small talk.
“Who had their hands on you?” Concern filled Meg’s pretty eyes.
But Ro and Brody were too busy arguing to pay her any mind.
“One, I wasn’t ‘falling all over’ anyone,” she shot back. “Two, you were the one who butted into a private conversation, and three, that ‘prick’ is a client. And not just any client, either.” Ro blew out a breath. “I know he’s an arrogant ass, but the guy has the power to shoot my company to the next level.”
Ten levels, really. If she was lucky.
Sure, if Brody doesn’t kill him first.
A low, nerve-twisting grunt was the aggravating man’s only response, destroying what was left of Ro’s patience with the male species. With her back teeth grinding together, she worked to control her rising temper as she stepped closer to her most recent source of frustration.
“You got a problem with me, King, just say it.”
“I don’t have a problem.” He shook his ruggedly sexy head with a shrug. “Just didn’t figure you for a kiss ass, that’s all.”
Ro blinked, physically recoiling at Brody’s comment. His words were like a sharp dagger slicing straight through the center of its target, and they…hurt.
Was that really what he thought about her? She met his cold stare again, the unapologetic look there as good an answer as any.
And Ro didn’t know which angered her more, the fact that Brody had said that to her, or that he’d been right. Either way, she couldn’t keep from stepping forward, placing herself smack dab in the middle of Brody’s personal space.
Somewhere in the back of her slightly spinning head, Ro knew the well-intended man didn’t deserve her wrath. Deep down, she understood his aggressive behavior toward Clayton stemmed from a place of friendship and protection. And that he’d obviously seen the unsettling interaction and was just trying to help.
But the bit of alcohol she’d had was apparently starting to seep into her veins, and when it came to biting her tongue, she’d pretty much reached this evening’s limit.
“I wasn’t kissing his ass,” she hissed the denial despite knowing the opposite was true. “I was trying to keep things civil and prevent you from jumping into the middle of it with that wholekill first, ask questions laterattitude of yours.”
Having said her piece, she turned away and put her glass on the table in front of where she’d previously been sitting. Her fingers curled around the top of the chair’s wooden back, but as she began pulling it back toward her, Brody’s rumbled voice reached her ears once more.
“The guy had his hands on you, Ro,” he repeated as if she hadn’t heard him the first time.
As ifshehadn’t been the one stopped by Clayton’s near-painful grip.
She opened her mouth—to reiterate the fact that she was fine, and she could fight her own battels—but Rocky chimed in at the same time with a fierce, “Someone was messing with you? Who? Did he hurt you?”