Normally, if someone I wanted to do business with had rejected an offer, I’d wait a couple days, give them a chance to think about things, then return with something new if they didn’t contact me first. Sometimes, they called, wanting to accept my original offer because they realized it was the best they’d get.

Somehow, I didn’t think that Syll would think that way. Which meant I should have been analyzing her business, coming up with a new approach since I hadn’t even had the chance to tell her what I’d pay for her bar. Working on a Saturday was normal for me, but I couldn’t get myself to focus on anything other than how much I wanted to see Syll again.

By late afternoon, I’d given up on concentrating on anything and decided to head over to her bar. I hadn’t gotten a look inside last time, which meant I did have a legitimate reason to go there. Seeing Syll was just a bonus.

If it was really business, I should’ve put on a suit, and if it was just to see inside, I could’ve worn the same casual clothes I’d been in already. Instead, I chose a nice pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that I’d always been told I looked good in. I didn’t even bother to try to explain it away.

The moment I got out of the car, I realized something was wrong. The bar wasn’t open yet. Or maybe it was. It was difficult to tell since there wasn’t a sign on the door. Because there wasn’t a door. More or less.

“Syll?” I didn’t even try to hide the concern in my voice as I went inside. “Hello?”

“Hello?” She stepped out of the back room, a broom in hand. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw me. “It’s you.”

“What happened?” I gestured around me as I took in the chaos.

“Some asshole broke into my bar, trashed the place, and left a threatening note.” She glared at me. “That’s what happened.”

A flash of anger went through me, and I took a step toward her. “Are you okay?”

Any decent guy would’ve asked the same question, but that didn’t explain me wanting to find out who’d done this and kick his ass. And if he’d hurt her…my hands curled into fists at just the thought of it.

“I’m fine,” she said, a bit of surprise in her voice. “But I can’t say it makes me feel good that I was sleeping when this happened, and I didn’t hear it.”

I leaned down and picked up a tipped over table. “Did you call the police?”

“They left about five minutes ago.”

“And they just left you by yourself?” I ran through a mental list of my contacts at the local police department, wondering who I could talk to about getting a squad car to watch over her…the bar. Watch over the bar.

“I am an adult, Mr. Hunter. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” I had to admit, she sounded more pissed than scared. “Even when people aren’t above trying to bully me into doing what they want.”

I turned at the accusation in her voice. She’d set aside the broom and was now glaring at me, hands on hips.

“Are you trying to imply something?” I asked mildly.

She shook her head. “Not implying anything. I’m flat-out saying it. You came here, with your expensive suit, said you wanted to buy my bar, and when I said no, you acted like you hadn’t heard a word I said. Like you had some right to keep talking when I said I wasn’t interested.”

Was she serious?

“I just think it’s kind of funny that the day after I told you something you didn’t want to hear, my place gets trashed and I got threatened.”

“I would never–” The sentence broke off the moment I realized what she’d said. “You were threatened?”

“The cops took the note and the knife–”

“The what?” I took another step toward her, vaguely aware that I was getting into her personal space.

“I’m fine,” she said, holding her ground. “But I still think it’s a little suspicious that this happened right after I turned down two of your offers to buy my bar.”

It finally hit me then. She thought I had done this. Trashed her place. Threatened her.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, or what you think you know about me,” I fought to keep my voice even, “but I would never resort to threats or vandalism because a deal didn’t go through.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Her eyes met mine.

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone,” I insisted. “Least of all you.”

“Least of all me?”

Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Hell, I hadn’t meant to feel it. She was close enough now that I could smell her citrus shampoo. I wasn’t going to try to explain to her what I meant because I didn’t want to think about it. I did, however, want to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

It would be so easy to reach out and touch her, to put one hand on her waist and pull her against me so I could feel how her body curved. My other hand tangling in those curls to hold her still while I took her mouth, explored every inch with my tongue.

She swallowed hard, her eyes wide. I had no doubt she could read on my face everything I was thinking, but she didn’t step back, didn’t tell me to keep my hands to myself. I gave her a minute to decide if she was going to stop me because, if she didn’t, I’d kiss her and damn any consequences to my business venture.

Just before I acted on my desire, I heard crunching glass behind us.

I spun around, automatically putting myself between Syll and the stranger who was walking into the bar. He was short and stocky, with buzzed hair so pale that it had to be either a very light blond or premature gray. The arrogant light in his hazel eyes told me that he was sizing me up as competition of some kind, underestimating me, and most likely overestimating his own ability.

Even though I’d never set eyes on this guy in my life, I knew his type. Ones who carried chips on their shoulders and thought that the world owed them something. He was exactly the sort of man who’d do something like this, whether for revenge or for money. If he thought he could intimidate me, he–

“Hey, babe.”

The glare he gave me was at odds with the easy tone of his voice and his word choice. Which meant he was talking to Syll. And calling her babe.

“I came as soon as I could,” he continued, opening his arms as Syll stepped around me. He hugged her, shooting me a smug expression over her head. She pulled back enough to look up at him, and he kissed her.

I clenched my jaw tight and forced myself to keep my expression blank. I didn’t know Syll, and I sure as hell didn’t have a claim on her. Which meant that there was no reason why watching her being kissed by that smarmy asshole should piss me off so badly.

“Thank you for coming,” she said when he finally let her come up for air. Her face was flushed, but something about it told me that it was more from embarrassment than passion.

Or maybe I was just reading her completely wrong again. After all, I had thought that she wanted me to kiss her less than two minutes ago.

Then again, maybe she had wanted it, and I’d misjudged her character.

All of this flashed through my mind in the time it took for her to turn back toward me.

“Ja–Mr. Hunter, this is Billy Outhwaite, my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend.

Right.

“Billy, this is Jax Hunter.”

“What’s he doing here?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets, so I wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ punch this douche in his face. “I stopped by and saw what happened. I was helping her clean up.”

“And how do you know her?” He stepped toward me, a mulish glint in his eyes.

“I offered to buy her bar yesterday.” I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I’d be damned if I let him make me feel like I had.

He looked down at Syll. “You didn’t tell me that.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t talked to you since then.”

I wondered if I was the only one who could hear the irritation in her voice.

“Well, I’m here now, so you don’t need to be.” He crossed his arms, puffing out his chest in what I was sure was supposed to be a threatening gesture.

Too bad for him that I had three younger brothers, all well over six feet tall, and much more intimidating than him. If I didn’t let them push me around, I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this guy do it.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make.” Thanks to dealing with all sorts of people in my business, I’d learned how to keep my cool when talking to pretty much anyone, but Billy was pushing my limits.

“Listen here, asshole.” He crossed the distance between us until only a few inches remained, but I didn’t flinch or back away. “She’s my girlfriend. Mine. You got that?”

For a moment, I thought he was going to poke me in the chest, and if that happened, I knew I’d snap and probably break his finger. I needed to calm down because escalating this wasn’t going to be good for anyone involved.

But that didn’t mean I was simply going to take his shit.

“Step. Back,” I said through gritted teeth. “She was here by herself, and after what happened, I didn’t think that was safe.”

“She wasn’t by herself. I’m here.”

I didn’t bother pointing out that being here now didn’t mean she hadn’t been alone when I arrived. He didn’t seem like the sort to take to kindly to that kind of help.

“Now you are,” Syll spoke up. “He came in, we talked. He picked up a table. Knock it off and help me clean up.”

He didn’t even look at her, but after a few seconds, he must have considered me sufficiently cowed, because he took a step back.

And then he sucker punched me right in the face.