by V. Theia
She looked somewhere over his shoulder.
“Can you sit down a second?”
“I’m busy.”
“Okay.”
She sighed feeling like a giant sucker when she slid herself into the opposite seat. “What, Reaper? I need to work.”
“Don’t be mad. Do you want me to apologize for kissing you? Even if I’m not sorry.”
Lungs. Stopped. Working.
Blinking, she took a sharp second to process all those words coming from him, because she was feeling all the feelings all at once. So many fireworks popping in her belly.
“No,” she cleared her throat. “I don’t want an apology for…for that.”
“Then for running that jackass off?” His voice became darker, it practically smoldered out of his tight lips, his eyes burned through her as easy as a flame would on paper, scorching her and Paige had to grip both fists into the hem of her skirt to stop from climbing over the eggs to get at him. God, he was appealing. “Because let me tell you right now, I don’t fucking regret that either. He was a jackass and he’s lucky he walked out on his own two unbroken legs.”
Another throat clear. “You said that already. He was okay.” Until the end. “He’s a veterinarian.”
Reaper scoffed and she wanted to laugh at his reactions when he rolled his pretty eyes. He was usually so buttoned up she could never tell what he was thinking.
“Veterinarians can be fucknuts too.”
She muttered “whatever.” And made a move to slide out of the booth. His hand flattened on the table stopped her. “If I don’t have to apologize for that, why you mad at me?”
The man was an idiot.
All men were idiots.
But especially men who had no clue what was right in front of him just begging him to see her.
“Nothing, Reaper. Absolutely nothing.”
She didn’t let him stop her this time and for three hours he sat right there, eating his food and ordering coffees.
But what he did most—he watched her.
Every single move she made she felt his eyes clinging to her.
Talk about performance anxiety!
A few of his MC boys came in and ordered a table full of food. They laughed and talked too loudly, they ordered more food and a bucket load of coffees. They had the rest of the clientele on edge, she never knew why, because they seemed like such nice men. She knew for one that Winter was deliriously happy with her biker, that man would climb Godzilla if Winter asked him to.
But as the diner emptied, she was left feeling those amber orbs on her and though she scowled a few times over at him he didn’t look away.
God, he was maddening. Did he have Teflon for skin?
“Thanks, Paige. It was delicious as always.” Shouted Tag from the door. The guy was bruised to hell, seriously purple all down one side of his face. What wall had he run into? She was about to tell him he was welcome when he added “Just like you, sweetheart.” And he winked.
Her eyes instantly went to Reaper and then she regretted it.
Why shouldn’t a handsome (albeit slightly battered) guy say something nice and wink at her? She was single.
The dirty-blond haired guy standing in the door, a slight dusting of light facial hair, wide as the frame and lean in the hips, eyes so blue they reminded Paige of the time she went to the beach when she was fourteen. “Maybe I’ll be back later … to taste your pies.”
She didn’t even see Reaper move until he was up off his seat and moving towards the door where Capone shoved Tag out the door. “Get out before he kills you, cabron.” Tag left cackling.
“He’s banned for life.” Reaper said, scowling, heading towards the counter, he all but threw himself onto a stool, both arms coming up to rest on the top.
She noticed both of his brows were drawn so far down on his face he was going to need Botox to straighten out his skin.
“Is this your new thing, running off guys who are interested in me?”
His head flew up and his eyes flashed. “He’s not interested in you.”
Paige swore her heart fell right out of her fucking chest.
“Thanks. You can leave now.”
“Paige. Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that. Every guy wants you.” He about hissed. “Tag was fucking with me. He knows I’d cut every finger off with a blunt knife if he came on to you.”
What? The? Hell?
And to make it worse? Better? Hell, she didn’t know, he added quietly. “They all know.”
She had to find her voice among the rushing water in her ears and the sloshing of her kidneys, or she might have done something girlie while she held a saltshaker in each hand. Suddenly the temperature in the diner had nothing to do with the hot plates.
The back of her peach dress clung to her spine.
“Because they’re not good for me either, right?” She bit out.
Reaper looked like he wanted to vault over the counter and show her why no one else was good for her and for a second she willed him to do that.
He sat there, unmoving, saying nothing and it just pissed Paige off.
She slammed the saltshakers down and decided she was tired of this conversation.
Right as she was about to push through to the kitchen, she heard. “Don’t be mad at me anymore, Paige.”
Her heart sank and crawled across the floor to get to him.
Stupid heart.
CHAPTER NINE
“Wife of ghost past.” – Paige
“I’m not,” she whispered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
Too much exposure to Reaper was like glaring directly into the sun.
“You’ve scowled at me all afternoon.”
It was true.
“You kissed me and then avoided me for three damn days, Reaper!” she burst out louder than intended.
The two lone customers over by the windows looked across and she blushed, shuffling closer to where Reaper, so it was for his ears alone when she said.
“You made me feel like I’d done something wrong.”
His head bent down over his clasped hands. When she looked closer at him, his knuckles were strained white.
Instantly, she felt silly about being butt hurt over him being a no-show at the diner.
“Look, it doesn’t matter, okay. Don’t fuss. Forget it happened. But whatever the other night was, you can’t do that again. I know we’re friends, I value your friendship, Reaper, but who I date is my choice.”
His growl made him sound like a grumbling tiger with a toothache. Keeping his head over his hands for such a long time he just went on chuffing and heavy breathing and his long fingers tapping repeatedly on the counter.
When he rose his blond head finally, she swore she saw Jesus. Oh, not that he was Jesus, far from it. There was a zero percent chance of Reaper being anything holy … but the tortured look in his eyes, the depth of fire banked in those eyes… Jesus in a manger, she was dead.
“You could have called if you needed me.”
Huh. It never occurred to her to call him. Never, which was stupid seeing as how they had some kind of weird quasi-friendship going on and friends talked a lot. At least, her and Winter did. Paige had lost touch with her high school friends long ago and hadn’t even tried to look them up on Facebook. If she contacted people from her old town she knew she might run into family and she’d rather have a root canal performed by Freddy Krueger’s glove knives.
“I didn’t have a reason to call you.”
“You don’t need a reason to call me, Paige.” he clarified, with a rough quality rolling through his voice.
As quickly as she opened her mouth she closed it and had to wait a few seconds for her tongue to get its shit together.
“I can’t just call you for nothing.” Or to check if you’re okay because you didn’t come into the diner. Was what she wanted to say. Though she’d been mad, she’d also fretted for three days that something had happened to him.
That’s what happened when attachment occ
urred. She became a little unhinged when she didn’t see him.
“Any reason, any fucking reason, okay?”
She bobbed her head, feeling the blush rush into her cheeks the longer he stared at her with those incredible eyes of his.
“What if I need coffee creamer at 3 am?” She tested.
He inhaled hard. “Call me.”
“At 3 am?” She asked, wide eyed at his sincerity.
Something was happening here, and she didn’t have the first clue what, only that her stomach had tightened so very hard she placed her hand right there.
“At three fucking am.”
“And—and you’ll answer?”
“Yeah, I’ll answer.”
Good God, he was dangerously attractive sitting there hunched over his tightly clenched fists and his jaw working a good tick in the sharp muscle of his cheek. So freaking handsome that had he suggested she climb up onto the counter right there and let him check out her menu she would have been up there faster than a horny gazelle. Legs open, and the free for all buffet sign turned to open.
“You’d bring me creamer in the middle of the night?” Incredulous, her voice went up a whole octave.
“Yeah. Donut holes too.”
Shit, she was weak for donut holes. She didn’t know he knew it too.
They stayed in relative silence after that. Reaper stayed at the counter while Paige put things away and let Lucie leave early and then the cook left and it was just the two of them.
When it came to locking up he helped with moving all the chairs and flipping off the lights. He was right behind her as she reached the door.
His shoulder brushed hers, she could be mistaken for assuming he was crowding his bigger body into hers from the way his head cranked down an inch, giving her his clean, woodsy fragrance and stealing her breath.
She was assaulted with shivers all down her left arm.
Outside, he walked her to her car, hovering like an avenging angel. When she turned to thank him he was right there… her nose practically wiped on his sleeve and his scent made her think of rumpled sheets and dirty sex and his mouth.
His gorgeous plump mouth she could still taste if she allowed herself to think about that hot kiss. That kiss tortured her. Why would he kiss her so desperately? Why wasn’t he talking about it? Why didn’t he press her into the door and knock her socks off again with his tongue down her throat and his big hands digging into her hips?
Did he realize how he wrecked her feelings? Completely decimated them into confetti with just his glance.
“Thanks for walking me the two feet to my car,” she grinned cheekily, toeing his big leather biker boot with her tennis shoe.
Why were his eyes always so intense?
Why wasn’t he dating?
Why did she never see him with women?
A hot feeling grabbed her by the throat. He might be fucking a whole fleet of women every night, she just didn’t want to know or hear about it, ever.
Pushing all thoughts like that wicked one from her mind, she was just driving herself nuts because she craved physical touch lately more than ever.
She saw his hand move and her eyes automatically moved down to see him twirling his wedding ring.
He did that often and each time it affected her like a deluge of quicksand to her tummy. She’d asked him only once where his wife was … having known already she wasn’t around, at least not that Paige had ever seen and she’d quietly asked some of her gossipy customers, but she’d thought they were divorced, because he spent the holidays with Paige.
The truth was, she was afraid of asking him questions, because she knew she would be heartsick jealous knowing he loved .. or still loved some other woman.
She didn’t want him to belong to another woman.
She’s gone. She still heard those two words in his pained voice late at night when she should be thinking of anything else other than a man she couldn’t have, still being in love with his wife.
She felt horrible admitting it. Her jealousy ate her up. The woman was gone, and she was here.
If anything, she should want Reaper to be happy, even with a wife.
He played with his solid gold band pushing it around his finger absently and Paige had to swallow several times to control her emotions.
He saw she was watching the ring and both his eyebrows covered his eyes before he tucked his hands into the side pockets of his jacket.
“You don’t need to thank me for anything.”
“It’s a pre-emptive thank you then for the donut holes I might get one night.”
Reaper looked like he wanted to say so much, it practically poured out of his eyes and Paige, desperate for any scrap from him willed him to say it.
He didn’t.
He made sure she was safe in her car and he stood there on the sidewalk while she drove away, watching him in the rear-view mirror.
Horny and alone. Wasn’t that just the story of her life.
That night she made sure to check in with the next guy she’d arranged a date with.
She lied and told teacher Newton she was looking forward to it.
Dating 101. Fake it until you make it.
CHAPTER TEN
“Amor prohibido.” - Capone
There was a ticking in Capone’s skull that happened every Friday between 3-4 pm. Like clockwork around lunch time while he stuffed a whole taco pie in his mouth in under seven minutes, the anxious twitch began jostling his leg. His work suffered too that day.
And now it was nearly time to make that regular weekly call which churned up his guts until it felt like a demon had a claw hold on him.
The call was expected so he couldn’t just not do it. He could text and say something came up, but Capone didn’t punk out on responsibilities just because he was uncomfortable.
Estúpido. Stupid. He was acting stupid.
This wasn’t new.
He could have stopped it anytime and here he was, putting himself through it again, so who was to blame? Cabron.
The truth was a lot different when he permitted himself to acknowledge it. Because while he did dread the calls for many reasons, he also looked forward to it at the same time, for one reason only.
Dusting off his hands, he put all the tools back in their homes before he left Preacher and Reaper in the shop alone. He always made the calls in public, if he found himself locked in his room at the club or at home he would have done something he regretted. And choking out his dick with a firm fist was a favorite activity for Capone and not something he wanted to cringe thinking about.
Yeah, she got him raging hard.
“You want a game, Cap?” Called out Tag from down the other end of their common area. The bruised guy was playing a video game, and not to spoil Prince Charming’s recovery but Capone was a grown-ass man and not into games unless it was between the thighs of something very lovely.
“Nah, busy, papi.” He told him and took the couch furthest away from anyone overhearing him.
With his cell phone in hand he looked down at it. He didn’t need to scroll through his contacts, he knew the number by heart.
“You look deep in thought, Capone.” A sweet voice said, approaching him. He saw a pair of tanned legs in short-denim shorts before the rest of Ellie came into his field of vision. “Do you need company?”
Company with a woman could mean anything around here. A chat. A blowjob. A round of ten drinks with a pizza thrown in. A full-on fuck-fest with multiple participants and Capone wasn’t in the mood for any of it, but he found himself nodding, patting his lap.
The younger girl laughed and practically launched herself onto his knee, scooting up her butt until it pressed to his stomach, she wrapped one arm around his shoulder.
His fingers practically cracking his phone in half he turned a smile on her, found her watching him already. “Did you just finish work, nena?”
“Yeah, thank god, because the boss is in a shitty-ass mood. That animal doctor might be handsome as the
devil himself and amazing with all animals, but he sure does have a crappy personality when he’s in a temper.”
Capone smiled as he listened to her antics with what he believed to be the dickhead veterinarian she worked for.
“Is this the same guy you thought you might want to date a while back?”
“Yeah,” she sighed with a frown puckering her forehead. “You know I had a tiny thing for Snake and how that turned out. Carson is cute and we flirt some at work but now I just think he’s the giant dick I have to work for.”
Capone smirked. Poor little Ellie. She was a Souls groupie, and he suspected she longed for love. His teen sister died before she got to the stage of Capone killing boys for looking at her. He would have hated for her to be around men like him, that’s for damn sure.
“Don’t settle for assholes, nena. Your worth is more than his ego and tiny dick.”
She laughed. “Yeah, tell that to the guys when they know I hang around here. They think I’m a giant slut.”
Capone frowned and wanted to hunt them down.
“Immature boys with flaccid dicks. It doesn’t matter if you’ve slept with a million guys, understand? Sex should never be used to shame a woman; consensual sex is fucking amazing. Don’t waste any time with those kind of men, Ellie.”
She sort of cuddled his wide shoulder and hummed. “Thanks, Capone, they’re all jealous of you guys anyway.” And a minute later, with his mind already across the country she added. “What has you so glum, chum?” Winding her fingers in the back of his short, dark hair. Her tactility wasn’t sexual, least he didn’t think so. He liked Ellie, she was a good girl, but he’d never felt any attraction to her. They usually talked music or food. Or like today, he listened to her work worries. She reminded him of his dead sister, morbid as it sounded.
“You mind sitting there while I just do this thing?”
She looked confused but agreed.
His reasoning being if he had a woman on his lap he would keep his composure.
Hitting the right contact he waited. Ellie brought out her own phone and began scrolling.
Three seconds. Four. The ringing went on and for a brief moment Capone thought she wouldn’t answer, and he’d have a week free from his churning belly.
