Page 16 of Deadly Oath

It’s not a question. Sabrina is quiet, and I can tell she’s not enjoying this particular line of conversation. She glances out of the window as I pull out onto the road, and I try to think of a way to shift to something else. I want to draw her out and get her to tell me more.

"So, Chicago, huh? What made you decide to move to this little town?"

Sabrina shifts in her seat, and I hear her click her tongue against her teeth. "I needed a change of pace. Somewhere quieter."

I nod. I’m sure there’s more to the story, but I’m not about to force it out of her. She’ll tell me herself, in time. "Well, you certainly found that here. Not much excitement in these parts. I thinkquietshould be on the welcome sign.”

Sabrina laughs softly at that, and I feel a small surge of triumph at having broken through her tension, if only for a moment. "That’s one word for it,” she agrees. “Except?—”

I glance over at her curiously. “Except, what?”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Just me not being used to sleeping without the sounds of the city, I suppose. It’s quiet during the day, but I keep thinking that I hear sounds at night. Something inthe bushes. Twigs cracking. Footsteps, that kind of thing.” A sheepish look crosses her face. “I know I’m overreacting.”

My heart thumps in my chest, thinking of last night and how I watched her through the window. “How often have you heard that?”

Sabrina bites her lip. “I’ve always heard noises. Animals in the woods, I guess. The wind. But I feel like there have been more in the last couple of weeks. I’ve even walked around the house, looking to see if there’s any evidence that anyone’s been creeping around, but I haven’t seen footprints, or anything like that.”

My heart thumps again, thinking of her seeing theevidencethat I left behind. I feel an odd jolt of lust, picturing it, the thought making my cock twitch.

I’m not sure what to think of what she’s saying. If it’s been a couple of weeks, then she’s talking about more than just me looking in on her last night. That much is a relief—that she’s not specifically thinking of what she might have heard last night. But close on the heels of that relief is a different concern—that someone else is looking in on Sabrina.

That same hot jolt of possessive jealousy that I felt when she mentioned her trainer shoots through me, curdling my stomach.She’s mine,I think abruptly, even though I have no real claim on her yet.No one else’s.

It’s fully dark by now, and the sign outside of Blue Moon, one of two actual restaurants in town—besides Chrissy’s Diner—is lit up. I pull into the parking lot, glancing over at Sabrina. “How’s this? I hear they have the best burgers in the county, although I haven’t tried this particular spot yet.”

Sabrina eyes the small, rustic-looking restaurant with interest. “It looks charming,” she says, her gaze sweeping over it, and I chuckle as I kill the engine. “You haven’t been here before?”

“I thought we could both try something new.” I grin at her. “Come on. Let’s get you fed, since you’re certainly not gonna do it yourself.”

She wrinkles her nose at me, but slides out of the truck when I come around and open her door, accepting my hand to help her out.Her hand feels warm and soft against mine, and I resist the urge to tighten my hand around hers and pull her in close to me.

As we walk into the restaurant, I see Sabrina’s gaze dart around, taking in every detail. The restaurant itself is the nicer of the two, with exposed wooden beams at the ceiling, and rustic, knotted-pine booths with smooth leather upholstery. It’s small, and smells warmly of fries and crackling grease, but the owners definitely put some effort into trying to make it seem a bit more upscale. The lighting is soft, coming from an iron chandelier at the ceiling, and someone installed Edison bulbs over the oak-topped bar.

From the way Sabrina looks around, it seems like the aesthetic is entirely unfamiliar to her. She looks halfway between nervous and amused, and I watch her reactions, enjoying the shifting emotions on her face. I feel like every expression is telling me a little more about her, before she means to reveal it herself. It feels thrilling, much like last night did. Like stripping away her defenses, one at a time, until I see who this mysterious woman truly is.

“Table for the two of you?” A pretty blonde waitress hurries up to the hostess stand, menus in hand, and I nod.

“Yes, please.” Instinctively, my hand goes to the small of Sabrina’s back, as we follow the waitress to one of the booths near a window. I feel her tense slightly at my touch, but she doesn’t pull away. Not like she did out on the trail, when she started walking faster just to get away from my hand on her back.

Something shifted between us when I kissed her tonight. I gave her a taste of something that she’s never had before, and she wants more of it. I can feel her nervousness—but I think there’s anticipation there, too.

She wants to go slow, and I’ll give her that. I don’t want to frighten her off. But at the same time, just being near her feels intoxicating. Everything about kissing her, every touch and every gasp, the feeling of her under my hands and mouth, and the way I now know for certain that I’m her first in every possible way—it all made me want to do anything other thango slow.

We slide into opposite sides of the booth, and Sabrina asks forwater with lemon, while I order an ale on draft. She opens her menu, her eyes widening slightly as she scans it.

“Everything alright?” I ask, and she glances up at me, an uncertain look crossing her face.

“I’m just excited to eat something that isn’t microwaved,” she says, a little defensively, and I chuckle.

“This is all a little more rustic than you’re used to, isn’t it, princess?”

Her eyes snap up to mine. “I don’t like that nickname.”

“Don’t you?” I smirk, letting my gaze drift over her face. “You say you don’t like it, but I see the way you suck in a breath when I say it. The way your face colors a little. I don’t think it’s entirely because it makes you mad. Or maybe you just like it when I make you mad,princess.”

“You’re very observant,” she says tartly, her eyes dropping back down to her menu.

“Part of the job.” I shrug, glancing at mine. I know what I’m going to order almost as soon as I look at the offerings, and I set it back down, leaning back in the booth.

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