Page 49 of The Oath We Take

Butcher shrugs. “Don’t like the idea of you having a boyfriend, but I guess you’re old enough to make your own decisions on these things.”

“Thank you. Yes. I am. But I told Rocco that I don’t see us going anywhere.”

Butcher’s eyes go wide. “What? Why?”

“It was a very intense first date, that’s all. Nice guy. He walked me home. Wasn’t going to invite him in, but then we were attacked, and I didn’t feel right making him drive home alone, given he was hurt.”

Even I can hear the lie.

If Butcher can, he doesn’t show it. “Fuck me, I can’t keep up. I need coffee, and then you and I can finish our conversation.”

He marches off to get coffee, and finally the bar is empty. Just Ember and me.

“You set him straight?” I ask quietly.

Her face softens. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

I tug a hand through my hair. “Then why the fuck were the two of you clinging to each other like shipwreck survivors out there?” I stab my finger in the direction of the lot.

“What?” she asks.

“I saw the two of you, all up in each other’s space.”

Wrinkles of confusion give way to anger. “We were not up in each other’s space. He hoped for more. I said no. He hugged me and then he left. That’s the end of it.”

“But—”

Her eyes flash. “No, Atom. Stop. You’re pissing me off.”

“I know the fucking feeling.”

Her cheeks flush pink, her chest heaves, and even though I know it’s risky, I reach for her and kiss her. In the silence of the bar, I’ll be able to hear Butcher’s stomping footsteps. Guy walks heavier than a Clydesdale. Her lips are firm beneath mine at first. The fist that tries to push me away, finally relaxes and tugs me closer.

I melt into her in the most reckless of ways.

Dicing with death might be a cliché, but in this moment, it’s exactly what I’m doing. In some ways, it ratchets the intensity of feeling her body melt for me. That our need for each other, mixed with the risk of being caught, is the most potent of fuel.

I’m transported to the previous evening. The way her breath would catch, the way she moaned, no, mewled. The way her thighs felt wrapped around my waist. The way blood raced to my cock.

Thankfully, Ember hears the footsteps first and jumps away from me like I’m on fire.

“I’ll message you later,” I say.

“And I might respond if I ever find my phone and you stop acting like a possessive jerk.”

“Em,” I say softly.

“Maybe between now and then, you should consider whether you really want me or whether you want me because someone else did.”

Butcher appears around the corner, still far enough away that he can’t hear us. “That’s not what this is, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it?” She turns to Butcher. “Ready, Dad?”

Butcher nods, and she marches into his office.

The conversation leaves me reeling, and I walk behind the bar to help myself to a glass of whiskey I shouldn’t really drink because I have to head over to the ranch because Dad insists I meet with a cattle breeder interested in putting one of our bulls to stud.

It’s not professional to show up with alcohol on your breath, but given the last twenty-four hours, I feel like I need a shot of something. I slug it down, then pop a stick of gum in my mouth. It’ll have to do in lieu of making it home to my toothbrush.

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