Attraction or not, he damn sure didn’t like the idea of Beau coming to his rescue. He didn’t need anyone fighting his battles for him.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but that’s just who I am,” Beau said, turning away from him.
“No, uh-uh,” Ethan growled, grabbing Beau the same way he had him seconds before. “Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
Tempers were high, evident when Beau took a step closer, coming nearly nose to nose with Ethan again and forcing him back against the door of his own truck.
“Why?” Beau inquired. “You want me to stand here so you can tell me to mind my own business?”
Yes. That was exactly what he wanted to tell Beau.
A gust of wind whipped around them, a chill racing down Ethan’s spine. He wasn’t sure whether he was more affected by the cold bite of the air or the glacial look in Beau’s eyes.
“You can’t fight my battles,” Ethan said forcefully, trying to grab hold of the last remnants of his control. He tried to ignore the flex of Beau’s arm beneath his hand, or the intensely sexy scent of that cologne Beau favored. Or the fact that they were nearly chest to chest.
He damn sure wasn’t interested in letting Beau see how fucking hot he made him. Not to mention, he didn’t want to fight with Beau. Hell, he didn’t want to talk to Beau period. He was here as a favor to Zane. That was the only reason he would’ve signed up for this shit.
“That wasn’t your battle to fight,” Beau said seriously. “But I can tell you one thing…” Beau shoved his finger in Ethan’s chest, and the simple pressure had Ethan sucking in a breath, and it wasn’t because it hurt. No, quite the opposite. “I won’t stand back and let anyone talk shit about those I care about.”
Ethan released Beau’s arm and shoved the hand stabbing at him away. Hard. He wasn’t going to stand there and listen to Beau spout bullshit about caring about him. He might want to fuck him, but that was about all there was to this.
“I’m not your business,” Ethan said lethally.
Beau didn’t move an inch, but Ethan felt as though he were pressed fully up against him. The heat from his colossal body somehow forced away the icy February breeze and warmed him from the inside out.
Not a good thing.
“I want you to be my business.”
Ethan shook his head. “You don’t know what you want. If you’re smart, you’ll stay as far away from me as possible.”
He had wanted to warn the man off of him for too long. Now that he had the opportunity, Ethan almost wished he could take the words back. Only they were the truth. Beau deserved better than what Ethan had to offer him or any man for that matter. It was hard enough to engage in relationships that were strictly sexual in nature, but that’s all Ethan had to offer. That was all he wanted to offer.
Before he could say anything more, Beau was closer, the warmth of his chest seeping through the thin layers of cotton that separated them.
“I know exactly what I want. And you’d be smart to give in because I can tell you, I don’t have any intentions of giving up.”
And just like that, Beau’s warmth disappeared as he took a step back. Ethan was gearing up to give Beau a piece of his mind when a truck door slammed, and Ethan jerked to see who it was. Beau growled, low and intimidating. Something Ethan had gotten familiar with. It was Beau’s possessive response he’d noticed. And, damn it all to hell, he liked the sound way too much.
“Son of a bitch,” Ethan groaned, his eyes locking with Blake’s over the hood of the wrecker.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Beau growled from behind him, the deep, gravelly sound of his voice causing an influx of heat to build inside of Ethan.
“He doesn’t know when to give up,” Ethan muttered as he walked away from Beau. “What do you want, Blake? I’ve got shit to do today. I don’t have time for this.”
“But you have time for him?” Blake asked, his green eyes narrowed to slits as he stared past him at Beau.
The guy looked like shit. And that was saying something because Blake had always looked good. Always put together. A metrosexual, Ethan thought they were called, Blake was known for his attention to detail when it came to his appearance.
Not today. Blake’s scruffy beard made Ethan’s normal disregard to his appearance look stylish. His dark hair was a mess, obviously not combed that morning. His long-sleeved, navy blue Henley shirt was wrinkled and untucked and as Ethan moved around the truck, he noticed that one of Blake’s pants legs was tucked into his boot as though he’d gotten dressed in the dark.