Chapter Three

They shook their heads and Dean got to his feet. The blonde obviously thought he was coming over to her, because her eyes lit up as he headed towards her. When he passed her and kept on walking, he heard her make a loud sound in her throat and mutter something under her breath.

Ignoring her completely, he walked farther down the length of the bar and leaned on the counter. It was damn hard to get service in this place if you didn’t have boobs hanging out, but the guys tending bar did know him a bit. One caught Dean’s eye and he nodded and held up one finger. The guy nodded back and grabbed a bottle of beer. Dean took it and sighed and stared around again, wondering if maybe he should just get shit-faced and go back to the blonde. He was sure she’d forgive him if he played nice.

“No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but no thanks.”

The voice was low-pitched and sweet and it came from right next to him. Dean glanced to his left and saw a dark-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and black skirt standing there talking to some guy. He was clearly drunk and leaning in pretty close to her.

“Come on, why not?” the guy slurred. “One drink never killed anyone, did it?”

“Thank you,” the woman said again. “But I have a drink.”

“And I’m offering you one more.”

“No, really –”

“Tight-assed bitch,” the man said, his voice rising. “I’m not fucking good enough to have a drink with, is that it?”

Startled, the woman backed up right into Dean, spilling his beer. She turned.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry…”

“Not your fault,” Dean said.

“Hey, bitch.” The man grabbed the woman’s upper arm and jerked her around roughly. “Don’t you fucking turn your back on me!”

That was just about damn enough, Dean decided. He stepped around the woman and nailed the guy with a glare. The drunk dropped the woman’s arm right away and blinked at Dean’s ferocious scowl.

“I do believe that the lady said no, thank you,” Dean said in a low, controlled voice. “Take the rejection like a man and move on. Lots of women in here would love a free drink and anything else you may be offering. You don’t need to bother with one who’s not all that keen, huh?”

The idiot opened his mouth to protest, but then he seemed to reconsider. His eyes focused a bit and he saw Dean’s height and width, took in the tattoos on his muscular arms. Dean knew his eyes were glittering bright, his face set and hard. He had seen his friends' faces change quick as a knife-flick when confronted by even the most minor of annoyances in the real world, and in the blink of an eye, they looked like the killers they were. It about scared people to death.

The man’s eyes widened as he got the full measure of Dean and he backed up a bit. “Sure thing, man. She’s all yours… but the best of luck. This one’s not fucking worth it.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Dean said. “Now get on with your night.”

The drunk stumbled away with barely a backwards glance and Dean turned his attention to the woman. She hadn’t said a word the whole time.

Emma had watched the exchange in shock. She rubbed her upper arm where the guy had grabbed her, and stared at the man who had stepped in from out of nowhere.

“Ummm,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” the man said. “You OK?” He gestured at her arm. “Did he hurt you?”

“Oh. Oh, no. Surprised me more than anything.”