Page 151 of Catfish

My eyes slit. “Are you serious? You don’t think I can—I’ve had my fair share of—”

“Of what?”

Now, we have some emotion in that tone, ladies and gentlemen.

“Don’t get all high and mighty now, Governor,” I drawl, waving a hand in the air. “Got along just fine without you, your job, the paycheck, and—” He steps forward as his jaw twitches in one perfect shift.

“No one is doubting your ability, Miss Shelton,” he objects. “It’s just not going to be when I have men at my disposal to make sure a woman doesn’t have to go in unprotected.”

“I—”

"You're not going to win this one," he digresses. "Give it up, and please go to the car."

“You don’t—”

‘’Reagan.” My name off his lips, the way it rumbles in the air, makes me immediately halt from arguing any further. I don’t know why, I was built to argue, hustle, fight, do whatever I needed to do to survive.

It’s not without a prick at my pride, though, when it settles in my gut.

Rounding him, I walk out the front door, mentioning to myself over and over that I shouldn't be leaving this in his hands. That this is my event that I left Sadie and Mila in charge of, and obviously they can't do it, which leaves me.

But I’m tired of this damn event. Just thinking about it makes my left eye twitch.

Seated in the front seat of Wade's SUV, I see him a few minutes later stride out with two large men behind him. My hand instantly goes to the door handle, and I'm out on the sidewalk in seconds with my hand extended to one of his men.

“Give me the weed,” I tell him. The man narrows his bushy eyebrows at me when I feel Wade close the distance between us.

“You’re not going to—”

“Now.”

“Miss Shelton,” Wade stresses back to formalities. “That’s jail time.”

“Not on your first offense, Governor—” I extend my arm, palm out. “—and if you’re afraid of getting popped with your perfect driving, I’ll walk.”

“We’re not going to discuss—”

“Today, gentlemen." I summon my request with my fingers before the man I'm talking to looks at his boss, then shoves his hand into his pocket and hands over a small plastic bag full to the brim of weed.

Okay, you little rich fuck, thanks.

Turning on my heel, I proceed to walk down the sidewalk, but don't make it three steps before I'm swung around by Wade's surprisingly brute force.

So there is a little beast that lives inside him.

“Get in the car, Miss Shelton.” His tone is flat but brims with hostility like a parent who can’t go fully off on a kid in the grocery store but will the moment they get them alone.

“You sure, because I don’t want to—”

“Now.” I keep my eyes locked on his in defiance because that’s all I can do right now. My mind is running rampant on what he just did and why. I have a strong inkling that he doesn’t put himself in business that has nothing to do with him. With something that will set his name into a bad light in the public eye.

So, I’m intrigued that he played hero when I’m no damsel in distress.

Shrugging off the attempt to argue with him further, I bump into his arm and climb in the passenger seat. With Wade's men, I know everything is handled, but I should be inside. I should wait for Patricia to show up so that I can explain everything, but I am so beyond tired of her and her daughter's demands that I'm going to bail for the first time ever on seeing an event to its end.

After a moment of watching Wade point and talk to his men, he settles into his leather seat behind the wheel, along with that polite little temper he has. The air, it feels like it always does around him—taunt, charged, and agonizing. He isn't just a man, he's a force, and for the first time, I think I've met my match when it comes to the opposite sex.

“We’re going to go get you something to eat.” It’s a demand, as he starts up the car and buckles himself in.

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