Page 19 of Kane
When they made it to the front of the line, Scott presented the winning tickets and shrugged uncomfortably. “Sorry, we’re in the nosebleed section.”
“Are you kidding? Being here at all is a trip.” The energy from so many people was like a live-wire. His senses were on overdrive, from the smell of popcorn and grilled burgers to the din of the crowd. He’d never experienced anything like it.
“I’ve got a couple of bucks on me. You want a Coke?” Scott made the cash working a side job loading boxes at a warehouse. His brother had the kind of muscle mass he never expected to achieve.
It didn’t bother him, though. If he managed to finish his accounting courses at night school, he wouldn’t need bulk, only brains. He’d be the first one in the family to finish college. Hell, he was already the first to get his high school diploma.
He flashed Scott a thumbs-up, still soaking in the sights and sounds of the stadium.
“I thought you were supposed to be a good time, but all I’m seeing right now is a stuck-up bitch.” One man’s voice rose above the cacophony of sound.
He scanned for the owner of the disembodied voice.
“The only reason I agreed to come to this godforsaken pit is for your father’s box seats. The least you can do is make it worth my while.” There he was. The snobby shit couldn’t have been more than five-foot-nine. He had gelled-back blond hair and a white sweater vest over a short-sleeved button down. The guy stood only a few inches taller than the pretty redhead he was berating, but he was in her space. His face inches from hers.
The girl’s cheeks flushed pink, but she lifted her chin a fraction higher with every venomous word the man spat in her direction.
Without a second’s hesitation, he shouldered his way between them. He was taller and broader than the other man, but more importantly, he was harder, used to the kind of rough life Mr. Country Club had probably only seen on TV. “You got a problem, buddy?”
The asshole’s eyes widened, and he knew instantly no one had ever called the guy on his bullshit in his life.
A haughty look replaced the shock. “Do I know you?” As if he were the dirt on the bottom of the man’s shoe.
Ha. If a look was all it took to rattle him, he would never leave the house. “If you don’t adjust the way you’re talking to the lady, you’re about to know me better than you ever wanted to.”
He had very little patience for guys who refused to regard women with respect. His dad had always treated his mother like yesterday’s garbage, and though he learned the hard way there was nothing he could do about their relationship, it didn’t stop him from speaking up now. An unexpected wave of protectiveness rose toward the woman behind him.
The guy spoke over his shoulder to her. “Oh, this is rich. Are you slumming it, Amanda? Don’t want to give it up to me because you’re too busy getting it from Mr. Thrift Store Reject over here.” He turned his cruel gaze to Kane. “Tell me, Reject, does she spit or does she swallow?”
He didn’t hesitate. He balled his fist and slammed it into the asshole’s still-flapping jaw. It knocked the guy flat on his ass.
The woman stepped forward and curled her arm around his, startling him with her touch, then making him puff up in pride. “Don’t ever call me again, Chip. And if I find out you’re spreading rumors, trying to ruin my reputation, I will crush you. You think you’ve got clout in this town? You think you can take on a Griffin? I learned from the best. My father eats toads like you for breakfast.”
Stepping deftly around the still-blustering Chip, she led Kane down the aisle. She didn’t stop moving until they got to the reserved seating. “You didn’t have to do that…step in, I mean.”
He rubbed her hand, which was still locked around his bicep. Her skin was soft and smooth. Delicate. His protective instincts swelled. “Yes, I did. That guy had no right to talk to you like he did. You deserve better.”
She shook her head, her red hair swishing across her shoulders. “You don’t even know me.”
“Everywoman deserves better than the way he treated you.” It came out a little more forcefully than he intended. “Still, I’m sorry I kind of lost it. I probably could have found a better way to handle the situation.” He cleared his throat. “My name’s Kane, by the way.”
Her smile was like sunshine on his skin. “I’m Amanda, and it appears I’m going to be watching this game alone. Unless…you’d like to join me?”
Scott’s face flashed for a moment in Kane’s head, but if anyone would encourage him to accept an invitation from a beautiful woman, his brother would. He fired off a quick text of apology, then gave her his most charming smile. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” She raised a perfectly arched brow. “Well, Kane, let’s make it one you never forget.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Amanda
As she stepped back onto the construction site, Amanda wondered what her stepfather would think of the way she was running things. A love of construction prompted Charlie to start his company, and his hope for a legacy inspired him to give it his name. He’d told Amanda dozens of times over the years how satisfying it was to watch a crew build something up from nothing. He passed the same joy onto his son. Mike liked to drop in on builds just to see the parts come together in a whole.
She was a businesswoman. And while she liked construction as well as any other thing, creating the strategy behind the company’s success really got her blood pumping. Though Charlie would have rolled over in his grave if he knew, the exquisite home coalescing around her barely even caught her eye as she searched out the foreman in the backyard.
Of course, her indifference could have something to do with having her first real conversation with Kane in more than a dozen years.
Oh, she’d caught a glimpse of him a few times now and then. With him working for the company, it had been inevitable. She still couldn’t get over the changes in him, though. The long hair, the beard, and the scar cutting across his cheek. He’d grown bigger, too, bulkier, which made sense when she factored in the manual labor he did every day. From the outside, he’d become the very thing he swore he’d never be: a biker in his father’s club.