What he wasn’t prepared for was the answer the woman gave him.
“You think you are.” Her arm slithered across the table, long talon-like nails grazing his skin. “But you’re not. She’s not enough for you, baby.” Her saccharine voice explained, “She’s good to make you dinner and wash your laundry, but I can make you happier in the bedroom. I can rock. Your. World.” Suzette’s tongue moved across her shellacked lips in a way that turned Danny’s stomach instead of turning him on, as he assumed was her intent.
What the fuck? Chick is clearly a whack job. She isn’t going to quit; I’m firing her ass. Anger boiled in his veins as Danny reminded himself to stay calm. Eyes narrowed in disgust, Danny popped up from his chair as Suzette sat back in hers, undressing him with her hooded gaze.
“Max?” Danny growled.
The new hire looked up from behind the bar.
“Over here, now.” Regulating his breath was a challenge as Danny mentally shuffled through his words, pulling forth the ones that wouldn’t get him slapped with a sexual harassment lawsuit.
“Boss?” While Max DeLucca had only been employed for two weeks, he’d been a lunch regular for over a month. The kid showed more respect and loyalty than all of the hires Danny and Julie had taken on in the four years since the bar opened. He stood by Danny’s side, his hulking size a threat to anyone, regardless of his gentle demeanor.
“I need a witness, DeLucca. You’re here, so you’re it.” Danny’s words were aimed at Max, but his stare never left the aloof and clearly oblivious Suzette.
“Go, sir.”
“Suzette, your presence is no longer needed or wanted here at Danny’s on Main. You’re fired.”
“Fired? Stop it, baby,” Suzette purred as she stood and attempted to stalk toward Danny.
“Ahh, okay.” Danny grinned, arms folded over his broad chest. “So you don’t do nice.”
Suzette beamed. “No, I love it rough, Danny. I told you that.”
Purposely obtuse? Christ, was this really happening? Judging by the look on Max’s face, it certainly was.
“Rough it is,” Danny conceded. “Little girl, my wife is more woman than you will ever be, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who has the honor of being with her. You think it’s okay to screw with the person who writes your paychecks? You think that person is me? Guess what—you’re wrong on both accounts. You have absolutely nothing to offer us because pretty faces are a dime a dozen, and your bartending skills are subpar. So get your shit and get gone.”
Had her face not made him physically ill, Danny would have enjoyed her round eyes and slacked-jaw look as Max escorted her to the door. Instead, Danny went to the office and apologized to his wife the best way he knew how—simple words followed by a mind-bending orgasm.
###
IT WASN’T MORE than a couple of weeks later when Danny found himself in a similar situation, although the target was different and Danny’s patience was nonexistent. Max was the ideal employee. He worked his ass off, took on extra hours, and even though he was dealing with some sort of marital issues at home, he never brought them behind the bar. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him, and Danny wanted to clone him. So he did what he thought was the next best thing—he hired Wayne.
Wayne came with an impressive resume, a handsome face, and unfortunately roaming eyes and Velcrohands. Danny worked a few shifts with Wayne and found him to be slightly annoying, but the ladies liked him, so Danny worked the schedule so the two would intersect more than spend a great deal of time together. Julie didn’t have much to say about the new bartender, which was abnormal but not alarming.
“Julie, cupcake, no need for you to climb that step stool when you got a man right here. I’ll get that bottle down for you.”
Danny’s ears perked as Wayne’s words traveled from the bar to the kitchen, where he and Max were doing inventory.
“What the…?” Hands balled into fists, Danny’s eyes met Max’s.
“Look, boss, the guy’s a flirt. I’ve heard him call other dudes ‘babe,’” Max reported. “Let it go, and let’s just get this done.”
Accepting Max’s advice, Danny exhaled, flexed his hands, and counted forks.
“Mmm, Julie, how’m I supposed to concentrate on cleaning when every time you bend over, I get a perfect view of your sweet ass.”
A red haze slid over Danny’s vision as the fork in his hand bent in half.
“I’ll come out with you,” Max snarled. “He needs to be gone, Danny, not dead. Do you hear me? You can’t protect your woman from jail.”
Max’s words penetrated just in time to save Wayne’s life.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Danny roared as he barreled out of the kitchen and behind the bar. He grabbed the bottle of Maker’s Mark from Wayne’s hand and threw it to the floor. Sounds of broken glass crunching beneath his feet were lost behind the rage that fueled his movements.
Wayne’s hands were held up in a surrendering pose. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying—”
“You weren’t flirting with my wife? You weren’t staring at her ass?” Danny left no time for answers as he advanced on Wayne, leaving the man with no choice but to retreat. “Listen here, you little fucker, the only reason you’re gonna walk out of this bar in one piece is because I care more about that woman you were disrespecting than I do ‘bout disabling you. Get the fuck out of my sight. Catch your eyes on my woman even once as you leave, I’ll tear them out of your skull. Got it?”
Wayne nodded, understanding clear on his pasty face as he grabbed his backpack from under the bar and scooted past Danny’s large frame. “Max, help me out here…”
“Rats and thieves,” Max rumbled, his arms crossed. “Only rats and thieves steal what belongs to someone else. Rats do it for survival…you got no excuse.”
“Five, four, three—I get to one, and you’ll be limping out of here,” Danny snapped.
Wayne ran. The empty bar became silent.
“Thank you, Max, for having my back again,” Danny said.
“Not a problem, boss.” Max shrugged. “Let’s just say I have some experience when it comes to cheating. I’m not a fan.”
Receiving the message Max not-so-subtly put out, Danny shook the younger man’s hand, “Not quite sure what I’d do without you, boy.” Christ, sounded a bit like Chester just now.
“Happy to be here, sir.”
Julie cleared her throat. “Hate to interrupt all this male bonding, but I’m standing right here in the mess that you created, Mr. Marcus, and I’m waiting for an explanation.”
Judging by the playful look on his wife’s face, no explanation was needed. She totally understood Danny’s reaction, but she was waiting for his admission.
“Jules—”
“I could have handled it, Danny. You should have trusted me to do so, the same way I trusted you.”
“I—”
“I’m gonna take my lunch break,” Max broke in. “I’ll be back in a half hour.”
The mammoth man left the bar, but Julie’s gaze never left Danny’s.
“That guy was a douche bag, Jules,” Danny said. “The way he flirted with you, checked you out…for the love of Christ, was that the first time that shit went down?” Even thinking it may have happened before had his blood pressure beginning to rise.
“Does it matter?”
Julie’s question left him speechless.
“Seriously, Dan, the guy has only worked here for seven shifts. Does it matter if he’d flirted with me before today?”
He knew the correct answer to her question, but damn it, hearing that son of a bitch hit on his wife without cause or care to the fact that she was married pissed him off. “Yes, it matters, okay? It matters. You’re mine. That punk had no right—”
“‘You realize that you’re it for me, right?’” Meaning danced through Julie’s eyes as she repeated the words he’d spoken weeks earlier when she’d come to him with her concerns about Suzette. “‘I don’t care who flirts with me. I only want you.’ That’s what you told me and I believed you, but it doesn’t feel reassuring when you watch someone trying to take away the person who holds your very existence in their hands, does it?”