Page 70 of Bloom: Part 1

“Watch your language. Don’t call him that. No wonder he has low self-esteem.”

“You don’t know shit about us, so keep your opinion to yourself.”

I gritted my teeth. I was sure he had multiple weapons on him, but did I give a fuck? The way he talked to Bloom didn’t sit well with me. This was the man who had raised him, albeit incompetently, given the way Bloom reacted to things.

“Look, you can rule the world when you’re on the other side of that gate, but once you set foot on my property, you do what I say. This is my territory. Which includes him. You either accept it or get the hell out.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Crowe stared at me, his icy blue gaze intense. His lips shifted into a crooked smirk, a sign of amusement, perhaps. He looked at Bloom, then back at me.

“Count your lucky stars,” he said, his voice gruff but steady. “That little speech might have saved your life. I don’t care if you’re affiliated with the Grimm Reapers. If you hurt a hair on Bloom’s head, I’ll be the one reading your last rites.”

So he cared about Bloom despite his rough demeanor and ignorant approach to raising the boy. I stepped aside. “You can come in.”

Bloom groaned. “I thought you were going to send him away.”

“You, shush. I’m not ready to deal with you yet.” Crowe entered the hall, and I closed the door.

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrow.

“He knows the rules. We need to know where he is, yet he spent the night out without telling any of us.” Crowe heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Bloom, will you get off the man for one second so I can talk to him?”

“No!”

I squeezed his ass, ignoring the way the biker’s nostrils flared. “Be a good boy and do what you’re told. Go put some clothes on.”

“That’s not fair.” He pouted but shimmied down my body. “You better not hurt him, Crowe.”

“Or else what? You gonna knife the man who saved you to protect your lover?” Crowe clicked his tongue as though amused.

“You’d make me choose?”

A soft expression crossed Crowe’s face. My stomach churned at the way this hardened killer looked at Bloom with such tender possessiveness. Years of history were between them. This was the man Bloom was attached to the most, and the realization planted seeds of jealousy that squeezed my gut and wrung out every breath from my lungs.

“You don’t have to worry about him,” Crowe said. “I can tell you care about him, so as much as I still think you’re not ready, I won’t touch a hair on his head.”

“Yes!” Bloom flew at Crowe and wrapped his arms and legs around the man like he’d held on to me. A volatile heat ignited beneath my skin at their too-intimate interaction. Bloom always stayed a mile away from others. He hated people. Except for me. And apparently, this man he was hanging on to while practically naked.

“Bloom, I think your worry was misplaced.” The biker set Bloom on his feet. “You keep holding on to me like that, and your doctor’s going to lose his cool and nailmyhead against the wall as an example to all other men who get too close to you.”

Bloom’s eyebrows knitted, clearly missing Crowe’s point. “What do you mean?”

“Go put clothes on,” I said gently.

He nodded with a smile and rushed up the stairs, giving me a perfect view of his pert ass cheeks. With the wet shirt he had on, everything was on display. I snapped my head around to see if Crowe was watching, but he looked at me, then dropped his gaze to my swimming trunks.

“I’d offer you some coffee,” I said. “But I haven’t made it to the kitchen yet.”

“I’m not fond of coffee anyway, but I’ll take a beer if you have any.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t. Iced tea?”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

We moved to the kitchen. Crowe glanced around while I poured him a glass and handed him the iced tea. I got the coffee machine started, then leaned against the counter, arms folded.

“Nice, expensive-looking place you got here,” he said.

“I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to compliment me on my taste in houses.”

---