gasp from behind him didn’t do much to break the tension. “J.R.! What did you say?”
This entire situation was spinning out of control, and fast. Her laptop clutched to her chest, Minnie skirted around him and rushed to Thalia saying, “Are you okay?” When Thalia nodded, Minnie fixed him with a glare that could melt glass. “Apologize to our guest, J.R.”
Thalia’s lower lip quivered—not much, but enough to make him feel like a first-class heel. He should have stuck by his original plan of not talking, but he wasn’t backing down.
“I will do no such thing. This is my home, my land and trespassers will be shot.”
Minnie’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly J.R. recalled the time when, more than half-drunk, Hoss had confided that his mother once overpowered him as a teen to keep him from going out with some gang members. Right now, she looked like she was going to take him down and it was going to hurt.
“Fine. Fine.” He knew he was way overreacting, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was the boss around here, for God’s sake, and no one seemed to be able to remember that. “She can stay for dinner. I’ll leave. But when I get back, she better be gone—for good this time. Do I make myself clear?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed his coat and hat and made damn sure to slam the door behind him.
He’d almost kissed her.
What a mess.
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