“Uh . . .” It was the only sound my mouth could make just then.
“Sorry, my man.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, the gold band of his watch glinting beneath the soft overhead lights. “Didn’t realize she was taken.”
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
The dude lumbered off the stool and took a backward step. All the while, I eyed that freaking watch longingly, like it was the last piece of cake and I was supposed to be starting a life-long sugar-free diet the next day.
“Oh no! That’s not—” I attempted, but the intrusive stranger cut me off.
“No need to apologize, mistakes happen.” His arm shifted up to circle my shoulders, and he gave me a jostle. “Not like I can blame you,” he said on a laugh. “My woman’s a true beauty.”
Um . . . What the what?!
The man—and my father’s savior that was currently attached to his wrist—moved across the bar, scoping out the room for another woman to entertain himself. Once he was gone, I jerked back around to the guy I was pretty sure was clinically insane, my eyes spitting fire and my tongue moments away from doing the very same thing as I knocked his arm off of me.
“What the hell!” I snapped, losing my cool completely as I hopped off my stool and grabbed my purse. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but obviously you need some serious professional help.”
“Just sit down, and I’ll explain everything. I’ll even pay for your next drink.”
Was this guy kidding? I mean, sure, he was good-looking—well, actually, now that I was really looking at him, searching for any visible signs that he was in the midst of a mental crisis, I could see that he wasn’t just good-looking. The man was downright fine.
Saying he was tall and fit would have been an insult to him. He couldn’t be lumped in with all the other tall, fit men in existence. He clearly stood on his own. Even sitting comfortably on a barstool, hunched over enough to rest his forearms and elbows on the aged, scarred wood of the bar top, the guy sat a full head higher than me.
His sandy blond hair was disheveled in that way only men could get away with. That wild, careless, mop that looked like it had seen more fingers than brush bristles, but still managed to be sexy in an unfathomable way.
He had unfairly high and sharp cheekbones, a strong, masculine jaw, and his nose had just the slightest bump in the bridge that prevented it from being straight as an arrow, and as weird as it might have sounded, it actually added to his appeal. Without that bump, he might have been too perfect.
Enviably long, dark lashes rimmed a set of mesmerizing eyes. They weren’t just brown; they were flecked with gold and fire as well. They were the color of sherry, and inexplicably, I suddenly found myself craving a drink. I’d never tasted sherry before, didn’t have the first clue whether I’d like it or not, but there you had it.
The muscles that coiled around his arms from his wrists all the way to his shoulders bulged beneath the long sleeves of his olive drab Henley while the ones on his back danced beneath the faded fabric. Tree trunks masquerading as thighs filled the denim wrapped around them, leading down to a pair of scuffed, well-worn motorcycle boots.
The man was an Adonis. It was a shame he was certifiable.
A single corner of his mouth hiked up in a smirk that downright smoldered. “Say the word when you’re done checking me out, then I’ll explain the deal. But I’m happy to sit here quietly until you’ve looked your fill.”
“Is there someone I should call for you? Like your doctor at the mental facility you’ve obviously escaped from?”
“You have a strange way of saying ‘thank you,’ grift.”
My eyes bugged out so wide, it was a miracle they didn’t fall right out of my skull. “Thank you?” I chose to focus on that issue and ignore the nickname he’d given me. One problem at a time. “What in the living hell should I be thanking you for? I don’t recall asking for you to come over here and interrupt the perfectly pleasant conversation I was having with someone else while copping a feel without permission. You’re lucky I don’t have a taser on me, or I’d have given you a shock so bad you’d never be able to have kids, buddy.”
Note to self, buy a freaking taser.
The humor suddenly disappeared from the man’s expression, and when he leaned in closer to me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on ends. This wasn’t a flirtatious lean, this was a lean that said he was about to drop a serious hammer.
“I just did you a huge favor, grift—”
“Stop calling me that,” I hissed between clenched jaws.
He arched a quizzical brow. “It’s what you are isn’t it?” That question stopped me in my tracks. Ice filled my veins and chest, so cold it nearly stopped my heart from beating and my lungs from drawing breath. All I could do was sit there mute as he continued. “Saw you boost that prick’s wallet,” he revealed quietly, only loud enough for me to hear. “I have to admit, you’ve got some serious skills.”
Oh God. He saw me. I couldn’t breathe.
He kept going. “You’re good. Probably one of the best I’ve ever seen, and if it makes you feel any better, there isn’t another person here who has a clue.”
I was going to be sick. “Are—are you a cop?”
“Not a cop.”
Well, that was a relief. Except . . . “Then how—”
“Like I said, there probably aren’t many people better than you. I just happen to be one of them.” To prove his point, he slid my wallet across the bar. He’d managed to get into my purse and snatch my wallet without me even knowing. “That’s why I knew the moment you spotted the watch on that guy’s wrist. And it’s also when I knew I had to step in, because you were about to make a huge mistake.”
My throat suddenly felt like it was packed with sawdust. “What-what do you mean?”
“That guy you nearly robbed? Let’s just say he’d have no problem coming after you to get back what you took. And he’d make the process more painful than you could probably imagine.”
I highly doubted that. Thanks to those guys my dad had swindled, I had a pretty good idea how criminals reacted to being taken for suckers, but that didn’t mean this stranger’s words didn’t cause my skin to prickle with goosebumps. If what he was saying was really true, thanks to him, I’d dodged a serious bullet. The last thing my family and I needed was two sets of bad guys coming after us. One was terrible enough.
My curiosity now well and truly piqued, I leaned in closer to the handsome—and possibly insane—guy, and whispered, “Who was that dude?”
“Alex Markoff. Not someone you need to know, trust me,” he answered cryptically before a cunning smirk took over his handsome expression.
“Says you,” I mumbled sullenly over the rim of my cocktail glass before sucking more of my drink back.
“Think about it. How’s a guy like that afford a watch like the one he was wearing? The answer to that is, not in any good way. You’re lucky I came along when I did.”
The shiver of dread I’d felt a moment ago was relieved by his get-out-of-jail-free card. “Lucky isn’t quite the word I was thinking,” I snarked before narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “Why did you come along when you did? And how do you know so much about a guy who’s “supposedly””—I added air quotes for effect—“such a bad guy?”