Page 79 of Tracking Luxe

Big dumb sappy fucks.

And Grinder was jealous as hell.

There, he’d let himself admit it.

He was jealous of that closeness his buddies had with their bitches--- fuck, not bitches, the one time he referred to Ruby as one Preacher had about hit the roof AND Grinder into next week, he didn’t mean any disrespect, but fuck, his jaw ached for a full day.

His MC brethren had turned into pussies and had never looked happier.

Grinder was green about it.

Because the woman he was hard up for didn’t seem to be feeling what he was.

His man made clusterfuck just kept on coming.

Luxe wasn’t like any other chick he’d ever come across. Orcome across, even though he wanted to splatter his mark from forehead to toes, god, did he.

She was a ball of contained anger he was attracted to and it made him say shit, do shit, that he wouldn’t ordinarily say or do. Some could say it was her fault, really.

He was pissing himself off.

Preacher slung a weighty arm around his shoulders. As big as Grinder was he still had to recalibrate his stance to accommodate it. “You got it bad, buddy.”

“I regret every time I fucked with you about Ruby.” His sigh could have blown over a small building. Preacher just laughed. “Why, ‘cause now you’re gonna catch it from me?”

He turned a vicious stare on Preacher who just grinned.

Grinder was so sunk.

At least he knew now there was nothing but slippers between Luxe and the Kingsmen prez. He felt the jealous weight of that lift.

Now he just had to win around his woman.

Grovelling. Fuck, he could do that.

Something unsettling had happened for Christ sake; he’d been caught in emotional monogamy and he knew he’d chase that dirty rotten thief across the country just to catch her and force her to feel this storm he had building in his chest. He was a damn brutal outlaw, a class A bounty tracker with an authentic case of the feels.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Stealing a Lamborghini or looking across the table at the sexiest pair of gray eyes? No contest.” - Luxe

He took her for food.

After sitting outside Steele’s apartment, for more than two hours waiting for her, it took a lot of persuading to agree to come out with him. His tongue did most of it inside her mouth. When she sighed dreamily Grinder had pounced, insisted he wanted to take her out for food.

Now they were sitting quietly glancing at the other from opposite sides of the table in the only vegetarian restaurant in town he’d found on Google.

“Only my face?”

“Huh, what?” She was picking and poking at her fries, chomping through every third or fourth one, he ate the ones she discarded. Far as he could tell she liked them pin straight.

“Earlier, you said you only missed my face, nothing else?” Her eyes raced over his face like he could just see her trying to figure out his angle. Her eyes were constantly suspicious, he saw a flicker of calculation before it disappeared, he geared up for her next move. Luxe had always kept him on his toes, he didn’t think trying to date her would be any different. There wasn’t an angle, he could have told her that easily, he was a hard-up man wanting to spend some fucking time with her that didn't involve his dick.

And he saw the irony there because he wanted her there as well. On his dick.On it.Fucking on it. All the time. Was it wrong he wanted more from her and to convince her of the same. It was a gut feeling, he didn't have all the answers but Grinder always relied on his gut to lead the way. This was some unique path he was getting used to. As warily as she watched him across the table, her dark chocolate gaze flicking up to stray to his face, he watched her just as deeply. It went bone deep this kinda obsession he was having to shoehorn himself in her presence any way he could.

Or maybe he was just cursed.

Maybe the women he wanted in his life just didn’t want to stay.