Page 26 of Regards, Mia

Jay shrugs. “He needed some muscle.”

I can’t help but stare at Jay’s biceps, bulging beneath his jacket. “We could have managed without you.”

“I’ll follow you,” he says.

“You don’t have to.” Sweat trickles down my back, and a chill spreads through me.

“We’re going the same way,” he says. “It’s no trouble.”

He strides off toward his bike. I watch him climb on with effortless grace, irritation bubbling in my chest.

Breaking my rule never to smoke in my car, I light a cigarette and take a deep drag. I don’t know who I’m more angry with—Mattson for trying to intimidate me, myself for freezing up, or Jay for coming to my rescue.

Myself. Definitely myself.

And now, unless I want to bail on one of my best friends, I have to spend the entire evening with my knight on a shining Harley Davidson.

CHAPTER 10

Love Always Wins

Thatcher lives in the fancy part of town. The wide streets lined with ancient trees, manicured lots, and stately homes couldn’t be more opposite to the trailer park where I grew up.

He inherited both the house and his bookstore from his uncle. He’s a hardworking guy, with a backstory only a few people know about. I’m one of them because I tried to get him to renew his license as a professional boxer. I thought he had the size, strength, and talent to be a champion, but he assured me his days in the ring were over. His reasons why were enough to make me back off. Him trusting me with his story is the reason we are more than just a gym owner and member. We’re friends.

It’s not the first time I’ve helped Thatcher at the dilapidated house he inherited. I was there when he ripped out the cabinets in the kitchen, and I helped him cart off the disgusting carpet from the upstairs bedroom.

Thatcher is a good guy, but all his friends are women. None of them are strong enough to help knock down walls or carry heavy equipment. Thatcher had said he was inviting his book club friends to help box up the library, and I’d volunteered for one reason—Mia.

I’d known I’d see her tonight. I’d even stopped by the winestore and found a bottle of Chianti similar to the Sangiovese we’d had at the wine bar. I hadn’t expected to run into her while buying condoms for George at the convenience store. And I definitely hadn’t expected to chase off some asshole who’d been groping her in the parking lot.

I haven’t lost my temper in years, but I was close when I saw the slime ball’s hands on Mia. My first instinct was to knock him out, then ask questions later.

She’d looked so lost and afraid, like a little girl facing a nightmare in the dark. And even though she’d insisted she was fine, I’d seen the terror in her eyes.

My teeth grind in frustration as I pull to a stop behind Mia’s silver Lexus and climb off my bike. I never want to see that look on her face again.

She gets out of her car and marches toward Thatcher’s house without a glance in my direction.

I grab the bottle of wine from my bag and follow her up the sidewalk, catching up with her easily.

“You can stop following me now,” she says, tossing a glare at me over her shoulder.

“Kinda hard when we’re going to the same place.” I gesture to the traditional brick home with four columns and a wide front porch.

She stops abruptly, a challenge in her pale blue eyes. “What are you doing here, anyway? There are no men allowed in our book club.”

I hold back a smile. “What about Thatcher?”

“He doesn’t count.” She balls a fist and plants it on her hip. “He’s harmless.”

I shift closer, invading her space. “And I’m not?”

Her gaze drops to my mouth, and she pulls in a sharp breath.

She feels the tug of energy between us just like I do. Whenever we are close, there is the need to get closer. We are definitely a dangerous combination, a bomb ready to detonate.

“You’re annoying,” she says.

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