Page 31 of Resurfaced Passion
She looked somewhere over his shoulder.
“Can you sit down a second?”
“I’m busy.”
“Okay.”
She sighed feeling like a giant sucker when she slid herself into the opposite seat. “What, Reaper? I need to work.”
“Don’t be mad. Do you want me to apologize for kissing you? Even if I’m not sorry.”
Lungs. Stopped. Working.
Blinking, she took a sharp second to process all those words coming from him, because she was feeling all the feelings all at once. So many fireworks popping in her belly.
“No,” she cleared her throat. “I don’t want an apology for…for that.”
“Then for running that jackass off?” His voice became darker, it practically smoldered out of his tight lips, his eyes burned through her as easy as a flame would on paper, scorching her and Paige had to grip both fists into the hem of her skirt to stop from climbing over the eggs to get at him. God, he was appealing. “Because let me tell you right now, I don’t fucking regret that either. He was a jackass and he’s lucky he walked out on his own two unbroken legs.”
Another throat clear. “You said that already. He was okay.” Until the end. “He’s a veterinarian.”
Reaper scoffed and she wanted to laugh at his reactions when he rolled his pretty eyes. He was usually so buttoned up she could never tell what he was thinking.
“Veterinarians can be fucknuts too.”
She muttered “whatever.” And made a move to slide out of the booth. His hand flattened on the table stopped her. “If I don’t have to apologize for that, why you mad at me?”
The man was an idiot.
All men were idiots.
But especially men who had no clue what was right in front of him just begging him to see her.
“Nothing, Reaper. Absolutely nothing.”
She didn’t let him stop her this time and for three hours he sat right there, eating his food and ordering coffees.
But what he did most—he watched her.
Every single move she made she felt his eyes clinging to her.
Talk about performance anxiety!
A few of his MC boys came in and ordered a table full of food. They laughed and talked too loudly, they ordered more food and a bucket load of coffees. They had the rest of the clientele on edge, she never knew why, because they seemed like such nice men. She knew for one that Winter was deliriously happy with her biker, that man would climb Godzilla if Winter asked him to.
But as the diner emptied, she was left feeling those amber orbs on her and though she scowled a few times over at him he didn’t look away.
God, he was maddening. Did he have Teflon for skin?
“Thanks, Paige. It was delicious as always.” Shouted Tag from the door. The guy was bruised to hell, seriously purple all down one side of his face. What wall had he run into? She was about to tell him he was welcome when he added “Just like you, sweetheart.” And he winked.
Her eyes instantly went to Reaper and then she regretted it.
Why shouldn’t a handsome (albeit slightly battered) guy say something nice and wink at her? She was single.
The dirty-blond haired guy standing in the door, a slight dusting of light facial hair, wide as the frame and lean in the hips, eyes so blue they reminded Paige of the time she went to the beach when she was fourteen. “Maybe I’ll be back later … to taste your pies.”
She didn’t even see Reaper move until he was up off his seat and moving towards the door where Capone shoved Tag out the door. “Get out before he kills you,cabron.” Tag left cackling.
