Page 102 of Reckless King

The thought fills me with a mix of excitement, happiness and fear. Nothing about last night felt fake. In that moment, I believed I was his. I wanted that. I wanted him to claim me and to keep me. Even this morning, when I woke up after passing outnext to him, there was something new flickering in the depths of his golden eyes as he looked at me.

And now I’m here, wondering what it all means. I need to ask. I know that. The chance of falling hard and getting hurt if I don’t understand these new rules is too high. But I can’t bring myself to do it just yet. I want to enjoy whatever this is a little longer before I force myself to ask for the truth.

I sigh and heave myself upright. Rebecca, our part-time baker, left pastries in the fridge for restocking, so I pull the trays out and shove them into the oven. I set the timer on my phone so I don’t lose track, then head back out to help Jarrod and Marie.

A couple of hours later, after the rush has died down, I’m sitting at one of the empty tables with my phone in one hand and my planner in front of me, working on the details of True Brew’s inaugural tasting night. Jose has supplied a selection of single origin beans from family farms in Columbia, Brazil and Sumatra, as well as several specialty blends. Every one of them is incredible. Now I’m focusing on the menu to accompany them. I rule out anything too sweet, since that will overwhelm the subtler flavors of the coffee, but dark chocolate always pairs well. I jot down some ideas.

The bell above the door jingles, and I look up and smile like I always do at the sound. But the smile falls, and oxygen leaves my lungs in a rush.

Eric stands in the doorway, his hands tucked into his pockets, and surveys the shop, his pale blue eyes taking in the space. He doesn’t notice me at first, since I’m tucked into the corner. My first thought is that if I stay here and put my head down, maybe he’ll leave. Then I realize how silly that is. He’s here to see me, so he’ll ask Jarrod, and Jarrod won’t know to put him off.

On the other side of the shop, Brad, today’s Pinnacle bodyguard, is sitting with an open laptop in front of him. He’styping away as if he’s an innocent, bulky businessman working at his local coffee shop.

His presence calms the anxiety that flared when Eric stepped over the threshold. I don’t expect him to cause trouble. He cares too much about appearances, and his job, to do anything to draw untoward attention to himself, but on the off chance I need help removing him, Brad is here.

I take a deep breath and stand, drying my damp palms on the backs of my cutoffs.

The motion catches Eric’s attention, and the smile he gives me makes my jaw clench. It’s the same one he hit me with the first time we met. The one that’s all perfect white teeth and sparkling eyes. As if he’s never been so delighted to see someone.

When he starts toward me, I move his way to avoid being cornered, then usher him to the side of the shop.

“Violet, sweetheart, it’s so nice to see you again. I’ve been looking forward to visiting True Brew. I remember how fondly you spoke of it.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t let his smile drop at my terse tone. “The senator’s campaign for reelection is heating up. I’m in town to get financial support from some high-value donors.”

“And you thought you’d track me down to what, reminisce about the good times?” I arch one brow. “Like the day I walked in on you screwing your intern?”

His smile remains, but it warps into something far less charming. “I told you back then, Violet, that was a mistake. I’m sure you’ve made those before.”

“Uh-huh.” It’s as believable now as it was back then. Especially since, after he swore it was a mistake, he turned around and accused me of not being sexual enough to satisfy him. “Why are you in my shop, Eric?”

“Can’t I just want to catch up with an old girlfriend while I’m in town? I thought we could go somewhere and chat.” His words are mild, but he’s giving off a weird vibe. I was never scared of Eric when we were together. He wasn’t the type to use violence. He was more likely to manipulate and make false promises to get what he wanted. But his face looks strained, and there’s a sheen of what almost looks like nervousness in his eyes. My hackles rise, and a voice inside me whispers to take a step back from him. But I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing his presence is affecting me. I just want him gone.

“Eric, you treated me like shit while we were together,” I say, keeping my voice low. “You lied to me, manipulated me, and cheated on me. I have no desire to go anywhere with you, and I certainly have nothing to say.”

In the space of a heartbeat, that hint of nervousness I sensed transforms into blatant anger. His brows slam down and his nostrils flare. “How does it feel being engaged to a billionaire?” The question comes out of left field and leaves me reeling. “Does he spoil you? Give you lots of gifts? I bet he’d be willing to give quite a bit if you ask the right way.”

I jolt. This is about Tate? But he doesn’t look jealous. Not like he did when we would go out and he’d watch any man I spoke to with narrowed eyes and a sneer. Not that it matters. I’m beyond caring why he’s here. I step toward him, hoping the action will encourage him to move toward the door.

“You need to leave. I wasn’t interested in what you had to say back then, and I’m not now. You took advantage of me after Dad died, but I learned my lesson, and I have no interest in rehashing the past. And I’m definitely not interested in discussing my current relationship with you.”

Eric’s face blanches, then reddens alarmingly.

My pulse kicks into high gear. “You need to leave,” I reiterate. As casually as I can, I look for Brad. It seems as though I may need his help after all.

“I have more to say to you,” Eric says. “And you’re going to want to listen.”

When I find Brad, he’s already moving. But he’s only halfway across the shop when Eric grips my wrist and yanks so hard it feels like my bones are grinding together.

“This was supposed to be the easy way,” he hisses. He gets in my face, but a second later, he releases me and holds up his hands. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” he says as he backs away.

“Yes, you fucking are,” Brad, who’s suddenly at my side, snarls. With his hands clenched into fists, he continues on, looming over my ex as he rushes for the door.

As Brad follows Eric, I cradle my wrist and stare dazedly after them. When the door shuts behind them and the shop falls silent, unease and embarrassment prickle my skin. I scan the customers around me. Every one of them is focused on me. Before I can find the words to apologize for the disturbance, Jarrod’s at my side.

“Jesus. Are you okay?”

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