Page 22 of The Devil's Scars

“So, Zoe.” She loved how he said her name so soft in that rough voice. “You all settled in?”

She nodded and toyed with the end of her ponytail, feeling oddly shy.

“And Keira’s room is all set up, too?” he said.

Surprised that he’d remembered her baby’s name, she looked straight up at him, and their eyes met and held.

Mistake. Fatal fucking mistake.

God, his eyes. The bluest blue eyes that she’d ever seen, and so warm and gentle. The contrast of something so pure and calm in that hard warrior’s face was a shock, one that held her suspended in space and time. Her breath and heart stopped in her chest; her whole body just stopped for a few seconds.

When her heart and breath started up again, Zoe felt nothing but heated longing. She wanted to touch him, and God knows, she wanted him to touch her.

She wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a long, long time.

Zoe wasn’t used to wanting things for herself. Not anymore; not since Keira. But she wanted Scars Innis for herself, wanted everything that a man like him could offer her, no matter how temporary or limited. She wanted those rough, scarred hands moving on her body, in her body. Wanted those full lips stroking her lips, her breasts, between her legs.

Even for just one night, she wanted it.

Sending up a silent plea for strength and cool, she opened her mouth.

“Yeah.” The word was kind of a pathetic squeak and she gave a little fake cough, determined to not show weakness. “Yeah, the guys got Keira’s bedroom ready for her.”

Scars nodded, looked away as Cole brought Zoe’s drink over. She forced her eyes away from Scars’ massive, corded forearms covered in long scars, managed to give Cole a smile.

“Thanks.” She fumbled with her purse. “How much?”

“Nothing.” Cole winked at her again, liked how she blushed all pink and sweet at that. “This one’s on me, OK?”

“You sure?” she said, already knowing that like Silver, Kansas, Jinx and Ice, Cole was going out of his way to do something nice for her, already knowing that she wasn’t going to so much as open her wallet in front of him. “Totally sure?”

“Totally. Welcome home, Zoe.”

“Thank you,” she said, oddly touched at the gentle words growled in that husky voice.

“Hey, Cole!”

A shout from the other side of the bar caught Cole’s attention, and he shot Zoe an apologetic glance.

“To be continued,” he murmured, all low and sexy. “You sticking around for a while, babe?”

“Oh.” Zoe swallowed, resisted the urge to look at Scars. “Oh, no. My friend’s flying in tomorrow with my daughter, so I need to have an early night. I’ll just have one drink and then I’m out the door.”

“OK. You need a taxi home, you tell me. I’ll call one for you.”

“Thanks, Cole.”

“Sure.” He wandered off now, shouting at the guy that he was coming, already, Jesus fuck, man. The other man – a blond guy in a Road Devils cut and with tattoos across the knuckles of both hands – shook his head impatiently, then grinned when Cole poured him another shot.

“Who’s that?” Zoe asked Scars, aiming for neutral conversational ground. “The blond guy?”

“Saint.” Scars drank some Coke, since he was finding his throat incredibly dry in this goddess’ presence. “Works in the tattoo parlor too, so you’ll get to know him a bit.”

He tried to keep the bitterness in his voice to a minimum, since he was suddenly insanely jealous of Saint, Viking and Arrow. They’d all be working with Zoe Parish day in and day out, and now that Scars had clapped eyes on the woman, he never wanted to let her out of his sight again. He sure as hell didn’t want her around guys – not any guys – and most definitely not his MC brothers.

The MC was made up of decent men for the most part, he had to admit. Well, not all of them, and not all of the time. Sure, Wolf had taken the club legit, but these guys had pasts. Like, serious pasts. The kind of pasts that Scars wasn’t totally convinced that they’d shaken off. Not all the way.

Maybe it just wasn’t possible to shake off that much violence and darkness, though. Maybe they were all just damned and marked, and each man had to make his peace with that in his own way, in his own time. And yeah, Scars counted himself among the damned and dirty. No doubt about that.

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