“Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.” She nuzzles against my jaw. “Good thing you’re here to protect me, Big Man.”

I guide her to the corner, keeping a possessive hand on her back and glaring daggers at anyone who looks at her, which is everyone with a dick and a few without.

“What are you drinking?” she asks.

I sink down onto my bar stool and hold up my beer. She snatches it out of my hand and takes a sip.

“Mmmm. Yummy.” She licks her lips and I’m mesmerized. Those lips are pure torture. They hitch up on one side while I stare at them and I know she’s laughing at me. “Thanks.”

This crazy woman stole my beer. I shake my head and flag down the bartender for two more.

“This place is cute. I’ve never been here before,” she chirps, taking another sip from the pilfered beverage.

Cute? It’s a shithole. She leans back, her elbows resting against the bar. The neon light above her casts a soft blue glow across her face and makes those mischievous eyes of hers shimmer. My eyebrows knit together and I stare at her. She’s happy. In a dive bar. Surrounded by drunks and degenerates. Who is this woman?

Her jaw drops and she starts bouncing when she sees the stage. “Is this a karaoke bar?” she asks.

I nod. “Open mic night.” I point to the poster on the far wall, right above a table with a sign-up sheet.

She snaps her head to me and slides her slim fingers up my forearm. Her grip is firm but her hand is soft, delicate. Her short fingernails are painted a warm orange that pops against the dark ink of my sleeve tattoo.

“We have to sign up!” she says on an excited gasp.

“No.” My muscles tense under her touch.

She glides her hand down my forearm before she pushes off the bar and turns to face me. “Yes.”

I clench and unclench my fist, working the tension out. Raising my beer to my lips, I give her a quick once-over. “No.”

She steps closer and my knees brush against her thighs. She grabs my shoulders and squeezes hard. “Yes,” she declares.

I lift my hand from my thigh and navigate the small space between us, resisting the temptation to brush against her budding nipples. I slide my hand behind her neck and pull her to me. I lean forward to close the space between us.

Using a dead-serious tone, I grumble into her ear, “Not. Fuckin’. Happening.”

I start leaning back, but she slides her hands from my shoulders to either side of my face and holds me right in front of her. She takes a minute, tilting her head to the side and examining me. I fight the urge to squirm away. She brushes a stray hair off my forehead and nods.

“Trust me, Big Man. This is so happening.” She leans in and kisses me on the tip of my nose. Her smile is blindingly bright when she pulls away. She bounds off, shouting over her shoulder, “I’m signing up!”