Foolish Expectations (2 page)

His tight jeans displayed well-muscled thighs and an outstanding ass—two things any woman appreciated on a hot-blooded cowboy. But that didn’t mean she had any intention of engaging in innocent flirting. Nothing involving this man would be considered innocent. Indecent, maybe. Probably.

Her gaze continued up his body until it landed on his smiling face.

Oops.
So much for deterring his unwanted attention.

She immediately shifted her eyes and glanced around the room, seeking out other women in the bar. Some spun circles in flouncy skirts and stomped their pink boots on the dance floor, while others sat at tables surrounded on all sides by eager men waiting to ambush them. A few were even being force-fed hard liquor to lower their inhibitions…and probably their standards.

That’s when she noticed the rude chick perched at the end of the bar. Like Bailey, she was sitting alone. The young woman tossed back a double shot of something resembling tequila, then held up her finger for another. Undoubtedly, the girl was nursing a broken heart and chasing away her sorrows with alcohol. Sad thing was, she’d most likely end up in the back of a horse trailer later, letting one of these young studs fuck her brains out just to boost her damaged ego.

Bailey’s gaze flickered back to her watcher.
Probably someone like him.

He rose an eyebrow as if he had read her dirty thoughts, and her heart thumped an extra beat. Her stomach twisted into a knot, so she stiffened her posture and turned away. She was trying her best to look disinterested, but somehow kept fumbling up. Hard to ignore someone who refused to ignore you back.

A minute later, the waitress returned and set a beer in front of Bailey, refusing to take the credit card she held out. Instead, the waitress motioned back to the bar. “The gentleman asked me to send his regards.”

The smug man tipped his bottle up, took a long pull, and then gave her a quick wink. It didn’t surprise Bailey nearly as much as it pissed her off. “Gentleman, my ass. Does that shit really work on the women in here?”

The waitress shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Well, I prefer to buy my own beer.” Bailey shoved her credit card into the waitress’s hand. “Tell Romeo I’m not interested, but the drunk, broken-hearted woman across the bar to his right would make for a decent consolation prize.”

The waitress laughed and bumped Bailey with her hip. “Oh, honey, you just made my night! Nash Sutherland has always been too handsome for his own good. You can bet your ass I’m going to relay that message with a smile on my face.”

Bailey gave her a terse nod. “Good.”

Instead of walking away, though, the waitress leaned closer to her. “Thing is, sweetie, that’s probably not going to deter him.”

“What, this Nash guy doesn’t believe in no meaning no?”

“Oh, nothing like that,” the waitress said, shaking her head. “He’s a good guy. It’s just…well, I don’t think he’s ever had a woman tell him no before.” Then she headed for the bar with the credit card in her hand and a sly grin on her face.

It was only then Bailey realized exactly what the waitress meant. When she approached him and told him the bad news, the gorgeous bastard looked more than a little stunned. He’d obviously expected Bailey to bat her eyelashes and invite him over with a crook of her finger. Because, clearly, that was the way it went for someone like him. Not many women—
if any
—turned him down.

As the waitress continued to speak to him, he glanced over to the depressed, glassy-eyed woman across the bar, then flicked his eyes back to Bailey. His jaw tightened and a coolness took over his face.

Bailey couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. She held up her beer in a casual “cheers” motion, encouraging him to pursue more lucrative ventures…or easier women. But he apparently didn’t get the message. If anything, her unintentional taunt had the opposite effect, as if she’d inadvertently issued him a challenge.

A firestorm flashed through his eyes. Definite insult. Mostly anger. Probably a little emasculation. He drained his beer, motioned to the bartender for two more, and grinned like a devil who’d just wagered on her soul.

Shit. Time to go.

Bailey stuffed her sore feet back into her heels, grabbed her purse, and started to stand, but in her hurry, she bumped the table and knocked her beer over. The bottle clanged against the wooden surface as the liquid poured out.
Damn it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The stupid cowboy had flustered her once again. She sat back down, turned the bottle upright, and used the only two bar napkins she had to soak up the mess. It wasn’t doing the job.

A few tables over, a young guy jumped up, grabbed a handful of napkins, and offered his assistance. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

“Thanks,” she said, sopping up the last of it. “I spilled a whole beer.”

“That’s all right. I already ordered you another,” he said just as the waitress appeared next to him with another round of drinks.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I was just leaving.”

He paid and tipped the waitress, then set the beer down in front of Bailey with a persistent clunk. “No need to rush off.” He grabbed a chair, turned it around, and sat on it backward next to her, blocking the only escape route she had. “We’ve barely gotten to know each other. At least drink the beer I bought before you go. You don’t want to waste another one, do ya?”

“Sorry. I appreciate it, I do. But I have to work in the morning,” she said, rising from her chair.

The man grabbed her hand and tugged her back into place. “Aw, come on. You can’t leave yet. I didn’t even get a chance to ask you your name.” His calloused hand landed firmly on her knee.

She tensed. “It’s…uh, Sheila, but I really should—”

“Pretty name for such a pretty lady.” His hand quickly worked its way up her bare thigh.

She tensed and pushed his hand off her, but before she could say anything, someone kicked the guy’s chair with enough force to jar his entire body. Both of them looked up to see the man named Nash standing beside the other man’s chair, holding a beer in each hand. “Might want to put your hands on someone else’s woman if you want to keep them.”

“Aw, damn you, Nash!” The guy rose from his chair and shook his head. “You got dibs on this one?”

Nash nodded. “I do.”

“Man, I’m gonna have to find a new hangout if I want a fighting chance at getting some decent puss—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.” A vein throbbed in Nash’s temple and his fingers tightened their grip on the bottles he held. “In fact, you better start looking now before I knock all the teeth out of that foul mouth of yours.”

The man threw his hands up in surrender. “Whoa! Okay, okay, I’m going,” the coward said, backing away slowly until he was in the clear. Then he went to find someone else to molest.
Thank Goodness.

This time, Nash didn’t wait for an invitation. He pulled the empty chair back around to the other side of the table, turned it around, and sat across from Bailey, sliding her a beer. “You okay, sweetheart?”

She crossed her arms and blew out a hard breath. “I don’t believe I sent up any smoke signals, Chief.”

He grinned slyly. “Don’t need to now, sweetheart. I marked you as my woman. He won’t bother you again, and he’ll spread the word to the rest of them.”

Stunned by that revelation, she looked around the bar and, sure enough, there were several men glancing over and pointing in her direction. “So you…placed a
claim
on me?”

“Just for tonight. But don’t worry, it was for a good cause. Richard’s a scum-bag with a reputation for getting grabby with the ladies.”

Of course the molester’s name is Richard. Figures.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I already had the overwhelming pleasure of that experience.”

“Well, Sheila,” he said with a wink. “You don’t have to worry about that idiot anymore. Not with me here.”

Christ, he thought her name was Sheila! She smiled at that. Oh well, no point in correcting him.
Shouldn’t believe everything you overhear, buddy.
“You mean, because he wouldn’t take no for an answer?”

“Yep. Exactly.”

Bailey leaned toward him and rested her elbows on the table. “So, tell me…Nash, is it?” she asked sweetly. “Tell me how I should handle a persistent man with a blatant disregard for the word
no
.”

“Ah, hell, darlin’. Most women can get away with a polite rejection,” he said easily. “But if that doesn’t work, then something a little more volatile is sometimes needed.” He leaned back in his chair and tipped the bottle to his lips. “That’s where I come in.”

“Good thing you were here, then.”

He nodded. “Sure was.”

“I guess I should thank you.”

“Yep.” He took another swig of his beer.

Bailey stood up so quickly, her chair banged against the wall and the entire bar came to a standstill. She slapped both hands on the table in front of her and glared at him. “Thank you, then…you egotistical jerk!”

Nash choked on his beer. “Wait. What?”

“Thanks for wasting ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back. If I had wanted to have this pointless conversation with you, I’d have invited you over here myself. But since I didn’t, you decided to prove what a stud you are.”

He shook his head. “Now, wait just a damn min—”

“Isn’t that what you are around here—the Thoroughbred stallion running fast and free with all the loose fillies?”

He looked unsure how to respond. “I...uh…”

“Well, I hate to screw up your breeding plans, Bucko, but you can get lost. This filly has nothing to offer you.” As if the cocky sonofabitch couldn’t help himself, his gaze lowered, pissing her off more. “Stop staring at my boobs. I didn’t dress this way for you. In fact, let’s get something else straight. I’m not your darlin’, your sweetheart, or some drunk chick you can persuade into going home with you.”

He peered around and seemed to realize everyone in the bar was staring at them. His expression hardened. “You done yelling at me yet?”

Breathing a little harder than before, Bailey composed herself and smoothed out her dress. “If you men wouldn’t dangle your manhood out there for everyone to see, then you wouldn’t have to worry about some woman wrapping her teeth around it.”

Nash stared at her for a moment, then smirked. “Was that an offer?”

A couple of men playing pool nearby chuckled.

“Jesus. You’re impossible.” She grabbed her purse and stormed out.

Chapter Two

Nash Sutherland shook his head.

Hell, all he had done was buy her a beer and rescue her from some pervert with his hand halfway up her skirt. If she’d wanted to verbally assault someone, that dickhead should’ve been the one on the receiving end. But, no. She’d yelled at him instead. Publicly. Like
he
was the pervert. The little blonde spitfire had unleashed her fury on the wrong man.

Sure, for a brief moment, he might have wondered how soft the inside of her thighs were and how they’d respond to his tongue trailing up them into parts unknown. But it wasn’t like he’d done it.

Nash might have come on a little strong and pushed his way over to her table, even after she’d declined the beer he’d tried to buy her, but he would never have forced himself on her like that shit-for-brains had. And after the way she’d yelled at him, Nash had been inclined to let her storm off.
Insane-ass woman.

But seconds after the angry blonde disappeared out the front door, he caught sight of Richard slipping out a side exit with a sinister grin on his face.

Fuck.

The girl obviously didn’t want company—his or anyone else’s, for that matter—but she was damn sure going to get it, whether she liked it or not. Nash jumped out of his chair and went after her.

She made it to the parking lot before he caught her. His hand shot out and latched onto her wrist, turning her around. “Wait a minute.”

“Let go of me.”

When she jerked her arm, he tightened his grip. He didn’t see Richard anywhere, but he wasn’t about to let her keep walking farther away from the safety of the bar…or him. “Hold on. I need to talk to you.”

She tried to wrench herself loose, but he held on. Out of frustration, she swung at him with her free arm. All he could do was keep a tight hold on her and block her flailing limbs. “Damn it! What’s your problem, lady?”

She gritted her teeth. “I asked you to let go of me.”

“No, you didn’t. You ordered me to. Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to tell you something.”

“I don’t have to listen to anything, you stupid asshole.”

This time, she swung her purse, clocking him in the cheek before he could duck. And then, as if being bitch-slapped with a brick wasn’t bad enough, the enraged woman tried to kick him in the nuts…and actually grazed one of them.

Sonofabitch.

Nash maneuvered her back against the tailgate of a nearby pickup. He took it easy on her, but he also had to protect himself until she calmed down. Both of them were already breathing heavy. “Are you done trying to kick my ass yet?”

She glared at him, fire burning in her eyes. “Are you so hard up for a woman that you have to chase one into the parking lot because you can’t accept that she refused your advances?”

“Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to make advances on you. If I had, we’d be in my bed screwing instead of standing in this parking lot.” He blocked her attempt at hitting him again and chuckled softly at her indignation. “Would you stop hitting me already? I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you. I only came out to make sure—”

“God, you really think you’re something special, don’t you?”

 
Well, I am a Sutherland…

He rolled his eyes at the thought. That was exactly the way his father looked at things, not Nash. He had more respect and pride in himself than that.

Aaron Sutherland wielded the power of the family name and flaunted their fortune every chance he got. But Nash didn’t want anything to do with it. As far as he was concerned, his father could take his inheritance and shove it up his ass…which was exactly what he’d told him the last time they’d spoken.
The prick.