Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
THORA
When I step into the coffee shop hoping to steal a few quiet minutes before returning to work, awareness prickles along the back of my neck, sending goose bumps across my skin. I glance to the left, and that’s when I see him.
Anton sits at a table with a cup gripped in one hand and his phone in the other, studying the screen with such intense focus that the rest of the room might as well not exist. I can’t believe he’s here in my favorite coffee shop, though sadly without that beautiful dog beside him this time.
He hasn’t noticed me yet, which is probably for the best. I really should stay far away from men in the Mafia, yet here I am practically pining after one.
He isn’t even the type of man I usually find attractive. There’s something dark and dangerous about him, like he’s spent so long surrounded by violence that it’s the only place he feels at home.
Considering who he is, that’s probably true.
Still, there’s something else too—something I can’t quite put my finger on—and that only makes me want more time with him so I can figure it out.
Of course, Blair’s voice cuts through my head, reminding me he’s not a horse, but a man. A real man.
But honestly, are we really so different from animals?
I move farther inside, unable to stop watching him. His black T-shirt stretches across his body, the sleeves drawing attention to his tattooed forearms and the veins beneath his skin, while the dark stones in his heavy watch catch the light.
He pushes a hand through his hair, thick fingers combing back the messy strands that somehow still fall perfectly into place, and I remain rooted there like an intruder who has no business staring. Every part of him is sexy and unfairly good-looking.
Damn it. Why can’t he be ugly?
Nothing can even come of this. My parents would never allow it. I don’t know why exactly, but Anton was right. Our families are not friends.
But we could be…
Right. He doesn’t even like you. So get your head out of the gutter, grab your coffee to go, and get out before he sees you.
But of course, I don’t listen to myself. I stay right where I am, staring at his broad shoulders and wondering if he could bench-press me.
He absolutely could. Just look at those shoulders, so big and—
“Thora?” the barista, Nadia, calls out.
I turn toward the sound just as Anton looks up, his attention snapping away from his phone the second he hears it. His hooded gaze traps me in place, and I go still, caught there in the weight of it.
There’s nothing warm or inviting about him, yet I still can’t look away. My pulse jumps, and then he crooks a finger with the faintest hint of amusement touching his face, his eyes saying he already knows I won’t refuse.
As though I’m being pulled, I move toward him, stopping at his table as heat climbs up my neck. “Uh, hey.”
His irises travel over me with deliberate hunger. No man has ever looked at me like this before, undressing me in his mind without the slightest hint of apology.
“Stalking me?” He holds my stare as one corner of his mouth lifts and a dimple appears.
Oh, crap. I’m a sucker for those.
His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and my nipples tighten as I imagine that mouth in far less innocent places. His smirk stretches, telling me he caught every filthy thought.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I don’t think so. I always come here. Kind of wondering if you’re the one stalking me, though. Or maybe it’s fate.”
His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes.
“Yeah. Fate.” He chuckles.
“You don’t believe in it?”
“No.” He says it flatly and without hesitation, which is exactly what I expected from him.
“I can see that.”
He inclines his chin. “What does that mean?”
Man, sometimes I really need to keep my mouth shut. But it’s too late for that now.
“Nothing. Just…you seem a little guarded.”
He doesn’t answer right away, and the longer he stares, the more nervous I become. Then the faintest smile touches his mouth.
“Is that your way of calling me an asshole?”
A laugh slips out. “No. I didn’t say that.”
His gaze holds me long enough to make me painfully conscious of standing there beneath it. “What do you want?”
“What?” I tilt my head in confusion.
“To order. It’s on me.”
“Oh…” I shake my head. “You don’t have to buy me anything. I was just going to—”
“I asked what you want, Thora.” My name leaves his mouth in a low, commanding rasp that offers no room for argument, and I grow achy all over, which is quite embarrassing.
“Medium iced latte. And thank you.”
He pushes back his chair, and the minute he gets to full height, I feel it—that effortless command filling the space between us—while every reckless part of me wants to take him for a test drive.
My mother would be ashamed of me right now. But can she blame me?
He’s tall, maybe six-four, broad enough that I have to tip my head back just to keep my eyes on his face. Next to him, in my sneakers, I feel tiny, which is not a bad thing. At all.
He passes me, and I fall into step beside him, trying to act normal even as my body reacts to him being this close. By the time we’re almost at the counter, his hand settles at my waist, his fingers grazing the small of my back. I hold myself still, afraid that if I move too much, he’ll pull away.
When we reach the register, the contact disappears, and he turns to Nadia as though nothing happened.
“Nice to see you.” She gives me a quick wink, then glances toward Anton.
“You too,” I mumble, hoping she doesn’t say anything to embarrass me.
But I know Nadia better than that.
She leans closer. “Who’s this handsome guy you’ve been hiding from me?”
“Stop.” My eyes widen. “He’s no one.”
Even as I say it, the words don’t feel right.
One thick brow arches as she scoffs, then turns her attention to Anton. “What can I get for you?”
“Medium iced latte for her.”
“And for you?”
“I’m fine.” His face is blank. Cold.
Why the hell does that make me want him more? Seriously, was I dropped on my head as a child?
She taps on the screen in front of her, and when she peers back at me, there’s that look again, like she knows I’m lying about who he really is.
But there’s nothing here. He really is no one.
I shake my head, signaling for her to drop it. Her mouth presses, but I can see the smile fighting its way through.
“It’ll be right up.”
I linger near the counter, painfully aware of Anton waiting behind me while I pretend not to notice how close he is.
When Nadia returns with my drink, she flicks her eyes toward him and silently mouths, He’s so hot.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I snatch the cup from her before she can embarrass me any further and turn toward the table. Anton follows close enough that I can feel him at my back, his hand near enough to touch me again.
But this time, he doesn’t. He pulls out my chair, and the gesture catches me off guard.
“Thank you.” I glance at him with a small smile before settling down.
By the time he takes the seat across from me, the silence between us stretches, while he studies me all over again.
My fingers trace the edge of the table as I try to fill it. “How’s your dog? Volchok?”
A muscle in his jaw pops. “He misses you. Asks about you all the time.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head with a grin. “Nice one.”
“What?” That full mouth quirks up. “A pretty girl like you? He couldn’t help himself.”
“You think I’m pretty?” I narrow my eyes playfully.
“I didn’t say I did.”
“Right.” My lips purse. “Your dog.”
“That’s right.” Amusement warms his eyes, making it clear he’s enjoying this far too much.
“Well…maybe I can see him sometime.”
The humor instantly drains from his expression. “Doubt that.”
“Why not?”
He takes his time answering, his gaze traveling over my face.
Needing a distraction, I reach for my coffee and take a drink.
His hand crosses the table, and when his fingers close around my free one, the contact burns itself into my skin, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
His thumb drags along my palm, and as he leans in, my skin pebbles from the rush of warmth his touch leaves behind.
“I told you I’m not looking for friends.”
My pulse stumbles, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I lift one shoulder, pretending his touch isn’t affecting me as much as it is.
“I have a feeling you’ll change your mind.”
His hold is firm around me as a sardonic laugh passes through him. “Why? You think you’re that irresistible?”
I hold his stare, refusing to back down. “That’s right, I am.”
Another chuckle escapes him, more natural this time. “Hmm…we’ll see about that.”
What the hell does that mean? And why am I desperate to find out?
ANTON
All right, Thora. I can play this game. In fact, I’m enjoying it. More than I thought I would.
But if pretending I want you helps me get close to you and find out things you don’t tell anyone else, I’ll play all day. All night too.
Wanna get on my lap while you tell me all your deep, dark secrets? I might let you.
This job might be the easiest one I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve gotten close to any of my marks before. But they do say there’s a first time for everything.
“So, what is it that you do for your family?” I ask, pretending I don’t know shit.
“I’m a vet, so I tend to the animals and keep the petting zoo afloat.”
“Why here?”
I never understood what made her come work out here a year ago instead of staying in Texas, where she’s from. For the longest time, it was only her sister, Greer, handling things.
She glances down, and when she looks back at me, there’s something in her expression I can’t quite understand. Sadness, maybe?
“I just needed to get out of Texas.”
“Got sick of the cowboys?” My mouth curls.
“Something like that.” Those brown eyes bounce between me and her coffee.
“Do you like it here, in the great state of New Jersey?”
“It’s not so bad. It’s got you,” she teases with an easy, infectious grin. “And Volchok, of course. My new BFF.”
“Ah, yes. What am I going to do with you two?”
“Maybe he can come visit me at the farm, since his owner doesn’t wanna be my friend.”
She tugs on her bottom lip, and I grind my jaw to stop myself from wanting to be the one to do it.
“Maybe you can come over for a play date?”
“Really?” Her face beams.
“No.”
“Maybe you are a bit of an asshole.” She quirks a brow.
“Why, thank you, Ms. Whitlock.”
She rolls her eyes and takes another sip, then studies me like she’s searching for a shred of humanity. And some part of me wants her to find it. The thought is idiotic because I like being alone. It suits me. But I still find myself wondering…
Is there more to life than that? Has my father stripped me of the ability to see anything beyond this?
Or maybe I’m just under her spell. Wouldn’t be the first time. Volchok isn’t the only one, it seems.
“One day, I’ll get you to like me, Anton Marinov.” She pushes to her feet, lifting her cup with a small wave. “Until then, I have to get back to work. Thanks for my caffeine fix.”
As she turns, I’m already rising from my seat. She glances back over her shoulder, a teasing smile pulling at her mouth.
“What? Missed me already?”
“I guess Volchok can’t be the only one.”
Her smile deepens, color rising in her cheeks, and we head toward the door together, her body brushing close enough to mine that the heat of her stays along my arm even after we step outside.
We stop in front of my bike, her attention dropping to it as I reach for the helmet resting on the handlebars.
“You ride?”
“Why? You want to join me?”
She giggles. “I don’t have a death wish.”
“That’s good.” I take the helmet from the handlebar. “Wouldn’t want you dying before I’m done with you.”
Her brows lift, a shocked expression pulling at her features. “I didn’t even know you’d started.”
A low snicker leaves me as I swing a leg over the bike and thumb the ignition, the engine coming to life beneath me. And as I pull away, leaving her standing there with that shocked look still on her face, I know I’m really going to enjoy this.
Maybe even more than she does.