So. Long(109)
A blonde with even bigger tits than mine, though probably perkier, stumbles up to Jackson. “Oh, my God. Jackson Tremaine! Can I get your autograph?”
Jackson grins at the girl. “Absolutely.”
She turns to me. Her eyes narrow for a moment, but then she smiles. “Can we use your pen?”
“Of course.” I hand Jack my pen. “Be my guest.”
He wags his eyebrows at me like a cartoon villain.
She pulls her scoop neck sweater low, until her boob is at risk of a wardrobe malfunction.
Quick, cover the children’s eyes.
Jack’s grin morphs into a grimace. He turns to me, as though asking permission. Yeah. As if.
I give him a one shoulder shrug. “Not my dairy, not my milk cow.”
“Thanks.” He turns and signs the top edge of her left breast. “You have a good day now.”
She looks panic stricken. “But… can’t we get a picture?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She readies her phone to take the shot. He turns to the side and props his arm on her shoulder, and she turns into him so that her boobs press against his side. She snaps the photo. Jack tries to pull away, but she grabs the back of his shirt and takes a second and third.
Finally, she lets go, only to throw herself at him, all but smearing herself down his front side as she hugs him and profusely thanks him.
The next person in line watches all of this in awe, as do I. At least, by the time the girl lets Jackson loose, I’ve peeled my chin off the floor.
The floodgates seem to open on Jackson as soon as the girl walks away. He’s suddenly surrounded by a growing crowd. My line dwindles.
I let out a sigh.
“Thunder thief.” Shay drags over a chair from one of the tables set up for customers.
“Nah, it’s fine. I had fun while it lasted.”
Jack catches my attention, pleading with his eyes.
I lift an eyebrow and mouth, “Sorry?”
A man steps in front of my table.
I pull my gaze from Jackson, focusing on the only person now interested in having my attention. Oh, he’s big. The guy is probably at least six-three.
I smile. “Hey. How’re you today?”
His expression changes from indeterminate emotion to mad as hell in point-zero-seven seconds. “Are you Ronnie Fitz?”
All the warm and fuzzies I’ve collected all morning scatter like so much dandelion fluff in the harsh, freezing wind coming off this guy’s glare.
I stand, backing up a step. “Yes. Can I help you?”
Shay pushes her seat back and rises as well.
The man steps closer, pushing the table into my legs, and his voice booms. “You bitch. My Sara left me after she read your book.”
My eyes widen. Shay’s hand finds my back, steady and calming.
I square my shoulders. “Sir. I’m so sorry that happened to you, but I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“She said something about seeing how I’d never be a good partner for her.” He grabs the edges of my table and flips it, sending books, pens, and the rest of the paraphernalia fluttering to the floor.
The world stops. A hush falls over the room.
The man takes another step, reaching for me. I freeze. Shay’s fingers dig into my back.
A hand clamps down on the man’s shoulder as Jackson says, “Sir. I suggest you back the fuck off.”
The man turns, his fist flying right in front of my face. I throw my arms around his bicep. He stops, and his crazed eyes find me.
“What the hell?” He shakes me loose.
Jackson draws back and coldcocks the guy in the jaw. The man stumbles. He falls. I push against his shoulder as he slumps into me. He’s bigger than he looks. More than I can hold up.
Shit.
I trip backward into Shay. We end up in a heap on the floor.
Jack shakes out his hand as he jumps over the guy’s legs and grabs his wrist. “Ronnie, you okay?”
“Just get him off of me.”
The man’s bulk is deadweight on my legs. His head lolls to the side as Jackson drags him off of us.
The crowd erupts in applause, and several people either take pictures—or maybe they’re filming this mess.
Great.
“C’mon.” Jack pulls me to my feet, calling over his shoulder, “Someone get security.”
Shay pops up like she’s on springs. “That was crazy.”
Jackson pulls me into his arms, his hand covering the back of my head. “What were you thinking, grabbing hold of him like that?”
“I don’t know. It was a reaction when I saw him turn to hit you.” A shiver runs through me.
He sweeps my curls aside, pushing my head back, and looking at my forehead. “You sure your head’s all right?”
I nod.
He lays a lingering kiss at my temple. “Silly woman, I can take a punch. What was all that about anyway?”