Page 8 of My Reluctant Valentine

I grin. "Deal."

Her kitchen's small but homey.There are pictures on the fridge, and herbs growing in the window.Not what I expected from an Atlanta socialite.Then again, nothing about Leslie is what I expected.A photo catches my eye of Leslie with a group of kids, all covered in paint and wearing huge smiles.This woman's nothing like Lucy.All Lucy ever cared about was her country club memberships and designer everything.

She reappears exactly seven minutes later in jeans that hug every curve and a soft sweater that makes me want to touch her.Her hair's tamed into some kind of messy bun thing that somehow looks deliberate.

"Coffee first," she demands, reaching for the mug I'm holding.

"Still bossy."

"Still one to talk." But she's fighting a smile."Where are we going?"

"My favorite breakfast spot. Then I thought I'd show you around town.Unless you've got better plans?"

"Than being paraded around as the MC president's new girlfriend?" She takes a long sip of coffee."Probably. But since this was my brilliant idea..."

"Pretty sure it was my brilliant idea."

"Pretty sure you blackmailed me into it."

"Protected you," I correct her."Speaking of which--"

"Not before breakfast," she cuts me off."And stop calling me Miss Leslie when we're alone.It's weird."

I step closer, backing her against the counter."What should I call you then?"

Her breath catches, but she holds her ground."Leslie works just fine."

"Leslie," I test it out, watching her pupils dilate."Get your ass in gear. I'm hungry."

She laughs, pushing past me. "There's the bossy man I met and choose to tolerate."

The ride to the diner is interesting.Leslie wraps her arms around my waist like she's done it a hundred times before, and something possessive unfurls in my chest when she presses closer on the turns.

The diner's already packed when we arrive, but nobody keeps the MC president waiting.We're shown to my usual booth, and I notice Leslie scanning exits, checking sight lines.

"You're safe here," I tell her quietly.

"Old habits." She picks up a menu."So what's good?"

"Everything. Mama Rosa's been feeding the club for twenty years."

As if summoned, Rosa appears with coffee and a knowing smile."About time you brought a woman here, mijo.She's prettier than Tank said."

Leslie's cheeks pink up pretty."Tank talks about me?"

"The whole club talks about you, querida.Not every day our Ranch brings a lady to breakfast."

"There's that name again. What's with the nickname?" Leslie's eyebrows shoot up in my direction.

Rosa laughs. "Oh, he hasn't told you that story?Mijo, you hold onto this one.She asks the right questions."

After she leaves with our orders, Leslie leans forward.

"So, Ranch?" Leslie's eyebrows shoot up over her coffee cup. "That's an interesting nickname for an MC president."

"It's not that interesting." But something in the way she's looking at me, with genuine curiosity without the usual judgment, makes me want to tell her anyway.

"Try me." She sets down her cup, giving me her full attention.

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