Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(12)

“She’s not taking the Blaire thing well, is she?” Grant asked.

I shrugged. I wanted not to give a shit that Nan was upset. She needed to grow the f**k up and realize she wasn’t the only person on the planet. But I couldn’t not care. “No. But she needs to accept it. It’s not like I’m sleeping with Blaire. I’m just giving her a place to stay,” I replied.

“But you wanna sleep with her,” Grant said, grinning.

“Shut up,” I snarled, and shot him a warning glance.

“Damn, Rush, I want to sleep with her. No, I take that back. I want to f**k her gorgeous brains out. She’s—”

I was out of my seat and in his face so fast I surprised myself. “Don’t!” I yelled. I took a deep breath to get control of the sudden anger boiling inside me. “Stay away from her. Do. You. Understand. Me.”

Grant didn’t shrink back or nod in fear of pissing me off. Instead, my brother chuckled. “Holy f**k,” he muttered, and shook his head. “She’s gotten to you.”

That had me backing up and shaking my head. He didn’t know what he was talking about. I just didn’t like someone helpless and sweet being talked about like that.

“Rush, I didn’t think you’d come t’night,” Nan slurred as she sauntered up to our table and grabbed the empty stool in front of her to steady herself. “You’ve met Charles? Or no? I can’t remember,” she said, and pulled herself up to sit on the stool.

“No, I haven’t,” I replied, glad for the interruption, even if it was a drunk Nan.

“Charles Kellar,” the guy said, holding out his hand. “Are you Rush . . . Finlay?” he asked, his eyes going a little wide as he said my last name with an almost reverent tone. He was a fan of my father’s. I knew that look.

I nodded and took a drink of my beer while ignoring his hand. I wasn’t shaking the f**ker’s hand. I knew his kind. He’d found out Nan’s connection to Slacker Demon and managed to squeeze his way into her good graces. Stupid shit didn’t realize he was one of many. I’d been down this road before. A sober Nan would have spotted this bullshit right away.

“He’s a big fan of Dean’s,” Nan said, rolling her eyes and waving her hand toward Foster. “I already know. He’s using me to meet you, and I’m using him because he’s a really good f**k,” she said way too loudly.

Grant was out of his seat and moving before I could say anything. “I got her,” he told me. I nodded in his direction before looking back at Foster. Nan squealed and fussed at Grant, but he used his charming ways to soothe her as he moved her toward the exit.

“I don’t take well to douchebags using my sister. You do yourself a favor and stay the f**k away from her. I like your grandparents, but I don’t give a f**k who they are. Don’t f**k with my family. Understood?” I kept my tone low and even, as Foster’s eyes went wide and he nodded. Slamming down my beer, I stood up and followed the same route Grant had taken with Nan earlier.

Grant’s truck was gone when I finally made it to the parking lot. He was taking Nan home. I didn’t have to call him to check on that. I headed for my car and decided it was safe to go home now. Blaire should be in bed. I wouldn’t have to see her.

The relief I felt at seeing her beat-up truck safely parked in the driveway was something I wasn’t in the mood to admit right then. Yes, I was getting obsessive over her safety, but that was because I was a f**king protector. My mother had forced that role on me at a young age, and it was in my damn blood now. I couldn’t help it. Nothing more.

If we were lucky, Blaire would be asleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Two days had passed since I’d seen Blaire. Avoiding her hadn’t been easy. Fighting the urge to come downstairs and see her every morning was hard. But that wasn’t why I was breaking my rule today. At least that was what I was telling myself.

Grant had shown up drunk with one of his regular girls. I didn’t know if they would be up early, but I didn’t want Blaire encountering them in the kitchen. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea if the girl was there alone. She’d already made her feelings about my sex life very clear. I should have let her think this was another one of my hookups . . . but I was heading downstairs anyway. Unable to stop myself.

“Did you just come out of the pantry?” the girl, whose name I couldn’t remember, was asking Blaire in a confused tone. I took longer strides, needing to get into that damn kitchen and shut the girl up. Blaire didn’t have to answer to her.

“Yes. Did you just come out of Rush’s bed?” Blaire asked. Her soft voice curled around the words, making the question seem innocent. I slowed down, surprised to detect a territorial undertone.

“No. Not that I wouldn’t get into his bed if he’d let me, but don’t tell Grant that. Never mind. He probably already knows,” the girl said.

I stopped at the doorway and searched the kitchen for Blaire. She was standing on the other side of the island. The girl was between us, hindering my view.

“So you just got out of Grant’s bed?” Blaire asked. I bit back a smile. The confusion in her voice sounded awfully like relief to me.

“Yep. Or at least, his old bed.”

“His old bed?” Blaire asked.