Firefly Night

CHAPTER 3.5

I approached with my usual cocky stride, eyeing the men with obvious distaste. I took Lemon's hand, pulling her close, eyes locked on hers and my expression utterly serious. "I thought we were meeting inside," I reproached, rubbing small circles on her back. I could see her eyes narrow momentarily, eyeing me down before turning her head towards them.

"Sorry, I forgot," Lemon stammered as she tried to play along. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, like she was still caught between flight and fight. That made two of us. The thought of her coming out here tonight for Rem gnawed at me, a frustration that settled deep in my gut. Rem had gotten himself twisted up in everything that was wrong with the rodeo circuit—the women, the quick cash, the easy way out. Somewhere along the line, he'd forgotten the code we used to live by, leaving a woman like Lemon alone, vulnerable, in a place like this. It just wasn't acceptable. And he should know that.

"Let's head back in, then," I said, keeping my voice light, even though my eyes told a different story. I could feel the tension in her body, and I didn't miss the looks those guys were giving us. They weren't ready to back down, and it pissed me off more than I cared to admit. I stood my ground, locking eyes with each of them, daring them to make a move now that it wasn't three against one.

The ringleader—if you could call him that—eyed me up, trying to decide if I was worth the trouble. I straightened up, letting my stance do the talking. I wasn't the biggest guy in the room, but years of riding bulls had built me solid, and I knew how to handle myself. Lemon caught my eye, giving me a slight nod, and I could feel her trying to shake off the tension.

"Yeah, let's," she said, her voice steadier now. "You still owe me that dance." The thought of dancing—something I hadn't done in God knows how long—brought a half-smile to my face, as absurd as it was. But if it got us out of this situation, I'd play along.

I dropped her hand, letting my arm drape casually around her waist, pulling her close as I turned us back toward the bar. "Gentlemen," I said, my tone colder than the night air. I didn't look back as I led Lemon away, my grip on her firm but reassuring.

As soon as we were inside, I hissed in her ear, "What were you thinking letting those guys follow you?"

"I didn't see them," she answered defensively, pushing my arm away. "But I can take care of myself."

I growled with irritation. "You may be strong Odell, but there were three of them."

"Did you follow me?" Lemon asked, turning to see me. That's what she was worried about? Me following her?

"Look," I said, my voice low and steady, "I don't know what you're caught up in with Rem, and frankly, I don't care. But you need to watch yourself out there. Those guys weren't messing around and next time I might not be around to step in."

Lemon's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might snap back at me. But she didn't. She just nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of defiance and something else—something like gratitude, though she'd probably never admit it.

"Thanks," she muttered, almost too quiet to hear. Then, as if catching herself, she straightened up, that mask of confidence sliding back into place. "But I don't need a babysitter, Colt."

"Never said you did," I replied, leaning back in my chair. "Just saying you don't have to be one for Rem either."

The tension in the air was thick. I glanced over at Tessa, who was watching the whole thing from the corner with a mix of amusement and concern. "We should stay here for a while. Just until they leave."

Lemon hesitated, clearly not thrilled about the idea of sticking around, but she followed me through the crowded bar anyway. I led her over to a table where Tessa was already sitting, her sharp eyes taking in everything. When I pulled out a chair for Lemon, she paused, glancing between me and the seat like she was trying to figure out my angle.