Page 58 of Dangerous Attraction

It's unlikely she'd tell me anyway.

I even debated messaging my brother to ask him if he knows what's wrong with her, since I know he spent time with her yesterday, but then I remembered him telling me that if she's in trouble, she wouldn't tell him, so I decided against it.

Although, that didn't alleviate my concern. If anything, it heightened it.

Is it possible she's in more trouble and that's why her whole demeanor has shifted?

Or is she really just tired like she said she is?

I watch with narrowed eyes as Garrett sidles up to the bar while her back is turned. And by the way he lifts onto his toes and leans over the wooden ledge, I know he's staring at her ass.

Fury spikes inside me, and I'm slipping out of the booth, making my way toward them, annoyed by his brazen actions, and anticipating what's going to come next.

When she turns around, and uncertainty mars her face as she moves toward him and asks what he wants, my jaw clenches.

He reaches for her face, likely wanting to push the strands of hair falling in front of her eyes behind her ear, but the movement causes her to flinch, and black dots enter my vision as I stride toward them.

Curling my hand around the back of Garrett's neck, I drag him backward and push him away from the bar.

"Get. Lost," I grunt, glaring at him.

My gaze darts to Trix, who's standing there, seemingly frozen, her emerald eyes wide with alarm.

"Are you okay?" I ask, as my eyes dip to her hands, which are twisted together in front of her, while her fingers pick at the paint on her nails.

She gulps, and nods, her lips quirking as her eyes flick to Garrett, then back to me.

"Thank you," she says quietly.

Inclining my head, I spin around and face the rest of the room, ignoring multiple quizzical stares pointed my way.

I remain there for the rest of the night, shooting warning glares at every fucker who approaches the bar, and grumbling at anyone who tries to sit down with me.

It's obvious she's jumpy today, and I don't need to know why because I'll sit here and fend everyone off so she can let her guard down and feel, somewhat, safe.

As the afternoon rolls into evening, and everyone starts clearing out, riding home or heading to their rooms here, I help Trix clean up, letting her do the living room upstairs while I handle all the tables downstairs.

Once she's loaded the dishwasher and turned it on, she exits the kitchen, turning the lights off behind her. She grabs her bag from beneath the bar, then yawns again as she slings it over her shoulder.

She watches me through slitted eyes as I move around the bar, stopping directly in front of her, our shoes brushing against each other.

I lift my knuckles to the underside of her jaw, and she tilts her head back, looking up at me as I stare down at her with concern.

"What's going on, Red?" I ask quietly, my thumb stroking along her chin.

Her eyes close, and she sighs. Lifting her hand and wrapping her delicate fingers around mine, she pulls them away from her face.

"I'm just tired," she mumbles, eyes lazily fluttering back open.

Her fingers twitch in mine, and I wrap my hand securely around hers, tugging her toward me until her head is resting against my chest and my arms circle her body.

Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing, but I feel like she needs comfort. She needs to feel safe and secure, so I'm hoping I can be the one to give her that.

The feeling of her body against mine is foreign, but when she releases a deep breath, and her arms hesitantly slide around my back, it feels right.

She fits perfectly in my arms, like she belongs there.

I rest my head on hers, breathing in her cinnamon scent as I tighten my hold on her, drawing her impossibly closer.