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she forced herself to relax, determined to enjoy this milestone in her life. And then with a harsh catch of her breath, he feathered her ear with his mouth, tongue invasive. Frantic, she tried to push him away, but he only locked her tighter, his breath hot against her skin. “Oh, babe, I never met a girl like you—”
    “Sure you have, Brubaker, dozens of times, at this very railing alone.” Steven O’Connor strolled forward, hands loose in the pockets of his blue serge slacks and lips sculpted in a smile colder than the cast-iron statue she’d passed on the Pier.
    Heat singed Annie’s cheeks when a swear word hissed in her ear, and she gasped when Billy spun around. “You looking for trouble, O’Connor? Because if you are, I’ll give it to ya.”
    Steven folded his arms, tone casual despite a tic in his jaw. “Trouble? Naw, but you are.” His dangerous smile gleamed white in the dark. “Ever hear the term ‘age of consent’?”
    Billy didn’t answer right away, but Annie saw the strain inthe clench of his fists. “What the devil are you talking about? I ain’t done nothing wrong.”
    “Not yet.” Steven nodded at Annie. “But look at her, Brubaker, she’s jailbait and way too young for what you got in mind.”
    “That’s her decision, fuzzball, not yours.”
    Annie eased away, arms clutched to her waist as Steven arched a brow. Gaze lidded, his chiseled face was calm and matter-of-fact as he held out a hand. “Want to stay with him, Annie, or come with me?”
    She shot into his embrace, burying her face in his shirt while she sobbed against his chest. His arms closed around her like a steel fortress, and when he spoke, his voice was as biting as the sudden gust of wind whipping her back. “If I ever see you around Annie or anybody this young again, Brubaker, I’ll toss you in the cooler so fast, you’ll have frostbite.”
    “Yeah? On what charges, flatfoot?”
    Amusement laced Steven’s tone. “Oh, don’t worry, you two-bit greaseball, I’ll come up with something—assault, maybe, or even that rotgut stashed in your coat.”
    Annie sniffed and pulled away. The steely smile on Steven’s face appeared all the more ominous, given the shadow of bristle on his hard-angled jaw.
    “Or maybe just because you’re downright ugly. Either way, I have friends in the precinct who owe me favors, so go ahead, Brubaker, I’m beggin’ you to just give me a shot.”
    Billy cursed and shoved past, leaving Annie quivering in the cold while she stared at the floor, too embarrassed to meet Steven’s eyes. She heard his noisy sigh before he took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders with a parental air. “I’m taking you home, kiddo.”
    “But Peggy—”
    He gripped her arm, pulling her up short, his glare making her squirm. “I don’t care about Peggy. She can handle this, you can’t. You’re too young.”
    “I’m as old as she is,” she said, a pout in her tone as he dragged her inside. “Or will be.”
    He held the door, palm hard against the small of her back, steering her in. “Peggy’s been around, you haven’t. In a place like this, you stand out like a sore thumb, begging for trouble.”
    She wheeled on him with fire in her eyes. “I am not stupid, you know, nor some dumb cluck who’s gonna let every Tom, Dick, and Harry take advantage.”
    He angled a brow. “No . . . just every Harv, Grove, and Billy.”
    She blinked, cheeks burning at the truth of his statement. She looked away, tone angry despite tears pricking her eyes. “I don’t care, Steven, you treat me like I’m a kid and I’m not.”
    He chucked a finger to her chin, his tone suddenly soft. “No, you’re not. You’re a young woman too special for a place like this, Annie, mixing with the likes of Joe, Peggy, and Erica.”
    “And you?” she said with a hike of her chin.
    He smiled. “Yeah . . . especially me.” He folded his arms. “So . . . you gonna let me walk you home, or are you going to