Before Brogan turned away, though, he reached into his pocket, pulled two hundreds free, and tossed them to the t
able.
“I can pay for the meal.” Chatham chuckled.
“Take the money and count yourself lucky,” Brogan suggested, his tone dark and forbidding. “My ancestors castrated poachers. With great satisfaction.”
Chatham lifted a brow as the diners around them snickered in amusement.
Gripping her upper arm, Brogan led her unhurriedly through the restaurant and out the front door as outrage rushed through her.
“That was completely uncalled-for, Brogan.” She turned to face him as he stepped into the driver’s seat after helping her into the truck. Glaring up at the brooding anger burning in his gaze, she ignored the butterfly excitement in her stomach.
“You had absolutely no right whatsoever to barge in on my date in such a way.”
“A date, was it?” Silky, dangerous, his voice lowered and his expression tightened savagely as he started the truck. “I’d change the description of that little outing if I were you, Eve. Because you knew better than to date until this relationship thing of ours has been settled, one way or the other.”
“That’s what you think,” she snapped back at him, so offended by his attitude she could barely tolerate it. “We have no relationship, remember? I told you, I can’t do this.”
It was killing her—the need for his touch, for his kiss. It raged inside her, hotter even than the anger now coursing inside her. “Because of you my brother is probably getting calls from everyone in that restaurant about now. He’s going to end up at my door again—God forbid, while you’re in my bed. And before the night is over I’m going to feel like the worst sister to live, because I find it completely impossible to tell you no.”
She was only barely aware of the tightening of Brogan’s knuckles on the steering wheel, as though he were fighting desperately to keep his hands off her.
“You tell me no all the damned time,” he argued, his tone rasping with irritation. “Your damned brother can just be proud as hell of you, can’t he, Eve?”
“Not if he shows up and you’re in my bed.” Turning to face forward again, her arms crossing over her breasts, she glared into the evening traffic.
Until the chain swinging on the rearview mirror drew her gaze. She recognized the small gold cross Timothy Cranston had told her belonged to his daughter. She had been wearing it the day a bomb had killed her and her mother.
“Timothy let you use his truck?” she questioned in disbelief. “He doesn’t even like you.”
“I stole it,” he informed her with such a look of triumph she was momentarily taken aback. “I knew where he kept the spare key and I just took it.”
Pure disbelief filled her as she shook her head and returned her gaze forward. She had to grit her teeth to keep herself from completely losing her temper. That lasted all of the time it took him to pass the turnoff that led to the inn.
“Where are you going? You just missed the turn to the house,” she reminded him as he continued through town.
“I borrowed a place for the night.” He shocked her with the statement. “I don’t intend to have Dawg Mackay disturb me again while we’re together, Eve. I may end up forgetting he’s your brother.”
“The only friend you have in this county who would have something to loan is Billy Ray, and all he has is that ragged houseboat of his. You think Dawg won’t know the minute we pull into the marina and go onto that alley cat’s boat? Are you trying to rub his nose in the fact that I can’t stay away from you?”
Where had his mind gone? There wasn’t a chance in hell that she was getting on a houseboat with him. Especially Billy Ray Chauncey’s. The man was a dog when it came to women.
“For God’s sake, give me a little credit here, Eve.” The look he shot her was rife with simmering lust and banked frustration. “Do you really think I’m going to give Dawg Mackay the opportunity to try to beat the shit out of me?”
“Try?” She looked back at him doubtfully, determined to make him as crazy as he made her.
She was pushing him, and she knew she was, but this was the first time she had seen so much emotion in him. He wasn’t as controlled as he normally was, and the knowledge of that had adrenaline crashing through her system.
She could get used to this. The excitement was addictive.
Brogan snorted. “Don’t fool yourself, sweet pea. The Mackay cousins are hitting their forties. They’re not exactly as spry as they used to be.”
Eve almost laughed. For a second—well, maybe a millisecond—she had the insane urge to share with him the fact that the cousins’ wives often made that claim themselves. But it was only after the cousins proved otherwise.
“Maybe your confidence is just enough to ensure that he does kick your ass,” she suggested. “Be careful there, Brogan; you could be a little overconfident.”
“That’s possible.” Surprising her with the agreement as he cast her a hard, mocking look, he continued. “Personally, I’d just as soon not find out, though, so I’ve made certain he’ll be completely unaware of our location.”