Page 2 of The Keeper

“No. It’s nothing. You’re good.”

She pursed her lips and studied me through narrowed eyes before shaking her head. “Okay, so can we go now? Or were there more authors you wanted to see?”

“I think Avelyn Paige was the last one on my list?—”

“Awesome. Let’s beat the crowd and head back to the room,” she interjected before promptly steering her cart toward the exit.

“Excuse me—sorry.” I cut through the throngs of people loiteringnear the doors, my short legs struggling to keep up with her gazelle-like stride.

“Jesus, Ivy, slow down! It’s not like we’ve got to rush to catch the elevator! Our room is on the first floor. What are you—oh.” My voice broke off in a breathy sigh as I found myself staring up into a familiar pair of brown eyes.

His proximity sent my heart racing but slowed my reaction time, which became glaringly obvious a half-second later when I dragged my loaded book cart across my foot. I clamped my lips together to contain the slew of obscenities bubbling up my throat, trying to play it off like my toes weren’t actively being crushed under the weight.

Without a word, he reached for the cart, lifting it up and off my foot before stepping back. Our gazes caught, and all I could think was brown wasn’t an adequate enough description for the color of his eyes. Under the ballroom lights, they were so dark they appeared almost black. But up close and with the late afternoon sun streaming in through the glass doors, I was able to make out amber and gold hues I’d missed before.

“I vote for a power nap, early dinner here at the hotel, and drinks by the pool—oh, hey!” Ivy exclaimed as if running into him was a funny coincidence and not her entire plan when she took off for the doors. “How funny. We were just talking about you.”

His brow creased, and I shot Ivy a warning glare, which she, of course, ignored. “Yeah, Piper and I were wondering if you and your friends were?—”

“Going to the dinner,” I blurted, although it came out much louder than I intended. “We were wondering if you were going to the dinner. That’s all.”

“We are. What about you? Are you going to the dinner, Piper?”

The smoky and deep tone of his voice sent a subtle jolt of pleasure spiking through my veins. I sucked in a breath, my mind filled with visions of my fingernails scoring his muscular shoulders and the heat of his breath against the shell of my ear as he panted my name in his low voice.

“Unfortunately, no. They were already sold out by the time we tried to get tickets,” I said, sounding like I needed a few puffs from my rescue inhaler.

“That’s too bad.”

“But we’ll be down by the pool around eight if you want to join us,” Ivy offered before going in for the kill. “You should come and bring your friends.”

He ran a hand over his bearded jaw before nodding to himself. “Bet we could make that work. I’m pretty sure GQ’s free once the dinner’s over, and we don’t have any plans as far as I know.”

I couldn’t resist asking, “GQ’s a cover model, I take it?”

“He is this weekend.”

Score one for Piper.

“And what about you?” I dropped my gaze to read the name stitched onto the breast of his kutte, only to wish I hadn’t. “Are you a model, Ghost?” I asked, though I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew the answer.

Ghost.

As in, what he did to women after sleeping with them, or was he a big fan of the Patrick Swayze movie?

Given my recent luck with dating, it was likely the former, which was a damn shame because the man was hot as hell.

He had a broad, muscular body built for heavy lifting and towered over my five-foot-four frame by a solid eight or nine inches. His thick, dark brown hair was cut close to his scalp on the sides, with longer strands on top standing up in messy spikes. Combined with his well-groomed beard, strong jawline, and fuck me eyes, he was just my type. Well, minus the whole love ‘em and leave ‘em vibe his road name gave off.

“Just a regular biker. Sorry to disappoint,” he replied, running his tongue over his teeth.

I willed the hairs on my arms to stand down before lifting my shoulder in a half-shrug. “Never said I was disappointed.”

His phone buzzed, and he checked it with a frown before returning his gaze to mine. “I’ve gotta head out. Eight o’clock?”

“Eight o’clock,” I echoed with a grin. Like a heroine in a dark romance, I saw the red flags and ran straight for them like a kid headed for the circus.

TWO

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