Chapter 9 #2
“Fuck off,” I mutter, grabbing a book of a nearby shelf like I’m going to throw it at him.
Cam just chuckles. “Never seen you this distracted before. It’s almost cute.”
I shoot him a glare, but he’s unfazed, scrolling through something on his phone. Then, just like that, he shifts gears. His voice dips low, almost cold.
“Hey, since we’re here—” he turns his screen so I can see what he's looking at. “Got a sec to talk about the Owens job?”
I glance at him, keeping my expression neutral. “Didn’t we already turn that one down?”
Cam hums, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. But they came back. Doubled the offer.”
That definitely gets my attention.
I exhale slowly. “Dead?”
Cam shakes his head. “Not confirmed. But the client’s panicking.”
“Find out who the last person to have eyes on him was?”
Cam taps his screen a few times, his expression unreadable. “Still digging, but from what I’ve got, someone lost track of him two nights ago.”
Which is a polite way of saying he’s probably dead.
This is why I don’t have time for distractions. Because there’s too many people needing their hand held as it is.
I glance toward the counter where Raven is still chatting with the shopkeeper, completely oblivious. She leans on the counter, her body relaxed, like they’ve known each other for years.
The shopkeeper’s face softens, clearly charmed by her. She tilts her head, listening to whatever story he's telling her. How she can be so open and engaging with complete strangers is beyond me, but it’s also exactly why I can’t look away.
She’s the kind of person who draws people in without even trying and that’s dangerous in more ways than one. I run my hand down my face, exhaling slowly before refocusing. Now's not the time.
We’ve been walking around long enough that I know they’ve got to be hungry. What they don’t know is that we’re heading to a restaurant that happens to be Cam’s pride and joy.
He’s been obsessed with cooking for as long as I've known him. And, annoyingly, he’s damn good at it too.
I host most of my work events here and people never shut up about the food.
For good reason. He loves making the occasional appearance in the kitchen when he’s bored, just to shake things up.
The staff knows we’re coming tonight and they’ve been given strict orders not to be weird. His words.
This place was Cam’s first big project, his baby, and it’s done better than even he expected. Not that I’m remotely surprised. He’s got a habit of turning things to gold, whether he means to or not.
As we round the corner, I slow the car to a stop in front of the restaurant.
“Alright, we’re here,” Cam announces, pushing his door open.
“Thank God, I’m starving,” Raven exclaims, her voice dripping with dramatic desperation.
“SAME!” Rachel groans, clutching her stomach. “I was about to eat the next cow we passed.”
Raven gasps like Rachel just suggested treason. “Oh my God, we can’t be friends. Not the Highland cows!”
Her eyes are wide and she has her hand over her heart like this is a personal betrayal. The look on her face is giving me and instant fucking boner. A girl getting defensive over cows should not be this hot. And yet, here I am. Hard as a rock.
We step inside and Cam leads us to a round corner booth in the back. The waitress barely sets the menu’s down before Rachel and Raven dive in like their lives depend on it.
Rachel’s eyes flick across the menu, muttering under her breath about needing at least five things to truly experience the place.
Meanwhile, Raven looks like she’s staring down a life-or-death decision. Turns out, she’s terrified of trying new food.
Cam is not having it. He’s throwing out recommendations like a damn salesman. Raven, meanwhile, is staring at him like he’s asking her to drink poison.
“ —you made me try coffee that one day for breakfast, remember?” She accuses, eyes narrowing in betrayal. “It tasted like burnt toast. You guys all need to get your tongues checked, ‘cause that stuff is nasty!”
I can’t stop myself. “If your coffee tasted like burnt toast, then you didn’t have the right kind.”
Her eyes snap to me, all fire and defiance, like she’s debating whether to be polite or double down just to be difficult. I swear, if she chooses to let the brat out, I’m going to have a real fucking problem keeping my self-control intact.
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “There’s nothing you can do to convince me to drink coffee. Sorry, but yuck.” She scrunches her nose in disgust, looking way too adorable for someone slandering one of life’s greatest necessities.
Cam tries to cut in, but she’s already on a roll. “So no, Cam, I will not be trying haggis.” Her tone is final and stubborn as hell. “I promise, I believe you that it's the chef's specialty, but I'll just stick with my salad, thanks.”
She folds her arms, leaning back against the booth and meets my gaze with the kind of determination that makes me itch to mess with her.
I shift slightly so my shoulder brushes against hers, keeping my voice low, like I’m making an offer she can’t refuse.
“Alright, how about this—” I lean closer. “You try this coffee or one bite of something I choose.”
She scoffs, but I catch the heat in her eyes.
“Pass.” Her voice is unimpressed, but the smile she’s fighting back betrays her.
The tension between us tightens and I can feel her resistance, but it only makes me more amused.
She wants to push back, to win whatever silent war she thinks she’s fighting. But she’s so easy to read. She’s already lost, she just doesn’t realize it yet.
She exhales through her nose, then crosses her arms. “You promise it’s not disgusting?”
I lift a brow. “Do I look like I would lie to you?”
“Without hesitation.”
I bark out a laugh. “Alright, fair. But I don’t break my promises, Princess.” I let the last word roll off my tongue slowly, watching the way her jaw tenses.
She likes it.
She shifts in her seat, clearly trying to act unaffected. “What if I say no?”
I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough for her to feel the shift in the air, to make her aware of how close I am. “Then I’ll just have to find another way to make you say yes.”
She blinks, inhaling a little too sharply before covering it with a scoff. “You really think you can just charm me into eating something weird?”
I drag my tongue along my bottom lip, letting my smile turn downright dangerous. “I think we both know I could charm you to do a lot more than that.”
Her breath hitches, and I feel the way her body tenses at the challenge. Her fingers tighten around the edge of the table, and for a split second, I think she’s going to tell me to go to hell.
Instead, she tilts her chin up, “You sure think highly of yourself.”
“Observant, as always.”
She lets out a huff, rolling her eyes, but I don’t miss the way her breath falters. She’s close to giving in, closer than she wants to admit.
Then, just when I think she might throw her napkin at me and call it a night, she leans in slightly, her expression shifting into something darker. “Deal. But if it's gross, I’m never trusting you again.” Then, with that wicked little smile, she adds, “And you couldn't, by the way.”
There she is.
Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.
The second the words leave her mouth, heat rolls through me, and my body reacts in ways I really don’t need right now. My mind is fully in the gutter and my self-control is hanging by a thread.
It’s a good thing I’ve mastered the art of looking unaffected because if she glanced down, she’d figure out exactly where my thoughts just went.
The waitress returns and Cam orders for both himself and Rachel, because as she put it, she wanted him to surprise her. Raven orders her salad. Predictable.
When it’s my turn, I give the waitress my order, barely getting the words out before I feel Raven's gaze drilling into me. A sharp smack lands on my arm. I blink, looking at her and she’s glaring daggers.
“You would.”
Her tone is dripping with accusation. Violent little thing. It’s honestly adorable how she’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat. And fuck if I don’t enjoy every second of it.
“Something wrong, Princess?” Like I don’t already know.
Her eyes narrow. “You did that on purpose.”
I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Did what?”
“You know what.”
I can't help but smile, thoroughly entertained. “Enlighten me.”
I settle in, watching the way the pink in her cheeks deepens. She grabs her glass, taking a big gulp of water.
I lean in just enough to make her breath hitch again. “One bite isn’t going to kill you, Princess. All you have to do is put it in your mouth.”
Her lips part slightly and the color on her cheeks deepens as she bites her lip. I swear to God, if she bites that lip one more time, I might just have to reconsider my plans.
I catch the flicker of curiosity in her eyes, that playful challenge I'm quickly becoming addicted to. She’s caught between fighting me and giving in, balancing on the edge, unsure whether to snap at me, or accept it.
I see it the second she makes her choice.
Her shoulders drop and the tension melts away, but her attitude is still on full display.
“Fine.” Her voice drips with defiance. “But what do I get out of this deal?” She tilts her chin up, all sass and stubbornness, but there’s hesitation beneath it. Like she’s not entirely sure if she wants to play this game.
I lean in closer, keeping my voice low enough for just her to hear. “Whatever you want.”
Her eyes narrow, but the corner of her mouth twitches, betraying her.
She likes me getting under her skin.
“You’re annoying,” she mutters, but it holds zero weight.
“And you’re stalling.”
I grin and her glare is full of fire, but she grabs her fork like a weapon.
Yeah. I want to fuck her.
Not even an option right now, but my body has other plans. The way she fights me and pretends to be unaffected, only to give in at the last second is addictive.