Page 26 of Just Between Us

She winked. “Perfect. Now finish that coffee and get out of here before my brother Royal comes sniffing around.”

With a laugh, Sylvie turned and sailed through the saloon-style doors, disappearing into the kitchen. I looked down the sidewalk.

Oh god . . .

I did not need to run into that man. Shoving a very unladylike bite of bear claw into my face, I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and grabbed the to-go cup, securing the lid on top.

I exited the Sugar Bowl and stopped in my tracks. Leaning against the brick facade of his tattoo parlor, Royal stretched out his long muscular legs, blocking the sidewalk.

My eyes floated upward from his scuffed boots across the denim and higher up, where his legs were crossed.

My vision snagged on where his legs met—nope.

My eyes whipped to his face to find him giving me a knowing, lopsided grin. “Good morning, Precious.”

My body reacted to his smooth opening, but I shut it down immediately. “Do not call me that.”

“Whoa, okay.” Both hands went up. “How about just a good morning, then?”

“Good morning.” I gestured impatiently toward his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to work as your brother’s ...secretary.”

His jaw flexed. “Right.”

What I was hired to do in this town was none of his business. Energy hummed between us. I waved a hand in front of his bulky, irresistible frame. “What are you doing awake? You seem more of a night owl type.”

His eyes were a perfectly annoying shade of silky, rich brown. They held mine as I tried not to react to his presence.

His scoff was warm and playful. “I thought you said I was a golden retriever?”

Running on adrenaline and caffeine, I lifted my chin, refusing to answer. His whiskey-colored eyes moved down my body. He didn’t rush but rather let his gaze hover and wander, like he was enjoying every second as he soaked in the sight of me.

He paused when his eyes landed on my canvas sneakers. “You’re shorter than I remember.”

I crossed my arms and shifted the weight of my bag. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

My petty dig didn’t affect him. Likely because we both knew it was total bullshit. In person, Royal was commanding and exuded a powerful masculine energy that should have come off as overbearing but instead I found utterly alluring.

It was like every brick I’d painstakingly placed to wall off my emotions crumbled in his presence. The mere foundation of my existence as a powerful, take-no-shit woman evaporated whenever I got near Royal King.

It was like my insides turned to mushy goo around him, and it was highly annoying.

I yanked on the strap of my bag. “If you’ll excuse me.” Shoulders back, I attempted to round his long legs and scoot past him. He stood, his towering height crowding my space. One hand slipped between the leather strap of my purse and my shoulder. Heat bloomed at the contact.

He lifted, taking the weight of my bag with him. “Allow me.”

I turned toward him, defiance flashing in my eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

He smiled down at me. “I never thought you did. Doesn’t mean I don’t like taking care of you all the same.”

Words went thick in my throat. In my experience, when a man stepped in to take care of something, it was because he deemed the woman mildly incompetent, but the way Royal put it, it was like he knew I could handle my shit but stepped in because hewantedto.

Warmth pooled low and tugged below my belly. My eyes fluttered to his. “Thank you.”

A triumphant chuckle rattled out of him as he gestured toward the sidewalk. “After you.”

Side by side we walked in silence toward the office building. The wind rustled nearby trees, and in the quiet morning I could hear the faint crash of waves in the distance. Outtatowner was nothing like the city, and Royal was nothing like any man I’d ever experienced.

He was charming and kind.

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