Page 42 of Resurfaced Passion
She’d been so creeped out by his whole lecherous perv vibe, especially when he described the car she’d came in even though she’d parked down the block, he must have been watching her and it was then she got the chills, excused herself and called Reaper. Overkill? Maybe, but she’d learned to listen to those danger vibes.
The restaurant was busy, a lot of noise, so she barely caught Reaper say in a dark voice. “Yeah, you feel that, don’t you, you piece of shit? It’s a 9mm in your ribs.”
Wait, WHAT? Was he holding a gun on Newton? Nerves held her hostage, her feet concrete. She looked around frantically, fearful others may have heard too.
The last thing she needed was to go on the run across country, she didn’t even have any of her tights with her.
“You ever speak about my girl like that again and I’ll take great joy in blowing holes in you until you bleed out.”
Wow, so much to unpack from that one statement, Paige felt the heat of being called his girl and then the immediate blast of cold following with the very graphic threat.
Could he seriously do that?
She’d never seen this side to him.
Thebikerside.
She didn’t entirely hate it.
Newton looked at her like he thought she’d help. Think again. She was with the biker.
“Don’t look at her. If you see her anywhere you better cross the fucking street, because trust me when I tell you,fucker, I’ll destroy you for even glancing at her wrong and you can take it as a promise, I don’t lie. Do we understand each other? Good.” Reaper didn’t give Newton a chance to reply. He just put his hand behind him… oh my god, a flash of metal tucked into the back of his jeans, itwasa gun! And he got back to his feet, took her hand and he led her through the restaurant.
“You have a gun,” she whispered when they were outside. He glanced down silently. “I think you might have made Newton piss himself.” Paige chuffed a little laugh. “I think I might pee too. Wow. That was…wow, Reaper. You were so totally biker badass in there, like Clint Eastwood… but his better-looking son. God. I think my heart stopped there for a second.”
Reaper leaned down into her space. “Breathe, Paige.”
Inhaling his scent it didn’t help at all with calming her down, but he smelled incredible. He was still holding her hand and that was making her wobbly. Jeez, she was in one of those slow-burn romances, where the hero doesn’t make a move until the second from last chapter and the heroine gets all horny.
“I’m breathing. I’m breathing. But really, a gun, Reaper? You could shoot your eye out.”
She couldn’t help it, she dissolved into hysterical giggles right there on the street with a gorgeous man frowning and holding her hand.
She’d volunteered him to watch that movie just this past Christmas and he’d sat silently passing her popcorn and chocolate coated almonds.
“Why the fuck are you doing this?”
She frowned and though she felt the stab of his scowled judgment, she answered honestly. “Because I want to, okay? We’re not all an oasis in the desert, Reaper. I get lonely.”
His sigh could have blown her over.
They were at her car before she knew it. “Follow me home.” He instructed.
Huh, what?
“Follow you home?”
“Yeah. My place.”
His place.
The slow-burn just upgraded to a Harlequin with boob action…under the sweater.
He was always so unreadable, just once she wanted to know what emotion he was feeling when he looked at her.
“Your place? But why?”
Seriously, Paige?The first time she got invited over and she was questioning it? She needed to shut her damn mouth.
