Chapter Eight

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David had a reputation in that neighborhood and in his bar. Stay on his good side and there wouldn't be any problems. Cross him and you'd wish you hadn't. It was simple and it worked damn well for him. 

Yet on Hannah's first night, it became apparent to everyone around him that he wasn't as tough on the inside as he appeared. He needed his bastard reputation at work to keep his employees in line and to let customers know that fights wouldn't be happening. But when Hannah was there, things didn't work like that. 

"You're doin' great, darlin'. Don't worry about it."

Whenever he said something sweet to her, Hannah would smile nervously and blush and damn if he didn't enjoy it every time. This last week had done a number on him and David still didn't know how he felt about that. He hadn't had someone so close to his life in years and thought he was making a big mistake when he offered. He liked his privacy. He liked to eat his meals in peace. He liked having no one around for miles. But one beautiful and slightly damaged woman had flipped all that upside down and changed his mind about his own life. 

Hannah turned from the sink and leaned her body against the stainless steel countertops, showing him she was anywhere from damp to soaking wet from head to toe with stains all over her clothing. 

"Oh yeah? You rea—lly think so, huh?" She looked down at her body before noticing food dangling from a loose strand of her hair and picked it out, flicking it somewhere in the room. 

It was true that he'd been a bit overindulgent with his reassurance. She'd broken a bus tub full of dishes when she decided to carry them rather than having one of the servers do it. She'd spilled soapy water all over the floor of the dining area. When a small fight broke out between a regular and a drunk new guy and David had to jump in to break it up, she almost had a nervous break down and he didn't know where his attention would be needed most. 

Truth was she'd crashed and burned that night. That didn't make David want her here any less, however. Not only did Hannah need something to fill her time, but he enjoyed her spending her time where he could keep an eye on her. Whether to protect her from the real world or to just look at her, David wasn't sure. 

"Can't do much with the pants, but I got some shirts upstairs we could make work." She still had a few hours in her shift before he could take her home and he didn't want her stuck in cold, wet clothing the whole time. "Come on."

Hannah let out a heavy breath and blew the loose strand away from her face, then followed him out, sliding and losing her balance on the wet floor. David caught her before she took a nose dive and held her firmly until they hit dry land.

"Where you two going?" Meggie asked from behind the bar. 

Hannah turned to face her and Meggie burst into laughter. 

"I swear, I'm laughing with you."

Though she cracked a smile, that was about it. 

David led her up the stairs and grabbed a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, going straight into the bedroom to see what the options were in the dresser. The Rolling Stones shirt would probably the closest fit. It was from his college days, before the military changed his body. He couldn't bring himself to toss it and just hoped some drunk crashing there for the night would run off with it. David only kept his reject clothes there. 

After grabbing the shirt, David went back into the living room, tossed it to her, then turned around so she could change. 

After a full solid minute of silence, followed by grunt and whimpers, David began to wonder what the hell was going on. "Everything okay?"

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