Page 48 of Old-Fashioned

I had just stepped out of the bathroom when I heard Abel tell Frank, “Okay, going to make us breakfast. Wait for her to get ready at her place, and then we will be there.”

“Okay. Be careful you two.” And with that Abel hung up.

While Abel had gotten ready, I had grabbed a soda and stood on his back deck, marveling at the view that laid out before me, and twenty minutes later, seeing Abel leaned up against his sliding glass door, I took back every thought I had.

Yes, I could stare at the mountains and never get tired of it for the rest of my life, but they were second only to this man.

And speaking of this man, when I heard the sliding glass door open, I looked over my shoulder at him.

He winked at me, and said, “Breakfast is ready.”

I nodded, and then followed him back into the house, sat down at his island, and together we ate the bacon, eggs, and toast, in silence.

And when I let out a lady-like burp, Abel snorted, “Compliments to the chef. Appreciate it.”

I giggled.

An hour later, I was at the end of the bar.

My stomach was so full it felt so happy.

And now… I wanted to giggle again at the woman that kept pulling her top lower trying to entice Abel, and every time she moved, the shirt rode back up, hiding her cleavage once more.

Therefore, when Abel looked over at me and lifted a brow as if to say, is she fucking serious, I didn’t stop the giggle that slipped past my lips.

Isla chose that moment to slide in beside me and asked, “What are we giggling about?”

I looked at her, winked, and then nodded my head at the woman, and just as we both looked at her, it happened again.

The two of us were a giggling mess to which Abel barked out from the other side of the bar, “It’s not fucking funny.”

That only made the two of us laugh even harder.

However, ten minutes later, neither one of us was laughing, not when I was trying to move around a guy that wouldn’t let me get passed him, and each time I moved, so did he.

And finally, I’d had enough when he moved to block me for the fifth time, “Look, I don’t dance with people I don’t know and that’s all we seem to be doing. Now, I have a ton of orders I need to place and pick up. So, do me a favor and get out of my way. Now.”

“You see, she told me you would say something like that, but she told me she saw you eying me and further told me that you liked to play hard to get.” And with that he moved even closer as I backed up and had the nerve to reach out and run his slimy fingers along the outside of my bicep.

I had two things to say to this man, “Who told you that?”

He looked around, and when he nodded, I looked at who he was referring to and gritted my teeth, and muttered, “Thanks. Now, before you lose your hand, it would be in your best interest to get your fucking hand off of me.”

He shook his head, “I see, you’re only trying to play even harder to get.”

I shook my head, “Fine, let’s do this the hard way.”

I was making my move to grab his hand and wrist and twist it like a video I saw on self-defense when suddenly, the man in front of me was no longer breathing in my same air space.

And that was because Abel, and his hand on the back of the man’s black polo shirt and was dragging him away from me, spinning him so his back was to the wall, his forearm was pressed into the man’s throat.

“If you ever show your face in this bar again, you won’t walk out of here breathing. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

The man’s face was slowly starting to turn purple, yet, no one moved, not until the man nodded.

Abel released the man’s throat stepped back, and moved until his back was to my front, his hand was on my hip and then he nodded, “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

And then did Abel turn, and I had to gasp at the fire I saw blazing in his eyes, saw that tick in his cheek, but not before one of his arms snapped out, wrapped around my waist, and pulled me close.