There was something going on between the two of them, and whatever it was held a bit of a promise, at least for the here and now.
If Shane hadn’t already agreed, albeit reluctantly, that he’d make a showing at little Billy’s birthday party, he might flash her a smile and come up with some clever way to strike up a conversation—something that didn’t sound like a worn-out pickup line.
As it was, he’d better leave well enough alone. He was more cowboy than cop these days, and she didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who would find either very appealing.
Still, he continued to glance across the room for what he swore would be the very last time.
She wore a lonely expression on that pretty, heart-shaped face. Her frown and the crease in her brow suggested she carried a few burdens herself.
Was she running from her own demons, too?
Or was she just thinking about another lonely Friday night?
Before he could even attempt his best guess, a guy seated near her table got to his feet, swaying a bit before starting toward her.
Shane’s protective nature sparked, and he sat upright in his seat, listening as the guy spoke loud enough for the whole room to hear.
“Hey, come on, honey. Don’t you want some company?”
The blonde stiffened and said something to the guy. Shane couldn’t hear her words, but he suspected they’d been something short and to the point.
On the other hand, her body language spoke volumes, and only an idiot—or a drunk—would ignore it.
Sure enough, the snockered fool pulled out the chair next to hers and took a seat, clearly ignoring her verbal response, as well as all the outward signs of her disinterest.
Shane expected her to put the jerk in his place, but she looked to the right and left, as if searching for the waiter. What she needed was a bouncer, although Shane doubted a place like El Jardin had to use the services of one very often.
Did he dare try to come to her rescue?
Oh, what the hell.
He got to his feet, grabbed his hat—leaving his beer behind—and sauntered to the pretty blonde’s table, determined not to make a scene.
“Hi, honey,” he said. “I’m sorry I was late. Did you have to wait long?”
“I…uh…” She searched his eyes as if trying to figure out what he was doing, where he was going.
He reached out his hand to her, and she studied it for a moment, not understanding what he was trying to do—and that was to avoid causing a scene that was sure to draw unnecessary attention to her. But she seemed to catch on, because she took his hand and allowed him to draw her to her feet.
“I didn’t think my meeting would take so long,” he said.
“I understand. I knew you’d come as soon as you could get away.”
Shane brushed a kiss on her cheek, then turned to the drunk. “Excuse me, but that’s my seat.”
“I…” The drunk furrowed his brow, then got to his feet. “Well, hell. She should’ve said something.”
Shane narrowed his eyes. “She did. But maybe you didn’t hear her.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t leave a woman like her waiting. It makes people think she’s free for the taking.”
Shane’s right hand itched to make a fist, but the guy wasn’t going to remember any of this tomorrow. And El Jardin wasn’t the kind of place that lent itself to barroom brawls.
“Speaking of free for the taking,” Shane said, “I’m going to give you some good advice.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s time to call it a day.”
As the waiter who’d been working this side of the bar approached, he asked the blonde, “Is there a problem here?”
She looked at Shane, who nodded at the drunk. “This gentleman is going to need a cab.”
Within seconds, the manager of the bar entered the picture, and the drunken businessman was escorted away.
“Thank you,” the blonde told Shane. “I wasn’t sure what to do about him without making a scene.”
“No problem.”
“They should have quit serving him a long time ago,” she added.
“You’re right. And your waiter is getting an earful from his boss as we speak.”
“What makes you say that?”
“By the look the manager shot at him when he realized how drunk that guy was.”
“I didn’t notice that.”
He shrugged. “I’m observant by nature.”
“Well, I’m glad you stepped in when you did.”
“Me, too.”
Now what? he wondered.
Well, he’d gone this far, so why not?
He glanced at the empty chair across from her. “Is that seat taken?”
It was a lame line, he supposed, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment.
“No, it’s not. Would you like to join me?”
Well, how about that? He’d made it to first base. Before pulling out the chair, he extended his hand in greeting. “My name is Shane Hollister.”
“Jillian Wilkes.” As their palms met and her fingers slipped around his, a warm thrill shimmied up his arm and sent his senses reeling.