unaware of my presence.
Carter's thumb strokes along my shoulder and down my upper arm, the pressure soothing my nerves. As opposed to dragging me off like I expect, he fakes a cough making it evident that his intent is to draw everyone's attention. Six pairs of eyes swing our way while my rescuers remain affixed on them. My pulse races at the narrowed glances Finn and Frey share before Finn cracks his knuckles. His light eyes chance a peek at me, and he flashes a flirtatious smile before returning his attention to the backs of the men sitting in front of him.
Carter's hand covers mine on his thigh. "Sorry to interrupt y'all, but I need to steal my girl and close our tab."
I peer at him from over my shoulder. His girl? He presses a firm kiss to my cheek, and I glance at the table, at the menacing eyes. Do they narrow and darken, or is that my fear? I stare at the floor.
"Hey, you guys know Carter Cooper, right?" Owen's voice drips with hubris.
I'm too busy using Carter as a support beam to pay attention to their reactions, though, through their comments, I catch the phrase "she's with you?" asked.
Finn and Frey are introduced next and, all at once, the entirety of the situation hits, and I'm overwhelmed. "Let's close you out." I manage in a loud voice for everyone's ears before unwrapping Carter's arm from my neck and pulling him after me.
My feet stumble on the concrete floor as we wind our way through the tables, and Carter shifts close, his arm sliding around my waist while he changes our direction and steers me toward the entrance. "Hey, Ally, check her tables, would you? She needs some fresh air."
Ally's breathy "you got it" cuts through the haze smothering me as we exit Bleachers and step into the dense Texas evening. The air invades my lungs as I choke down a sob.
"C'mon." Carter ushers me along the sidewalk and around the corner of the building, walking toward where the kitchen resides and there are no windows for prying eyes. He draws me into the flower bed along the building and swings me around until I'm pressed into the restaurant's wooden slat siding. Two jacked up pick-ups and a flowering tree provide us a semblance of privacy. "You okay?" he asks, releasing my hand.
I sag against the building, my eyes on the mulch-covered ground. I'm crushing a fern beneath my shoe, and I inch my foot to the right. "Jess?" His tone is hesitant, and the green sprig blurs. "You're trembling."
Like a robot, I raise my hands chest level and hold them out between us, commanding them to stop shaking. "He was handsy." My explanation is muffled like I'm in a bubble. "There’s nothing new about touchy customers. But his eyes…"
Powerful fingers twist around mine, drawing my quaking hands against the heat radiating from his hard chest. I stare at the button on his shirt, my fingernail flicking it. "He gripped my hip. His thumb grazed … I-i-t grazed lower while his friend touched my ass." My knee buckles and Carter dips, supporting my weight for the instant it takes to regain my balance. For the second time since we stepped out, a gasping sob escapes my mouth. My shock is like manacles forcing my indignation to be silenced, but the more I replay the scene, the harder my anger fights for a voice. That man, a stranger, grabbed me. My pulse quickens. His fingers brushed across my crotch. Heat licks at my chest. Like he had the right. My fingers fist into Carter's shirt. He threatened me. The bonds holding my fury break.
"He fucking touched me like I was his, and I did nothing." My brown eyes meet Carter's. The darkness of night obscures his face, but his body mirrors my rage. Wrath rolls off him in waves. "I said nothing, Carter."
Carter
The asshole fucking touched her. No, if I'm comprehending what she leaves out, he molested her. At her place of employment. With his loser buddies crowding her in, and with no regard for consequences because it's what they do. Sonny and his crew. A bunch of white-collar pricks under the assumption their shit smells like perfume because their working hands stay clean from eight to five. The pile of filth they accumulate after hours would have this town praying on their knees each Sunday.
"I did nothing," she repeats, the anger I sensed building within her is playing