Page 22 of Thunder

Then the bell above the door jingles, snapping me out of my anxious thoughts.

I glance up to see Marcus walking in, his broad shoulders filling the entrance. Sunlight streaming through the windows highlights the athletic build beneath his dark clothing and biker’s cut. His medium-length dark hair is tousled, and those piercing green eyes scan the room before he marches towards the counter.

"Speak of the devil," I whisper to Sera, unable to tear my gaze away from him. "That's Marcus—the guy who followed me to my hotel. Also, my one-night stand from the art gallery. And my, uh," I pause, my brain scrambling for the right word, “my arch-nemesis.”

"Is that so?" Sera's eyebrows shoot up, her curiosity piqued as she watches him order an array of pastries and coffee in a self-assured tone. "Well, he's easy on the eyes. And apparently has an enormous appetite. But what's his story?"

I study Marcus more closely, noticing the bruise blooming under one eye, a fresh cut on his lip. He looks like he's been in a fight. Just how dangerous is he? I feel a shiver run down my spine, the heat from our night together flooding my senses, mingling with the uncertainty of his intentions.

"Beats me," I admit, swallowing hard as I force myself to look away. "All I know is that he's against my project and could be the reason I lose everything. So I hate him."

"Sounds complicated," Sera murmurs, sipping her coffee. "But maybe there's more to him than meets the eye?"

"Maybe. Or maybe not. Probably not.”

“True. He could just be your basic scandalous and scary biker. And let's not ignore—hot. Like, 'stop, drop, and roll' level of hot. I swear, if I painted him and hung it in my gallery, I'd have to put up a warning sign: do not lick this painting."

"You are awful," I tell her, grinning despite my nerves. "I love you."

"Hey, I'm just stating facts here," she retorts playfully, raising an eyebrow as we both watch Marcus place his order.

"Besides," Sera continues, leaning in closer to me, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "if he's got anything to do with your job being on the line, it doesn't hurt to find out more about him, right?"

"Right," I agree, still unable to tear my eyes away from Marcus.

"Okay, focus," Sera says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Time to put on your detective hat, Lia. What have you found out so far?"

"Other than the fact that he's infuriatingly attractive and has terrible timing?" I ask, forcing myself to meet Sera's gaze. She rolls her eyes at me, unimpressed by my lack of progress. “Nothing.”

“Seriously, Lia, do you want to get fired? Or do you want to figure this out?”

"Alright, alright," I relent, trying to gather my thoughts. "He's part of the opposition to the Eco Resort project, which means he's connected to the community here. Possibly that old woman, as I remember him sitting next to her at that town hall meeting last night. And judging by the way he's been shadowing me, he might be a stalker."

"Interesting," Sera muses, tapping her chin. "I wonder what I can do to get a man like that to follow me around. Also, why would he care so much about some old woman or your project?"

"Maybe it's personal?" I suggest, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know, Sera. All I know is that if I want to save my job and turn this project around, I need to find a way to get through to him—and everyone else in this town."

"Then we'll figure it out together," Sera promises, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. Then she stands. "Starting with getting to know our mysterious Marcus a little better. Stay tuned for intel," Sera says with a mischievous grin, her eyes fixed on Marcus as he stands at the counter.

I watch her saunter over to him, her hips swaying with each step.

My heart beats faster, my fingers tightening around my coffee cup.

Sera chats him up, laughing at something he says, and touching his arm. A pang of jealousy surges through me—I don't want her hands on him. I scold myself for such thoughts. What does it matter if she's flirting with him? He's against everything I stand for, and yet, here I am, feeling possessive.

"He’s your enemy, Lia, not your fucking boyfriend," I mutter under my breath, trying to focus on the steam dancing above my coffee.

I watch it for a long time.

Until it’s no longer steaming.

"Here comes the intel!" Sera announces, bouncing back to the table. Her eyes are alight with excitement as she slides into the booth next to me. "Guess what? He's buying all those goodies for the old woman and her grandkids. Apparently, the granny had a panic attack after someone tried to break into her home. She's in the hospital overnight."

"Really?" A flicker of surprise runs through me at this revelation. That wild and rugged-looking man that I called a ‘greasy gorilla’ is doing something so… kind? My mind is spinning like a whirlwind, trying to reconcile the Marcus I've met with the one who's buying treats for a family in need.

"Yup," Sera confirms, sipping her coffee. "Seems like your mysterious one-night stand isn't such a bad guy, after all."

"Still doesn't change the fact that he's trying to ruin my life," I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee. The bitterness of the drink mirrors my tumultuous emotions. It also makes me more bitter, because now my coffee is room temperature, and room temperature coffee is one of the most awful drinks known to man.

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