Chapter 24 Bad news
Bad news
Oliver
I don’t miss the glint of fire in her bright blue eyes when I drag this mother fucker away.
Once I have him out of ear shot, my grip on his arm tightens and my voice drops.
“Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, and I don’t give a shit. Last time you said you were her kin, yet today you’re introducing yourself as a sponsor? Give me one reason I don’t braid your fucking skull with that post.”
“Easy, buddy,” he hisses. “Is it so wrong I just wanted an excuse to talk to a pretty girl?”
“Lying is not the best way to start a relationship.” I choke on my own words.
Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing with her?
“Besides,” I snap. “She’s taken. So if I see you within a hundred yards of her, I’m going to take that as an invitation to teach you to mind your own business.” I give him a push, making him stumble a few steps before he rights himself.
When he recovers, he pauses, straightening his jacket.
Dark smudges mark his elbow where I was holding him.
“I suppose—” He fixes his collar, then adjusts his bright white hat. “—I should have expected as much from anyone who associates with the McCulloughs.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I drop my hands loosely, ready to strike if he decides to push back.
But he shakes his head and takes another step away. “I won’t forget this.”
“You better not,” I growl, crossing my arms.
I wait until he’s clear across the parking lot before my racing pulse simmers down enough I can turn away.
Boy, Sophia’s gonna be cranky.
I don’t care. I caught him in a lie, he needed to go.
Cutting across the edge, I find the first food booth and quickly order.
By the time I see her, I’m sitting at one of the picnic tables snacking on fresh mozzarella sticks that are roughly the same temperature as the surface of the sun.
They pale in comparison to the sparks radiating from her glare.
I might need to take a little wind out of her sails.
Pretending I don’t see her, I reach for another piece of cheese and tap the button on the tiny remote.
Her eyebrows shoot up as her legs wobble.
Shit, it’s hard not to laugh knowing I’m making her ass vibrate even when she’s pissed at me.
Fighting the smile, I chew and glance over the crowd, avoiding her until she’s standing directly in front of me.
“What the shit was that about?” Her fists dig into her hips as her knees press against the bench.
I blink up innocently. “What?”
“You know what,” she snaps. “Stealing my sponsor. He didn’t come back. What the fuck did you say to him?”
“Here.” I push the second container of deep fried mozzarella towards her.
Her nose wrinkles. “You think you can bribe me with food?”
She might have set her jaw, but she flicks her gaze down at them more than once.
“Mmhmm.” I nod, intentionally pulling out a long stringer of cheese when I take another bite. I know she hasn’t eaten nearly all day, waiting until after her barrel run.
I’m the same when it comes to competition.
Get it over with, then I can relax enough to enjoy.
Her bottom lip rolls out, then purses. “If I sit, will you tell me why you pulled such a dick move?”
I want to tell her that she likes how my dick moves.
Later.
“Yep,” I grunt instead.
“Fine.” She lets out a sigh, then kicks her left leg over the seat.
Then her arm snakes out and she steals my marinara sauce. With a smirk, she tips it towards me like she’s making a toast before she dips her food into it.
“Payment for stealing my sponsor.”
Any annoyance in me is lost as I watch her wrap her pouty fucking mouth around the shaft of that cheese stick.
Her cheeks hollow, sucking in air. “Shit. Hot.”
The heat of her steamy exhale billows over my arm making it almost impossible not to have memories of last night surface.
When she was tied beneath me, moaning with every stroke of my tongue.
That deserves another bump of the button on the remote.
She stiffens with a flush of red running up her throat.
“You don’t have to burn yourself.” I tilt my head to give her the most non-chalant look I can muster.
All while my cock rages at me, begging to escape.
“I’m just—” She takes a shuddering breath. “—anyways. Tell me what happened back there.” Her wrist twists in a vague direction as she shifts her hips.
“He’s a con-man.” I shrug, reaching across to dip a new piece into her red sauce.
I ignore her scowl and continue. “I saw him earlier—” Not a lie. “—hanging around your pen, and when I asked what he needed, he told me he was family to you. Why did he need to introduce himself?”
The color fades from her cheeks.
I’m tempted to hit the button again just to see the pink.
“He was messing with my stuff?” Her bravado slips as the corner of her bright blue eyes tighten.
Damn I wish I could take her in my arms and tell her she’s safe.
But all I can do is give a small nod.
“I ran him off. He ain’t a sponsor, Sophia. He’s bad news in a white suit.” I want to stay longer.
Having her so fucking close without being able to touch her is torture.
Pushing up from the table, I crinkle the empty cardboard container in my fist and toss it into the nearby garbage can.
“I’m still taking these as payment.” She pulls her food closer with a half-smirk. “But thank you.”
At least her anger seems to have faded, replaced with a worried pinch of her mouth.
She thinks she’s alone out here.
I’m not going to let her go to another event without being by her side.
I need her as badly as she needs me, for two very different reasons tonight.
“I got your back.” I’m so tempted to brush my hand over her shoulder in reassurance.
As I walk away, I do the only thing I can.
I hit the button and grin when I hear her gasp from behind me.