Home > Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(9)

Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(9)
Author: Abbi Glines

“Drink up,” Jace said, smiling. The blonde on his arm looked familiar, but Rosemary Beach wasn’t a big place. I’d probably been with her at some time myself.

“Hey, Rush,” the girl said with a flirty smile, and I realized I did know her. Couldn’t remember her name, though.

I nodded and threw back the tequila. I wasn’t much for shots, but if I was going to have to endure this place, I needed to have a few shots of something.

“You lost?” Grant asked with a chuckle as he walked up beside me.

I smirked. “Probably,” I replied. “Are you?”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “No. I’m here because of Nan.”

Frowning, I followed his gaze and saw Nan stumbling around and laughing loudly while some guy I didn’t know held on to her barely clothed body. “What the fuck?” I had started to move around him when he grabbed my arm.

“Don’t. She likes him. They’re dating. But she’s been drinking a little too heavily lately. Thought I’d come check on her, and this is what I found. Just stand back and watch. If either of us does something too soon, she’ll leave with the dick, and we’ll both be dealing with more drama than we want.”

He was right. Nan was an adult. I wasn’t her daddy, and I needed to let her make her own mistakes. Clearing her path was exhausting, and it wasn’t helping her. “You ask around about him?” I said.

Grant put a beer in my hand. “Let’s go sit and wait. I think she’s fine. He’s Charles Kellar, Old Morrison’s grandson. Goes to Harvard. Here visiting his grandparents this week.”

At least he was her age. I took a drink of the beer and watched as Nan pulled the guy out to the dance floor and kicked off her spiked heels. At least she wouldn’t break her damn ankle.

“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 fuck 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 fuck 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 fuck,” 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 fucker’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 fuck,” 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 fuck away from her. I like your grandparents, but I don’t give a fuck who they are. Don’t fuck 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 fucking 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.

I fought the urge to remain and listen to just how far Blaire would go with her questioning. I fucking liked it. She gave a shit, and I liked it. Damn, this was bad.

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