I leaned closer. “Tonight was a great night, Ren. The best.” My voice dipped quiet. “Thank you, baby.”

His eyes got even warmer when he replied, “You’re welcome, honey.”

That was when I got even closer and whispered, “And last night was exactly what I needed. Thank you for that, too.”

“Anytime, Ally,” he whispered back.

“Ally?”

This came from behind us and we both turned our heads, Ren not letting go of my hand, and I saw Zach Gilligan standing there.

Shit.

Zach looked disbelieving.

He also looked angry.

Shit.

I hadn’t seen him since that night at Club. I had seen Helen, and I knew she was now with another guy, this one nice, cool and, big bonus, not a cokehead.

“Jesus, Ally,” he clipped, moving into our serene romantic secluded spot in a way that made my back go straight, Ren’s hand tighten in mine and the air around us turn heavy. Zach ignored all this and leaned deep into me. “You know, that was five hundred dollars-worth of product you made me drop in the john.”

Before I could say anything, Ren ordered, “Step back.”

Zach completely ignored Ren and kept his angry attention on me. “And Helen kicked me out. I was this close,” he held a thumb and forefinger half an inch apart, about double that away from my face, and I felt the air turn stifling, “from asking her to marry me.”

Again, before I could retort, and I had some doozies, Ren got there.

“Get your hand outta my woman’s face,” he growled.

Zach, apparently not feeling or not understanding the vibe in the air or the tone of Ren’s voice, turned his head to him.

“Fuck off,” he snarled at Ren. “Got something to say to this bitch.”

That was when it happened. And it happened so quickly, if I had blinked, I would have missed it.

And what happened was that Ren let my hand go and his shot up and out. He cupped the back of Zach’s head and slammed him face first, fast and hard enough to make a sickening thud, into our table.

His fingers gripping Zach by the hair, he pulled him back. Zach blinking and his nose bleeding, Ren brought him to within an inch of his face.

“That’s a start,” Ren whispered scarily, “Do you get me?”

“Yeah man, yeah,” Zach replied quickly.

“You see her again, you don’t know her. You get that?”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Zach said.

“Get the fuck outta here,” Ren rumbled and let him go, but did this by jerking his hair back so Zach’s neck bent unnaturally and he went flying.

He righted himself and didn’t look back, but lifted his hand to his nose and scurried.

I stared after him until he disappeared then forced my eyes back to Ren, who I noted did all that without leaving his seat.

Without leaving his seat.

Holy.

Crap!

“You ready?” he asked, his voice rough, which meant he was still angry. Therefore I quickly nodded.

Ren got up and pulled my seat back for me to do the same, which I did. He grabbed his suit jacket and jerked his head toward the building which was silent pissed-off Italian American badass for Get moving.

I grabbed my bag off the table and got moving.

Ren shrugged on his jacket as we went, but caught my hand tight when he was done.

I noticed that most of the other diners were dining. Only a few were looking up, and only because we were moving and caught their attention. Other than that, it seemed everyone missed the action.

Thank God for that plant.

Ren kept hold of me until he opened my door and angled me into his Jag. He got in, started her purring, pulled out and headed home. Even though the air still weighed heavily making it hard to breathe, he drove like he normally drove which was casually, a little fast, but in total control.

I sat next to him while he did it, wondering how to handle this situation. I wasn’t certain silence was best. I also wasn’t certain, since clearly my “business” had interrupted our fabulous evening, if he was mad at Zach, or me, or both, and if both, which one more.

What I was certain of, and I did not care even a little bit what this said about me, was that what Ren did was all kinds of freaking hot.

So I also sat next to Ren fighting squirming because I was all kinds of turned on.

With all this on my mind, alas, we made it home in heavy silence without me saying a word, which I decided was good. Whatever we said would be in his house and everyone knew it was better to have it out in a house, not a car. A car was too confining and if tempers flared, that was bad if the one with the temper flaring was driving.

And as you know, Ren’s temper could totally flare.

Ren was at my door before I fully folded out of the car. He helped me the rest of the way, threw my door to, and guided me up to his house, beeping the locks on his car. He let my hand go when he opened his front door but put his to the small of my back to guide me in.

I went in and dropped my bag on the couch. I turned on a light on an end table and turned to face Ren to see he was tossing his jacket to a chair.

“Honey—” I started.

He lifted a hand to me.

Shit.

The Hand from Ren.

I didn’t like it, but I thought it prudent to shut my mouth.