Page 43 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
"Pick one," I instruct, grabbing a gaudy 'I ♥ SF' cap for myself.
She gives me an incredulous look but selects a shirt with a cartoon cable car. "Seriously? This is your master plan?"
I lean in close, my voice low. "My master plans usually involve less clothing, not more. But we'll get back to that later."
Her cheeks flush, but she holds my gaze. "Promises, promises, Ghost."
Damn if that mouth of hers doesn't test my control.
She gives me an incredulous look before selecting a shirt with a cartoon cable car. I pay quickly and hand it to her.
"Put it on over your clothes. We need to change our appearance."
As she complies, I scan the crowd again. No sign of pursuit, but that doesn't mean we're in the clear.
"Ghost," Jax's voice comes through my earpiece. "I've got eyes on you. There's a team two blocks north, moving your way."
Shit.
I grab Alina's hand, pulling her close. "We've got company.Act natural."
Her eyes widen, but she nods, falling into step beside me. We stroll casually, just another couple enjoying the night market. But my muscles are tense, ready to move at a moment's notice.
"Where to now?" Alina whispers.
I spot a bustling dim sum restaurant ahead. Perfect.
"Dinner," I reply with a grin. "I hope you like dumplings."
thirteen
Alina
Iwalk into the dim sum palace, my heart still racing from our narrow escape. The restaurant envelops us in a cacophony of sounds and smells, packed wall-to-wall with diners.
Ceramic plates clatter against each other, punctuated by bursts of laughter and rapid-fire Cantonese. Servers navigate the narrow spaces between tables with practiced precision, pushing metal carts loaded with bamboo steamers. The aroma of steamed dumplings and fragrant tea mingles with the sharp tang of vinegar.
Ghost's hand on my lower back guides me through the crowded space, weaving between packed tables where families huddle over shared dishes and businessmen toast with tiny cups. His touch makes my heart thump wildly, it's just the adrenaline. Right?
"Back booth," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.
I nod, trying to appear casual as we weave between tables. It's subtle, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.
We slide into a booth tucked away in the back corner. Ghost positions himself next to me, his broad shoulders effectively shielding me from view.
I realize he's placed himself with a clear line of sight to both the front door and the kitchen entrance.
Smart. Tactical.
A waiter approaches, notepad in hand. "What can I get for you?"
Ghost's posture relaxes slightly, but his hand remains close to his side—where I suspect he's concealing a weapon.
"Tea for now," his voice is calm and measured. "We're still deciding on food."
I nod, plastering on what I hope is a convincing smile. "Yes, just tea please."
The waiter eyes us for a moment, and I wonder if he can sense the tension crackling between us. But he simply nods and walks away.
