The guy at your table was relentless — leaning in, ignoring every polite “no” you’d given him.

Then Bobby appeared, all broad shoulders and easy presence, and dropped an arm around you like you were old friends. “Hey, doll,” he said warmly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

The smile he gave your harasser was friendly — but the steel in his voice wasn’t. “She’s with me. Time for you to find another place to drink.”

The man opened his mouth, but Bobby didn’t let him get far. “Now.”

He was gone in seconds. Bobby looked back down at you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Figured you looked like you could use some rescuing. Hope I wasn’t wrong.”