Page 95 of The Fire We Crave

Her finger on my lip shuts me up. “I got it. You’re going to do everything both of us need to make me feel safe.”

“Damn right I am. I want you here in one piece at Christmastime. I can’t deal with anything less. And I have an idea. Let’s sleep there tonight. We can drop Bones off and then go eat. Maybe it will be easier if you get used to sleeping there with me, first.”

29

QUINN

“Smoke. Quinn,” Atom yells, waving from his seat in the restaurant.

“Fuck me,” Smoke mutters to me. “I just wanted you to myself.”

I grin at him and then wave at Ember. “Me too. But we can’t just blow off our friends.”

“I can when they’re standing between us eating and you blowing me.”

I cover my mouth as I burst out laughing. “I mean, that can still happen. The toilets in here are unisex and in the basement.”

He reaches for my wrist and grips it. “Don’t tease me unless you mean it.”

I playfully shake out of his hold. “Who said anything about not meaning it?”

Smoke groans as he runs a thumb over my cheekbone. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sugar.”

It feels brave to admit what I want. I reach up onto my tiptoes, holding the edges of his cut for support, and pull his ear to my lips. “I really liked it when Dice nearly caught us. And Ireallylike it when you tell me what to do.”

Smoke drops his lips to my ear. “In that case, when we’re alone later, I’m gonna spank your ass for giving me a very noticeable boner, before I shove said boner down the back of your throat.”

He takes my hand and leads me through the restaurant. It’s a simple gesture, but I like the way he leads me. I know I’m a groan-ass woman who could easily get from the entrance of the restaurant to my friends, but something settles as I let him walk ahead of me.

We get some odd looks. I’m not sure a biker date night looks like everybody else’s, but Atom and Smoke both made the decision to wear their cuts and stand out like sore thumbs against the low jazz music playing in the background.

And I’m sure some of the weird looks are because of who we are. Quinn, the little sister of missing Melody Moran. And Smoke, one of the last people to see Melody alive. Some people listen to way too many true crime podcasts. I can see them mentally deciding if they should alert law enforcement.

Not sure I saw any of this coming either, when I moved into his house while he was away. But I find it hard to regret it. I feel safe in this man’s presence. More, I feel loved.

Loved?

I trip over my own feet at the thought, and stumble. But Smoke is there to catch me.

“Steady, sugar. Folks in here already think I’m gonna kill you.”

My grin comes unbidden. “In some ways, you already do.”

Smoke shocks the shit out of me by putting his hand around my throat and squeezing it gently while he kisses me way too deeply for a restaurant.

But show me a straight girl who doesn’t dream of the grand gesture moment, when the man says fuck it and shows everyone just how much he loves her.

And there’s that word again.

Love.

There’s a lot of heavy lifting in those four letters, and I’m not sure it’s a label I’m ready to claim yet.

But in contrast, I’m more than ready to be claimed by him.

Smoke pulls away an inch, and stares at me intently. “The only person I see is you.”

Then, he winks and takes my hand again, leading us to our friends.

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