Chapter Thirteen

L ivia both loved and hated Badlands' weekly country line dancing night. The thunder of cowboy boots on the dance floor vibrating in her chest always made her feel connected to the crowd.

The fights that broke out on those nights? Not so much.

When she heard the scrape of table legs on the floor, she was like a meerkat poking its head out of its dirt hole. By the time one of her customers hit the floor, knocking over the table and several chairs too, she was up and over the bar with her Louisville Slugger ready.

Being small was always a benefit in these cases because she was able to duck and dart through the crowded bar to reach the fight. With the baseball bat in hand, she barreled into the middle of the fray.

"Hey! Take it outside!" She shoved her way between two guys standing nose-to-nose.

"Stay outta this, woman," one growled without removing his glare from the man he wanted to knock out.

She waved the bat in front of his face. "This is my bar. My rules. Get out. "

The other guy picked that time to poke the beast. They started slinging insults and threats.

She was starting to get tense. And she never got tense. She got things done.

Where was Carver? She was shocked the man wasn't already here.

"You asshole!"

"C'mon, dickhead. Throw a punch at me. Then it's game on."

"Stop it! Get out of my bar!" She waved the bat again, but just then a fist glanced off her cheek.

She'd taken a punch or two in her time as a bar owner, but ouch .

Her head spun from the blow, but the roar filling her ears rocked her world.

A long arm hooked her around the chest, yanking her out of the path of more flying fists. Carver grabbed one man's arm, twisted and drove him to his knees. The man screamed in pain.

Carver shoved him onto his back and delivered a brutal kick to the balls before he whirled and rushed the other.

He hit the guy with a force like two semi-trucks colliding. But the customer was no match for Carver and flew up and over his shoulder. He crumpled to the floor, and several ladies in the crowd screamed.

One young woman in cutoff shorts, who must be the reason the men were fighting in the first place, marched up to the man and tossed her drink in his face. He sputtered.

Carver grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. Then he aimed another kick at the other's ass. "On your feet. Now. You're leaving."

The entire side of Livia's face throbbed with pain from that hit, but she gathered her wits and straightened to her full height. Somehow, she still managed to cling to the bat in her hand.

As Carver forced the amateur boxers out of Badlands, she followed with her weapon for good measure.

At the door, Carver shoved them both outside.

Livia started forward. "Don't come back either!"

Carver wrapped his fingers around her upper arm as if restraining her. At that moment, she realized she gripped the bat in both hands, swinging it back, prepared to finish this fight one way or another.

Fact was, she was mad. Madder than she normally would be.

Carver drew her closer and then gently guided her behind him. "Wait for me in the kitchen, Livia."

"I have too many customers to sit around."

"Just do it." His voice came out in a low, flat way that brought her attention to the fact that he was staring at the men struggling to their feet.

He intended to finish this fight in his own way—and she got the feeling that she was the reason behind his curled fists and that tik in his jaw.

"Wolfe."

"Listen to me, Livia."

Her insides wobbled at the grit in his voice. Seeing no way to stop him from kicking the shit out of these guys—and her cheek really hurt—she turned and went back inside.

As soon as she entered the kitchen, the young guy she had manning the grill looked up from preparing a sandwich.

His eyes widened. "What happened to you?"

She groaned and brushed her fingertips over her cheek. Great—she already felt it swelling. "Grab me a bag full of ice, please."

Her worker sprang into action.

Livia leaned the baseball bat in the corner and sank onto a crate of supplies. As the employee approached with a bag of ice, Carver blasted into the kitchen, sending the door slamming off the wall.

"We need a steak." He tossed the command at the worker.

Livia groaned. "He's already got ice for me."

Striding past the guy, Carver plucked the ice pack from his hand and rushed to Livia. He took one look at her face, and his brows pinched in concern.

He dropped to one knee in front of her and gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. When he turned her face to inspect the bruise, she bore his scrutiny.

He issued a low growl. "I'm going back out and killing those bastards."

"No, you're not. It's a small bruise. It will probably only be green tomorrow."

He gave her a look like he didn't buy her tale. Gently, he pressed the ice to her face.

She let out a small moan as the chill seeped into her bruise. "What did you do to those guys?"

He steeled his jaw.

"Carver. I still have to run a reputable establishment here. You can't go breaking people's necks for fighting over a woman."

"They hit my woman. And yes, I goddamn can."

Her stomach flipped at his forceful words, and she felt them in places that had no business feeling. He might claim to have feelings for her…but he'd probably leave like everyone else in her life. He'd leave as soon as he realized she didn't have any threat against her.

At that moment, Emory burst into the kitchen too. She spotted Livia with the ice on her cheek and drew up short.

"Oh god. Are you okay, Livia? The bartender said they thought you took a punch."

"I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

Emory bit down on her lip as if holding back her opinion.

Carver half rose from his kneeling position. "Do I need to take care of someone else?"

She shook her head. "Not unless you have skills as a plumber. The men's restroom is flooded."

Livia let out a louder moan and shot to her feet. She dropped the ice pack in the trash and started toward the restroom. Carver took off after her. When they reached the closed door, water trickled out from under it.

"Fantastic." She threw the door open and assessed the damage.

"Looks like the sink broke a line." Carver stood at her back.

"Can you try to shut off the main line to the sink? I'll call the plumber." She pulled out her phone. Unfortunately, with some older fixtures she had yet to replace in Badlands, she was used to this kind of thing and had the plumber on speed-dial.

After a quick conversation, she dropped the phone from her ear. "He can't be here until at least eight p.m."

Emory popped up at that moment. "But we're right in the middle of line dancing night, and we aren't going to survive one-dollar wings and five-dollar pitchers with only one bathroom."

Livia gave her a pointed look. "You know what we have to do."

"The unisex bathroom sign?"

"Yup."

"Everyone will be ticked. The guys can't use the bathroom because girls are doing their makeup and taking too long."

Livia nodded in agreement. "And the girls complain the guys miss the bowl. But they gotta live with it for a few hours. I'll grab the sign."

When she got behind the bar, she bent over to locate the sign and happened to glance up to see Carver on his phone. That small quirk of his lips was a dead giveaway that he was staring at her ass on his security app.

Livia had about enough for one evening. She flipped her middle finger right at the camera.

* * * * *

Carver flexed his fingers. He must be getting soft—his knuckles were on the stiff side from roughing up those assholes in the parking lot.

That one had hit Livia. Sure, it was by accident, but Carver made sure that next time the guy would look where he was aiming.

Carver's chest burned with a rage he could barely restrain even an hour after the incident. He kept glancing at the bar where Livia stood pouring drink after drink. She looked okay. He had to keep reminding himself that she was okay.

Her face would be bruised, but she was right that it wasn't terrible and would probably fade quickly. That didn't make him any less angry.

Somebody had dared to touch his woman. That wasn't ever happening again.

Now he made it his job to not only keep an eye on the entire bar, and who was coming and going, but on the plumber.

Carver had been around a lot of nervous men in his life. Some people might argue that he was the reason behind their nerves. But this guy either didn't know how to do his job or he had a perspiration problem.

His shirt was drenched along the spine and under each arm. Sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes so often that he had to keep wiping it away with paper towels he pulled out of the wall dispenser.

"Unisex bathroom?" a female voice came from behind him.

He gave her a nod. "We're under repair."

The woman shrugged and took her chances.

He turned back to the open door and the plumber was on his knees by the sink. He used a wrench on a connecting piece. Then a different wrench.

Carver stared at the guy. Did he actually know what he was doing?

"How long you been in the business?" he asked.

"Uh…" He mopped his forehead again. "Six or seven years now. I took over for my uncle after he retired."

Seven years and he still didn't know how to repair a leaky pipe any faster?

At that moment, he dropped his wrench into his toolbox and straightened. "That should do it. I'll just give Livia the invoice."

Sweat dripped into his eye and a bead slithered into the collar of his shirt. He picked up his toolbox, and avoiding Carver's stare, walked out of the restroom.

Carver stared hard at the area but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He hadn't left a weapon behind or planted a bomb under the sink. Maybe he'd read the guy wrong.

As soon as he stepped out of the restroom, his gaze tracked to Livia. She was speaking to the plumber. Then she led him into the office.

By the time Carver walked back there to make sure all was okay, Livia was handing the plumber a check.

With that transaction completed, he breathed a little easier, especially after the plumber left Badlands. This had been a long night already, and he couldn't wait to get Livia home.

When he did, he had big plans for her, starting with running her a nice hot bath so she could relax. Then he'd find that steak for her bruised face even if he had to drive to the Gracey Ranch and get one off one of their cows.

But the night seemed to go on and on. The thud of two dozen line dancers was giving him a headache, and the loud music was getting on his nerves. He wanted to stick two fingers in his mouth and issue a shrill whistle to gain everyone's attention—then toss them all out.

Livia bounced from one end of the bar to the other with her usual energy. He noticed how she allowed her hair to wave over her cheek instead of pushing it back like she always did.

A group of four at a table all stood up and started making their way to the exit. He watched them closely, aware that Livia was held responsible for drunk drivers.

He looked to one of the guys in the group. "Who's driving?"

"I am."

"You good enough to drive?"

"Yeah, I quit hours ago."

Satisfied, Carver nodded and let them leave.

Out of habit, he withdrew his phone from his pocket and pulled up the security app. Before he even looked, he started chuckling at what happened last time he checked the camera.

He admitted to fixing it a little on the low side, and he had a perfect view of Livia's sweet ass while she worked. When she flipped him off, he laughed out loud at the sass the woman gave him. No matter what she said, she was cute.

But her tough, capable side came out tonight when she got in the middle of those guys, baseball bat in hand.

He searched her face again, but she didn't appear to be in any pain. When he got her home, he'd treat her like the queen she was—then he'd strip her down and show her again with his tongue.

On every inch of her body.

His cock stirred behind his fly, and he had to focus on calming down. He needed patience, but telling his body that wasn't working when it came to Livia.

He hadn't been with her very long, but dammit, he was finished burying his true feelings for her. He was in love with her. That love would only grow over time.

Convincing her would take some persuasion, but he had a strong tongue and a big dick. He was confident in both.

After everyone cleared out and the last employee straggled out to their car, Carver locked the door.

Livia was humming to whatever tune was on the jukebox. Was he going to risk her shutting him down again if he attempted to dance with her?

Hell yeah, he was. He was a fucking SEAL. She didn't scare him.

He slowly crossed the room to the bar. She looked up from wiping down the surface. Whatever she saw on his face made her lips pop open.

"What are you doing?"

He hemmed her in with his body, making it so she couldn't escape.

She tipped her head up to meet his gaze. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping you could." He leaned close, mouth placed at the dainty shell of her ear. "I'm looking for a beautiful woman to share her bed tonight. Know anyone?"

Her breath hitched. She nodded.

He flicked his tongue over her earlobe, causing a shiver in her. "I am going to make sure my lover knows she's a goddess."

"H-how?"

He ran his hands up her waist to cup her breasts. When he swished his thumbs over her nipples, they hardened at his touch. A soft moan escaped her. She leaned into him, lips tipped up.

He took her mouth in a slow kiss, teasing her with his tongue and he tweaked her nipples into sharper points. Her moans grew louder and he eased one hand between her thighs to cup her pussy.

She rocked. Fingers working down the front of his body to mold the denim of his jeans to his stiff cock.

He swirled his tongue through her mouth.

"I'm going to run my tongue over her pussy over and over again. Until she arches and screams my name. Then I'm going to grab her by the hips and make sure she knows just how perfectly I fit inside her tight heat. "

"Carver." Her knees sagged. Her breath heaved.

He planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Finish up."

Her eyes gleamed at him with more than lust. "I'll hurry."