Chapter 17
RAZOR
Shopping always leaves me cold, but shopping with Sunday is more fun than I realized. It’s good following her around while checking her ass without being caught. Imagining what I’ll do to her when we head back to the compound.
My imagination is pretty wild right now, and anticipation is high.
She is so cute, a small voluptuous package that I will take great delight in unwrapping in a few short hours.
I’m feeling pretty good about life right now. Sunday is easily the prettiest girl to walk through those bar doors—to me anyway—and the fact she appears to like me back is a surprise I wasn’t expecting.
I whore around. Hell, the opportunities are in abundance, but since Sunday arrived, I only have eyes for one woman, and it scares me.
Not much does, but commitment is the basis of my nightmares. I will never take an old lady or a permanent girl; it’s not fair on them to ask.
I may be overthinking this; it’s been one day, but if this arrangement never changed, I would be a very happy man indeed.
I never appreciated the pleasure of being with a woman outside of sex before.
The intimacy it brings trailing after her in the grocery store.
She is with me and I am so proud of that.
I didn’t miss the envious stares of the men as they checked her out, lowering their eyes when I glared in their direction, ignoring the women who attempted to capture mine.
Now, in the coffee shop, we are doing what normal people do. Chilling, preparing to relax over a coffee, while the sun beats through the window.
Sunday smiles and leans on her hands, her blue eyes twinkling as she speaks in her sweet voice, “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Anytime, darlin’.”
My smile is soft as I lean forward and add, “No need to wait in the yard for a ride, darlin’. You want to go anywhere you come and find me.”
“What if you’re on a job and I need to get to town?”
“I’ll buy you a car.”
Her eyes widen. “You will buy me a car. Why do I suspect you mean that?”
“I do.”
I shrug, not revealing that the thought of Sunday clinging to the back of my brothers is already causing my blood to boil.
I’ll keep my possessive shit to myself because Sunday is not my property and never will be.
This way she gets her independence, and I keep her away from the horny bastards I live with.
If I’m going to keep her exclusive for me, I must make her want to stay.
“Tell me about yourself, Razor. Your real name to begin with.”
“Why?”
She rolls her eyes, “Because it’s called conversation.”
For some reason, I chuckle, and she shakes her head. “You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?”
“No.”
I stand as they call out my name and fetch the coffee, and when I return she smiles her thanks.
“So–” She lifts the cup to her lips, and I can’t look away. As she takes a sip, a little of the foam from the milk lingers on her upper lip.
Leaning forward, I swipe it away with my tongue, and the desire hangs heavy in her eyes as she whispers, “Why is that so hot, and I’m not talking about the coffee?”
I wink and she says with a sigh, “So, what is your real name?”
“Razor.”
I enjoy the frustration in her as she leans back and sighs. “It’s like pulling fucking teeth.”
I smile inside. I’m aware I’m a difficult son of a bitch and that will probably never change.
I change the subject from me to my new favorite one. Her.
“Tell me about your family.”
Her eyes light up. “My father raised us single-handedly. Mom died in a car wreck when I was two years old and my brothers eight and ten.”
Her smile dims.
“It wasn’t easy. Three kids and a business were a lot for a grieving widow to deal with.
Our grandmother helped, and I was practically raised by her.
When she died after a fall, I kind of stepped up as the female in charge.
I helped my father out in the home and business, and then my brothers enlisted in the military, and it was just me and Dad. ”
“Tell me about them.”
I’m interested in discovering every part of her life, and her smile is wistful.
“Chad and Logan are brilliant brothers. The best. They were a little wild, and I suppose it’s because Dad never really had the time to check on them.
He was and is a great father, but sucks at discipline.
After a scrape with the law, he stepped up and told them that a stint in the military would save them from jail. ”
“He made a good call.”
My career in the military saved me and my brother from heading down the same path, so I can’t argue with her father’s reasoning.
“I miss them, though. They were always there to protect me.”
“Protect you?”
“From guys mainly.”
Fuck. The thought of any guy hitting on her is causing murderous thoughts to plague my mind, and she nods.
“It was tough being a kid under those conditions. The only female in a house full of men. My brothers warned any guy off me, and when I had a steady guy through school, they backed off.”
“Steady guy?”
I attempt to act unconcerned, but I’m already planning this guy’s demise in my head, and she nods. “Yes, Jarred Benson. He was a member of the football team, and we kind of stuck with each other until he left for college and I worked in my dad’s waffle house, at least one of them, anyway.”
“You mentioned a marriage. This guy–”
“Santiago De Sauro.”
She shivers, and her lip curls in disgust.
“He is the creepiest weirdo I have ever met, and marriage to him would be over my dead body.”
“What happened to him?”
She shrugs. “He’s around. Which is why I’m so worried about my father and his business.”
I make a mental note to question Ryder on the situation when we return, and Sunday smiles.
“Enough about me. Tell me your dark and stormy past.”
“Nothing to say.”
I cut the conversation short, and she shakes her head. “Not good enough, Razor. You must have had some kind of past. Why don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Because I have no wish to resurrect it.”
My mask is in place, and she considers me for a moment and then nods, sipping her drink, her gaze thoughtful.
My thoughts are turning to what happens next, not what happened before Sunday, and as we finish up, I say huskily, “I believe this means you are mine now, darlin’. Hang on tight; you’re in for quite a ride.”