39
AURORA
Reece grazes my lips, avoiding a full kiss. “You’re making me soft, you know that?”
Butterflies swoop low in my belly then plummet to an angry death when he withdraws. “Are you gonna kiss me or not, Viking?”
I don’t want to initiate something he may not be interested in or uncomfortable with, but I also don’t want to be stuck in this uncertain state where we’re tiptoeing around each other.
The corner of his mouth curls up in a smug smirk. “I’m working, princess.”
I sulk, and as he promised, he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, his bite igniting a shiver down my spine and an inferno in my panties.
He releases me, and I trace my tongue over the indentations he left behind.
I squirm in my seat. “You’re evil.”
He pacifies me with a quick peck. “You’re a distraction I can’t afford.”
“This is a date,” I say, a little too whiny. “Remember?”
I blame my needy behavior on that damn backward hat and those ocean eyes.
I’m also seeing things I hadn’t noticed before, since I wouldn’t allow myself to look at him for too long.
He has a scar on his chin and another under his lip.
The tattoo at the base of his throat is a geometric lotusflower surrounded by intricate mandala designs.
He has his ears pierced. His hair is growing in darker, with contrasting shades of yellow-blond and rich brown, unlike Jax’s sandy blond.
“If I start kissing you, I won’t stop.” He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “Tell your husband to hire more security. Female, preferably.”
I snort. “Fine, I’ll be good. But our next date is in the pool, half-naked, with my legs wrapped around your waist.”
That’s unlikely to happen anytime soon, but a girl can dream, right? He did say we could do whatever we wanted at home.
“Fuck.” He adjusts his pants. “Now who’s evil?”
We break apart at the sound of a quiet “Hello.”
While he orders our second breakfast, I place my hand on his upper thigh and draw circles over the firm muscle. Still conversing with the waitress, he shoots me a side-eye and intertwines our fingers, preventing me from taunting him further.
Giving up for now, I rest my head on his shoulder and observe the crowd passing by the window.
A lovely patio is in the front, adorned with teal bistro tables and flowerpots filled with pink and white snapdragons.
A woman drinks a coffee while reading a book I recognize.
A couple walk by, their arms loaded with shopping bags.
It reminds me to ask my husband for a babymoon over the holiday, and while we wait, I daydream of a vacation.
I imagine a picturesque white Christmas, one where we’d all be confined to a secluded cabin, a roaring fireplace, and snow falling outside the window.
Then, I laugh to myself, knowing Jax would absolutely hate it.
My excitement grows when the waitress delivers my latte with heart-shaped foam. Add the sugar-topped blueberry muffin, and I’m ecstatic.
I beam with appreciation. “Thank you.”
She returns my smile, sets down the bill, and walks away. Behind her, a fixed stare holds mine and refuses to break contact. My happiness withers and my pulse races. Where do I know that bald head and weathered face from?
Kyle’s party—I’m sure of it. He helped pull Jax off the guy who was hitting on me. He was friendly with Emily. I believe he was a client of hers, though I never saw him after that night.
The memory sours my stomach and spoils my appetite.
I take a sip of my latte, easing the lump in my throat, lick the foam from my lip, and force a grin in Reece’s direction. I wrap my arms around his neck. “Do you want to share?” I trail kisses along his defined jawline.
“Aurora,” he growls low.
Too bad I have to save that panty-melter for later. “A man is staring at us,” I whisper. “He’s sitting at the counter.”
“I saw—I’m keeping watch.”
“I know him from Kyle’s party. He dated Emily.”
His body stiffens, and I recall Charlie’s words about me being threatened. The gravity of the situation sinks in, and a wave of dizziness comes over me. This is more than one of Kyle’s associates recognizing me.
Reece removes his dog tags from his shirt, letting them fall to his chest, and adjusts the chain. He cups the back of my head. “You’re safe, angel. He can’t do shit with me here.” The sharp edge to his tone offers little reassurance.
I meet his intense gaze. “What does he want?”
His nostrils flare, and he clenches his jaw to the point where the muscle bulges. “To intimidate you. Pretend you don’t see him.” His hands cradle my face, and he presses a kiss to my lips. “Eat. I’m going to send a few texts. Everything is okay.”
Then why does he have a murderous glint in his eyes?
I eat but taste nothing. Anxiety cramps become intolerable, and I clutch my stomach. Reece slides his phone into his pocket, and with his hand gripping mine, we head to the counter to settle the bill.
The man stands and approaches. Reece’s arm comes around my waist, and his massive body moves to shield me.
“Special Agent Crombie.” Baldy nods in acknowledgment. “Mrs. O’Reilly,” he pauses, his gaze lingering on my body. “Tell your husband I said hello.”