Page 9 of Hero

Silas

This was a bad idea.

I never wanted to kick the ass of so many guys in such a short span of time.

I don’t want any man looking at my girl.

Reason would dictate that a gorgeous curvy girl wearing an oversized flannel shirt and high heels might draw the attention of people around town, but the possessive animal inside me doesn’t speak rationality.

He snarls and wants to bark and bite at the guys around town who ogle her when they think I’m not looking. One of the guys who works at Big Beard Mechanics pushes his luck too andis about to wolf-whistle when his buddy, recognizing me, stops him and whispers something into his ear. The kid shits bricks and avoids further eye contact.

Maybe he knows not to fuck with me and mine. Or he might even know who my brother is, the ex-MC leader and owner of Big Beard Mechanics. Or it might be because I have a past of my own that follows me around.

Most who know about my past steer clear of me.

If the beautiful angel walking beside me ever found out about the kind of guy I was after I came home from the military, she wouldn’t ever pretend to be my girl.

And even though I know this I’m still a possessive bastard when it comes to her.

Maybe it has something to do with her coming down from my bedroom wearing my damn shirt. Everything about that felt wrong and right at the same time.

I couldn’t stop myself from imagining her heavenly curvy form naked under my shirt as she descended the staircase. Couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to run my hands up her ribcage and leave her delicate flesh goose-pebbled and hot as my hands course their way to her tits. And then for some insane reason, I grow jealous of my shirt. It was a pretty old item that I’d meant to throw out months ago, and now it was feeling up my girl?

Insane, right? Exactly.

But it was the same insanity that possessed me to kiss her like a madman and throw her over my shoulder like a mindless brute.

But I’m not the one to blame, I mean how could I be expected to control my actions with a sexy-as-hell temptress walking about my cabin?

What the hell had she been thinking?

Luckily, the hotel she’s staying at is close by, which means she can change out of my shirt and I won’t have to kill anyone. She changes outfits, puts her luggage into my truck and we head to the grocery store for beef, chicken, pork sausages, eggs, bread, and milk.

Oh and lest I forget, flour, brown sugar, cream cheese etc., Basically all the ingredients to make…

“A cinnamon roll?” I ask as we walk along the refrigerated section of the store.

“Yes. I want to bake cinnamon rolls for dinner tonight,” she says.

“And you’re going to make them from scratch?” I can’t keep the incredulity from my tone.

“I’ll even use my secret recipe. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to…you know,” she makes a slicing gesture across her throat.

I smile. Fucking adorable. After all the attempts made on my life, this is the first time I’m actually considering giving in.

“Know what? Kiss me,” I taunt.

“Kiss you?” Redness tinges the porcelain-like glow of her cheeks. “No, I meant kill you.”

I’m under her skin and not ready to give up just yet. I think of it as payback for when she came downstairs in my shirt and gave me an erection in front of my mom.

“What I mean is that if you’re going to pretend to be my girlfriend, you can’t freeze up like you did outside the church.”

“I did not,” she says, indignantly.

“Did too,” I reply in a sing-songy tone.

“You caught me off guard, I’ll be prepared when the time comes. Anyway, you’re changing the subject.” She sounds flustered. I like it. “Why is it so hard to believe I can bake?”

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