Page 65 of The Grief We Hold

When the bell rings above the door, I look up to welcome whoever is coming through it.

And Wraith’s eyes are on mine when I do.

He winks when he sees me.

Winks.

Like we’re friends or something.

Or more than something.

Then he leads Smoke and Catfish totheirtable.

So, I slow down with the coffees in the hope that Margie will see them and hurry over to them like she has a tendency to do. I walk the coffee cups over to Tanner’s table, praying for the ding of the food bell to tell me to do anything other than head to the Iron Outlaws’ table and ask Wraith what he needs.

Urgh.

Even that came out wrong.

I don’t care what Wraith needs.

I swear to God, I can still feel the way his piercing slid against me.

“Are you ready to order?” I ask Tanner when I see the two of them studying the menu.

Please say yes. Please say yes.

Tanner looks up. “Need a couple more minutes, if you don’t mind.”

I smile while internally hating that they didn’t give me an order so long, it would take me ten minutes to write it down. “Not at all. I’ll circle back in a few.”

No bell.

No Margie.

No extra-long orders.

I guess it’s just me and three bikers.

I head to their booth. Catfish and Smoke sit on the side that faces toward the window; Wraith sits facing the kitchen.

“Hey, Raven,” Catfish says brightly.

“Hey. What can I get you all?” I ask, not making eye contact with Wraith.

“Rancher’s breakfast for me,” Smoke says. “Eggs over easy. White toast. Extra bacon. No mushrooms. Two orange juices. And a coffee.”

Damn. Why couldn’t Tanner have given me an order like this?

“And you?” I look straight at Catfish, making it clear I’m not talking to Wraith.

Somewhere between him telling me he wants pancakes and something about drinks I don’t catch, a warm palm strokes the back of my thigh. Wraith’s fingers lazily squeeze and stroke.

Out of the corner of my eye, it looks as though he’s studying the menu. But my heart beats frantically in my chest, faster than I knew it was capable of. My lungs feel too small for my body, and I fear I can’t breathe in enough air to get me through the next ten minutes.

“…and an OJ. Thanks, Raven.” Catfish looks at me expectantly.

I step away from Wraith, and his hand slips back onto his own thigh without him looking up at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch everything you said.”

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