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“I like carrying your bags.”
“You made my food.”
He shrugs. “I like feeding you. I still do.”
“I’m engaged.”
“I’m well aware.” There’s that jealous undertone again.
“You can’t want this.”
He settles into the red leather booth, arms crossed over his bulging chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Want what?”
He’s going to make me say it. Why? This isn’t my confession to make. I’m giving him the opportunity to talk alone, and he’s still dragging his feet, maybe teasing me. Either way, he can forget it.
I slide my artisan mocha closer, delighting in the heart-shaped foam. I almost don’t want to ruin it. After a large sip that makes my soul dance with happiness and bravery, I stand from the table.
He grabs my wrist before I can walk away. “Where you going?”
“To get a bag and a to-go cup. If you’re going to continue talking in circles, we might as well leave. Why would I risk getting into trouble with my guys if you can’t even muster the balls to be honest with me?”
Shock washes over his face. “You want honesty?” He releases my wrist. “Sit. Eat.”
56
RICKY
Aurora breaksoff a piece of blueberry muffin and watches me with anticipation. I go to fiddle with my dog tags when I remember I left them behind purposefully.
She’s young, seven years younger than me, gentle and innocent. The little things—cupcakes, snow falling, fancy coffee with hearts on top—light up her eyes. Her delicate demeanor makes her appear even younger, especially compared to my strict country upbringing and military background.
“I don’t know what I want,” I say earnestly. “I thought I did, but everything changed.”
A frown appears on her pouty lips. “So why criticize Jax?”
My veins boil with irritation. “Is that what this is about? Your precious Jackson?”
She pushes her plate away, grabs her jacket, and stands from the booth. “You have no right to be mad or jealous of him. If you don’t know what you want, you can keep your feelings to yourself.”
She turns to leave, and I’m stunned stupid. I shouldn’t be. She’ll defend him to her last breath.
I’m not blaming her, but she has me twisted. I swear, she touched me, and I lost all ability to think straight. I’m terrible at flirting or dating or talking or whatever the hell this is, and she isn’t like other women. She doesn’t play games and has a heart of gold.
I’ve been in the military. I’ve never spent time with a woman, no more than one night. I have no clue what I’m doing. I was living with Aurora when I realized I was falling for her—more than a crush, like some life-altering phenomenon. It’s not as if I could elude it.
The bell above the door rings, breaking me from my thoughts. I throw down two twenties and rush out, cursing myself for not feeding her more.
I catch up to her in a few strides. She doesn’t have her jacket zipped. I fist the front of her hoodie and drag her into the alleyway next to the café. She stumbles and falls into me, her hand landing on my stomach, and I wrap my arm around her waist to steady her.
We’re intertwined like a couple. It’d be so easy to grab her by the chin and kiss her, but I’m positive that’ll get me strung up in a rat-infested basement and left for dead—and that’s only after Jax, Ethan, and the twins kick the piss out of me.
I dip my head, her sweet vanilla scent flooding my senses. “If you were single, I’d know without a doubt what I wanted. If I weren’t on a job focused on your fiancé, I’d know what I wanted.” Just saying it out loud makes shit a whole lot clearer. Obvious. It’s so obvious. “I want you,” I growl. “Is that what you want to hear? There’s nothing to do about it, princess.”
Her chest heaves, her heart thundering. “Why didn’t you tell me? Before?”
I clasp her neck and run my thumb over her skin, trying to soothe her anxiety. “Would it have made a difference? He would’ve come for you eventually, and same with Ethan.”
Her only response is a shuddering breath.