Page 12 of Blue Collar Hotties

“Um.” Riley glances at me, then back at the man. “N-no.”

Ah, fuck. Searing pain ripples through my chest, and I grit my teeth in silence. Been a long time since I’ve hurt like this.

And I know it’s her right to do whatever she wants withwhoever she wants, but if I have to watch Riley Sanchez make a date with this asshole, I’m going to howl.

But then: “He’s my husband.” Her voice rings out, pure and confident as it tells the sweetest lie, and the man’s smile drops away where he’s leaning so close. He glares at me outright then, and I raise a cool eyebrow.

Her husband? Shit.

Shit.

She can’t drop stuff like that on me. I’m rigid for a whole new reason now, every nerve in my body crackling to life.

“No rings.” The man’s charm is long gone. He’s embarrassed, and he’s looking for a row.

“We don’t need ‘em.” My voice makes him jolt, and it’s like he forgot I was here. Forgot, since I was so quiet for a minute there, that I’m bigger than him and rougher than him and so fucking ready to move him along by force. “Clear out.”

Maybe it’s a shame he slinks off so easily. Hearing those words from Riley’s mouth, hearing her call mehusband… I’ve got a lot of energy to burn off now. Could’ve done with throwing a few punches in the parking lot—but no. I won’t embarrass Riley like that, not without a damn good reason.

The checkout lady is scanning our cans, wide-eyed. I shake my head and stomp to the end to start bagging.

“Husband,” I mutter after a few minutes. Packing beside me, Riley’s ears turn pink. “Husband. You trying to kill me?”

“Would it really be so bad?” she whispers back, and she’s frowning now, staring down at her hands as she works.

Bad?

Would it be sobad?Is she kidding?

Fuck. Me.

* * *

It’s been a long morning already, and maybe that’s what does it. What snaps the final thread of my control. Or maybe it’s the sad, hurt look on Riley’s face, or that word—husband—echoing around my head.

I load the bags into the truck. Take back the stupid squeaky cart. Then stride across the parking lot to where Riley’s slumped against the passenger side door, fiddling with the hem of my stolen shirt. She’s all tired and caved in on herself again, staring out at the mountains all around, and I’m a man on a fucking mission. If a car slammed into me right now, it would bounce off. Ping clean off me like a pebble.

“Riley.”

She looks up just as I reach her, but I don’t stop moving. I plow right into her, flattening her against the side of my truck.

“Oh!” Even with her squeak of surprise, those slender arms reach up automatically, winding around my neck. My thigh wedges between her legs, and we’re sealed together. Brown eyes gaze up at me. Her hair dances on the breeze, tickling my neck.

“Would it bebad?” I sound pissed off, and I know that’s not the right way to handle this, but I can’t help it. It’s such a ridiculous notion, and it makes me so fucking mad. “Would it be sobadto be your husband? Is that really what you asked me in there, Riley?”

She whimpers as I grind our hips together.

“Does that feel like it would be bad? Does that feel like I don’t want you every fucking minute of every day?”

Because there’s no mistaking the hard line of my cock; no mistaking the need hardening my words. And I shouldn’t touch her like this, shouldn’t be such a goddamn caveman, but my earsare ringing and I can’t shake the memory of all those hungry eyes on my girl.Lookingat her.Mentally undressing her in the fresh fruit aisle.

“If you were mine…”

I’m panting. Rocking my hips against her, a single heartbeat away from scooping her up right here in the parking lot, tearing her leggings open and sinking deep inside.

“If you… were…”

The realization of what I’m doing hits me like an eighteen-wheeler. If Luis could see me now—if he saw what I’m doing to his baby sister—

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