Allie met her gaze. “Gentleman,” she mouthed in approval.
Meg swallowed a groan.
“I’ll be waiting,” Ken said as she walked away.
“Oh, please don’t be,” she said to herself, making her way to the bathroom at the far back of the restaurant.
She spent a long time in the restroom, checking her phone, swiping some gloss on her dry lips, and washing her hands, twice, in her effort to stall returning to the table.
When she did, she paused by Lizzy’s chair and whispered in her friend’s ear, “I’m going to bail. I’m not up to this. I’m really sorry. Will you be okay driving?”
“Of course. I barely had a sip. But I can leave and take you home.”
She shook her head. “No need. You seem to be hitting it off with Mark. I can get Uber,” she said.
“I’d be happy to drive you,” Ken said.
She hadn’t realized he’d left his seat and had overheard them.
“No, really. Stay and have fun. I’m just not feeling too well.” Which was a lie, but it was nicer than Go away, I’m not interested.
Which was ironic since, not too long ago, Meg would have been all too willing to see where things went with a guy who showed her any interest at all. Maybe the baby really was changing her, making her more self-reliant and aware as well as giving her better taste in men.
“Then you really shouldn’t go home alone,” Ken said, grasping her forearm.
Oh no he didn’t. She pinned him with an annoyed glare. “Let. Go.” And what was it about her that attracted assholes anyway? she asked herself as she tried to extricate herself without resorting to insults or calling management.
Lizzy jumped up from her seat just as the jerk released her arm and a familiar voice reverberated in her ear.
“Touch her again and you’ll answer to me.”
Scott Dare arrived at Mel’s and found his brother Tyler waiting for him at the bar. He and Tyler often hung out at Mel’s on Scott’s rare nights off duty. He was a cop, and after disobeying a direct order by going into a situation without backup, he was currently enjoying administrative leave. He was chafing under the rules and no longer finding the same satisfaction in the job as he once had. Meeting with his brother was the highlight of his week so far.
Scott tipped his beer back and took a long pull.
“So seriously, what’s up your ass other than boredom?” Tyler asked.
“Boredom isn’t enough?” Scott scanned the room, his gaze landing on a table of women he hadn’t noticed before that included one very familiar face. His boredom instantly vanished.
Any time he saw Meg Thompson, every part of him took notice, and tonight was no exception. He didn’t know what it was about her. Her brown hair was just that. Brown silk that hung just below her shoulders, but there were highlights that turned some parts a sexy reddish-blonde under the right light. Brown eyes the color of his morning coffee framed by thick lashes that too often showed a vulnerability she tried hard to hide. It was that forced strength that got to him. She was alone, dealing with a difficult situation that would break most women.
But she wasn’t like any other woman he’d met. And completely unlike Scott’s ex-wife.
“Do you know them?” Tyler tipped his head toward the table of women.
“I know the brunette.” Scott rose . . . only to find a blond guy had beat him to it. The man leaned closer to Meg, and Scott stiffened, forcing himself to sit down and watch.
“Who is she?” his brother asked.
“She’s Dylan’s friend, Meg Thompson.”
“Aah. Liv told me about her. She thought Meg would be a problem when she got involved with Dylan, but they ended up being friends.”
Scott nodded. “That’s her.”
“And I’m guessing you two have history since you can’t take your eyes off of her?” Tyler nudged him in the side.
“Yes. No. Shit,” he muttered, wondering how to explain his reaction to Meg.
From the minute Scott had seen her, looking small and defenseless in a hospital bed after nearly losing her baby thanks to her angry ex-boyfriend, Scott had been invested. Not even her pregnancy had put him off. Which, all things considered, should scare the shit out of him. Since Leah, he didn’t get seriously involved.
He’d questioned Meg, taken her statement, and guided her through the restraining-order process. And he’d been dumb enough to try to help. To be there for her afterward, but she wasn’t interested. Not in a helping hand.
Not in him.
He’d been forced to see her at occasional get-togethers at Olivia and Dylan’s over the last month, had run into her in the supermarket. He’d offered to take her to dinner, to be her friend. Despite the undeniable chemistry between them, she’d declined.
Two other men joined the first, and soon the women at Meg’s table were paired off. And Scott was pissed. A low growl escaped his throat.
“Easy, bro.” Instead of giving him a hard time, Tyler placed a hand on his shoulder.
Scott blew out a long breath. Logically, he knew he didn’t have a say in what Meg did. Or with whom.
He ordered a Patrón. Neat. And settled in to do what he did best. Keep an eye on her from a distance. To his relief, as time passed, she didn’t look at all interested in the guy. Her body language screamed don’t touch, and the asshole didn’t appear to be listening.
“I’m going to bash his head in if this keeps up,” Scott muttered.
Tyler raised an eyebrow. “First Ian, now you. Are you really going to leave me as the only single Dare guy in the family?”
“She’s made it clear she’s not interested in me, and besides, marriage? Been there, have the divorce papers to show for it. Not happening again,” Scott reminded his brother. At twenty-nine, he was finished with that stupid dream. Leah had screwed with his head on so many
