Niamh clasped the edge of the bar with an evil smile. “How will he learn if you don’t speak your mind?” she asked me.
Austin’s brow pinched. He gestured for me to go on. “What’s the problem? Give it to me.”
I sighed, realizing they weren’t going to let me out of this one.
“Well…honestly, it’s not a very good bottle. It’s inexpensive, right? Which I’d expect in many dive bars, don’t get me wrong. I usually don’t order wine in a dive bar. It’s just that you’re in a wine town, so I figured it would at least be decent. That was my bad. I assumed. Second, it’s been open for a long time. It’s gone off.” I shrugged. “I was hoping to try something from one of the local vineyards. It’s okay, though. Coors will be fine.”
The guy next to me whistled, his overgrown mustache flaring with the sudden breeze. “And that’s why she’s divorced,” he said.
Austin’s shoulders swiveled. His left hand darted out so fast I couldn’t even get out a surprised “oh!” His fist smashed into the hairy man’s face with such force it knocked the guy off of the stool. His back slammed into the ground, followed by his head. His nose spurted blood instantly.
“Oh my God!” I jerked and turned, pushing into Niamh.
She shoved me back onto my stool, clearly unconcerned.
“What just happened?” I whispered so as not to screech. I’d seen a few fights in my day, but I’d never seen someone punched with such force. “Seriously, what…”
“He disrespected a lady in my bar, and he was served a warning never to do it again,” Austin said. “Do you want to try a different wine? I have a more expensive one.”
The man got up, cupping his face. With bleary eyes, he gave Austin a somber look. Right before he hurried for the door, he shot me a death stare.
Prickles of unease worked through my body. I’d seen that look before. Although none of this was my fault, I’d just created an enemy. A possibly dangerous enemy in a very small town.
I felt eyes on me from around the room. I shook my head, lowering my heating face. While Austin had probably thought he was being sweet, I wasn’t a naïve twenty-something anymore, impressed by his show of masculinity. Violence bred violence. Austin wasn’t in any danger—he was clearly the dominant male—but that guy had looked angry enough to go for the weakest link. In this case, me.
Some of the people who’d witnessed the incident probably thought I was at fault. That I’d made Austin react the way he had. The guy with the newly broken nose certainly seemed to think so.
My instinct was to keep quiet. Like every woman I knew, I’d been taught to go with the flow. To suffer in silence. But guys like Austin needed to start thinking about how their actions affected others. Bad guys kept winning because good guys didn’t understand they were part of the problem.
So, despite the embarrassment of going against the grain, I spoke my truth.
“I’m really grateful that you tried to defend me,” I started. “But that guy is now humiliated. He’ll blame it on me, and if he gets drunk enough, I’ll be the one he gets his revenge on. You’ve just created a very dangerous situation for me. I know you meant well, and I thank you for trying, but often a man doesn’t account for how dangerous the fallout can be for the woman. Can you call me a cab? If he’s still out there, I don’t trust my chances.”
My stupid face was red, I could feel the heat, but I met Austin’s eyes, anyway. I expected indignation or sullen anger. I wouldn’t have blamed him for either. It couldn’t be easy to have your world view challenged with information you probably thought came out of nowhere.
But when I met those clear blue eyes, they weren’t brimming with anger, or even narrowed in annoyance. He didn’t open his mouth to berate me for my ungratefulness or shrug me off as a hysterical woman who didn’t understand the ways of the world. His intelligent gaze silently regarded me.
“Get her better wine,” Niamh said, her voice subdued to match the moment.
Austin nodded, the movement so subtle it was almost indistinguishable, and moved away.
“Fair play to ya,” Niamh said, nodding. “You’re exactly right. Some of these muscle-head nincompoops are no better than oxen. Good for a specific job, then better off put out to pasture, dumb buggers. Put them all in a pen and let them fight amongst themselves, I say. Let Darwin sort it out.
“But I better explain how this town works. This isn’t L.A. This is O’Briens, nothing but a speck on the map. The locals here all know each other. We all look after each other. Now, if that man beside you had been a Dick—a…tourist—Austin Steele would’ve made a very big blunder, yes he would’ve. But among the locals, if Austin Steele tells someone you are to be respected, then you will be respected. And that hairy sonuvabitch is definitely a local. If he’d shower once in a while, he might get some interest. He needs a pair of scissors and a razor, the dirty bastard.
“Now, of course you wouldn’t have known that. That’s why I’m tellin’ you. Don’t you feel bad for speaking up. As I said, you could’ve been in some trouble if that was a Dick. We get weird ones around these parts, and you’re not equipped to deal with it. You don’t realize yet that this place is full of opportunities for unmarked graves. That’ll come in time. For right now, you’ve given Austin Steele something to think about. So that was good. Keep that up. I like to see him on his toes. We have too many yes men around here, if you ask me. Spineless, all of ’em. Austin Steele has it too easy. I only play nice because he’s the keeper of the alcohol, you know what I mean.”
I wanted to ask why Austin held so much clout, whether she’d created any of those unmarked graves, and also why she kept saying his full name, but before I could get any of my questions out, he came back with a bottle of wine.
He lifted the opener, his bicep straining his shirt. As he turned the handle on the cork screw, he shifted his body slightly, giving me a view of his large, flexed shoulder. Another turn of the cork screw, and I got a full display of his popping pecs within his shirt. His cockeyed grin said he knew I was enjoying the show.
I grinned despite myself and then rolled my eyes at his antics. Niamh gave him a confused frown, although I wasn’t sure why.
“You’re tough,” he said as the cork popped out. His smile dwindled, noticing Niamh. A moment later, before he poured, he leaned toward me, his eyes piercing. “Please know that I would never intentionally put you in harm’s way. You will get home safely. I will make sure of it, myself.”
I was mesmerized by the fire in his eyes. By the absolute certainty in his tone. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
He nodded then straightened, his message delivered. The show over.
I was still holding my breath. Warmth spread through my middle.
No one had ever made a fuss about my safety before. Not since I was a little girl. Matt had been nice enough through our marriage, but he’d never thought much about my being in danger, not in upper-middle class suburbia.
My heart squished and tears welled up out of nowhere. What must it be like to be taken care of by a man like this?
“And that’s why they call him the uncrowned alpha,” Niamh murmured, holding up her drink to be refilled. Austin had moved down the bar to help someone. Paul deflated when he realized the job fell to him.
“What does that mean?” I asked, wiping my eyes quickly. I needed to get a hold of myself. An act of kindness shouldn’t turn me into a puddle of goo.
“He’s like a…” Niamh rattled the ice in her glass. “Mayor. Kinda. Without the votes.”
That didn’t make any sense, but as Austin neared I let it go. Half the things these people said didn’t make any sense.
“So?” he asked as Paul delivered another drink to Niamh. “What’s the verdict?”
“It’s fine,” I managed, reaching for the glass. I sipped it to get him to move away, ready to drink just about anything. But as soon as the flavor hit my tongue, my eyes dipped downward and the world stopped. Spicy, smoky, soft and light, the wine serenaded my taste buds. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste.
“Good?” Austin asked, his voice a deep rumble.
“Very.” I took another sip. The second sip was even better than the first. “Delicious.”
“There.” Austin tapped the bar and gave Niamh a smug look. “See? I can impress a connoisseur. It just takes the best, most expensive bottle from my personal collection to do it.” He winked at me and moved down the bar.
“Oh no, that’s—” But he was already too far away. “He shouldn’t have done that,” I said.
“’Course he should have. You were dead right—what’s he doin’ servin’ flat, cheap wine in a place like this?”
“Not flat—red wine usually doesn’t have bubbles. It—”
“Whatever. The point is, all he has to do is walk down the street and get the good stuff. His pride is gettin’ in the way of good business. But here now, you’ve humbled him. He’s learned he has to get on the mark.”