“What’s up, sweetness?” he asked mildly. “You sound prickly.”
“Nothing’s up. And I’m allowed to be bloody prickly if I want, okay?”
Hunter glanced down at the table, noting the number of empty cocktail glasses on it, then back at the wobbly muzzle of her gun. Looked like Vin had been right to suspect Ellie had had a little too much to drink. But who’d have thought such a sweet girl would be such a mean drunk?
“So exactly how many cocktails have you had?”
“Not enough. Keep still. I want to shoot you.”
Hunter gave an inward sigh. “Go on then.”
Ellie mimed pulling the trigger. “Bang. You’re dead.”
“Feel better now?”
“Since you’re still standing, not particularly.”
“Ah, so the problem is me, is it?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Sarcasm dripped from her tone.
Hunter gave her another measuring look. Obviously she was spoiling for a fight, which was very un-Ellie-like of her. “How about we discuss this in the truck?”
“No.” She waved the gun at him, her chin tilted at a mulish angle. “I don’t want to discuss this in the freaking truck. In fact, you can piss off. I’m going to get myself a bloody taxi.”
Huh. Ellie had never been difficult—in fact normally they got on very well. So where had all this hostility come from? Was it the alcohol? Shit, this was so the wrong night for her to suddenly get pissy with him. He didn’t have the patience for it. Making an effort to stay calm, he said, “Why get a taxi when you have a perfectly good truck waiting to take you home?”
Ellie eyed him. “Vin sent you, didn’t he?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, actually it does. I’m not some teenager out past curfew you have to ship home, you know.” She fiddled with her gun. “I’m an adult and have been for some time.”
Oh Jesus. He’d had a full-on fucking day and his mood had not been improved by the discovery of an invitation to his brother’s wedding sitting in his mailbox. He was already unsettled by the prospect of a family get-together and a drunk Ellie was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.
Hunter glanced down at his watch. Christ, it was nearly one thirty. “Adult or not, it’s late and I need to get you home. So get in the bloody truck.”
Her eyes widened at his tone. Then she folded her arms. “No.”
Slowly, Hunter pushed himself away from the chair. Briefly debated picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her. Discarded the idea. Someone would probably call the cops and he’d be done for kidnapping or some shit like that. Of course he could leave her here, but that would never be an option. Ellie Fox was precious, not only to him but to Vin as well, and he’d be damned if he’d leave his best friend’s little sister drunk and alone, no matter how obnoxious she was being.
He narrowed his gaze at her. “Get in the truck, little girl.”
“Oh my freaking God! Did you just call me little girl?”
“Yeah, I did. If you insist on acting like a child, I’ll treat you like one.”
A look of outrage crossed her face. “A child? I am not a—”
“It’s one in the morning, you’re drunk, you’re being difficult and you’re wearing a slutty outfit. I’m not leaving you here.”
“A slutty outfit?” She sat bolt upright in her chair. “My costume’s got nothing to do with—”
“Like I said. You’re drunk. In a bar full of freaks. Wearing a slutty outfit. Give me a lecture about your right to wear whatever the hell you want another time, okay? I’m here to take you home and that’s what I’m going to do.” He folded his arms. “So be a good girl and go get in the truck.”
Chapter Two
A hot flush crept up Ellie’s neck. Hunter stood opposite her, all dark and sexy, a hard look on his perfectly sculpted features, a look he never normally gave her. A look that for some reason she found insanely hot. Which only made her angrier.
Sliding her feet off the table, she pushed herself up and out of the chair in a sharp movement. Only for the ground to shift unexpectedly under her feet. She stumbled and a warm arm curved around her waist to steady her, a familiar, spicy smell engulfing her. A smell that was all Hunter. A combination of the woody scent of his aftershave, worn leather and sun-warmed skin. Reminding her of all the days and nights she’d spent as a kid with him looking after her, reading her stories, playing games, watching TV. Helping her with her homework. Distracting her from the depressing reality of having a mother who more or less lived in mental health institutions, a father who’d disappeared from her life when she was still a baby and a brother who was struggling to keep their tiny family together.
Hunter, who’d always given her the attention she’d never gotten from anyone else. Who’d made her feel loved and cared for. And who would never see her as anything more than a child.
Angrily she jerked herself away from him, struggling to retain her balance. “Go away, patronising jerk,” she muttered. Part of her—the drunk part—badly wanted a fight but the more sensible—and more sober—part whispered that perhaps a crowded bar wasn’t the best place for it. That perhaps she should do what he said, at least until they were somewhere private so she could let him have it properly.
“Suit yourself.” Hunter stepped away. “You sure you can walk?”
Ellie gritted her teeth, willing the floor to stop moving. “Yes.”
“And have you finished acting like a sulky teenager?”
Asshole. “Goes both ways, Chase. If you treat me like a child, I’ll continue to act like one.”
Hunter eyed her for a moment. “I wouldn’t go around making stupid statements like that, sweetness. You might find your behind getting spanked.”
For a second a vision popped into her startled brain of herself over his knee with her jumpsuit down around her ankles and her bare buttocks reddened from his hand. Adrenaline spiked, her breath catching.
Hunter raised an eyebrow and she felt her blush deepen. “Don’t be a prick,” she said, feeling even madder with him and hoping to God he couldn’t read her mind. Then again, maybe he should. That’d teach him. “I’m not two years old, you know.”
“Apparently. Though I’ve seen no evidence of it. Come on, the truck’s in the street.” Without waiting for her, he turned and began threading his way through the crowd to the bar entrance.
Ellie took a short breath, trying to calm her racing pulse, confused and angry and still stupidly turned on by the unexpected spanking fantasy. Crap, she was so out of control, and that wasn’t a good thing tonight. Not with him around.
Why not? Perhaps that’s what you need. Perhaps being out of control and less inhibited is a good thing…
Oh man, she didn’t need that thought in her head. It was too tempting. Made her think of doing things that were completely out of character. Things such as going down on him in his truck, tasting him while he put his hands in her hair. While he moaned her name. Yeah, that would be one way of making sure he knew he wasn’t her babysitter any longer.
Outside, the street was full of its usual quota of late-night drunks, obnoxious club-goers and out-of-control teenagers. A crowd of young men—a stag party from the looks of things—catcalled Ellie as she went past. One of them reached out and hooked an arm around her waist. “How much, darling?” the man slurred drunkenly in her ear.
Ellie, already annoyed, pushed him away with rather more force than strictly necessary. The man got a little annoyed himself, cursing and trying to make another grab at her.
“Hey,” Hunter said mildly, coming up beside her. “Hands off the lady, buddy.” His tone was good-natured, but the drunken idiot clearly saw something else in his eyes because the guy held up his hands in a “hey, she’s all yours” gesture before walking on down the road with his mates.
The moment did not do anything for Ellie’s mood. “Don’t say a word,” she said shortly. “Especially not ‘I told you so’.”
Hunter shrugged. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetness. Come on, the truck’s over here.”
Not far away, parked under a streetlight, was his truck, Fox Chase Construction on the side of it. He unlocked it, pulled open the door for her. Ellie slid in and sat there silently seething as he got in the driver’s side.
“All right,” he said as he closed the door. “Why the hell are you being such a pain in the ass?”
Ellie leaned back in her seat, put her boots up on the dash and folded her arms. “I’m sick of you and Vin treating me like a kid all the time. Or some stupid damsel in distress needing to be rescued. Like just now for example.”
Sodium glow from the streetlights flooded through the truck’s windows, highlighting the perfect bone structure of Hunter’s face, casting his eyes into deep shadow. His temper wasn’t easily roused but when it was, it tended to burn hot. And she could tell it was on the point of burning hot right now.
“So you wanted to be pawed by some drunken dickhead? In that case get out. There’s a whole fucking city full of them outside.”