“What the fuck are you doing touching her?”
Zane’s companion, a young, slightly crazed-looking biker with a thin, angular face and a dark, pointed goatee joined him on the porch, and pulled a gun from his cut.
“You want me to take someone out?” He waved the gun vaguely over their small group and Connie screamed.
“Dammit, Shooter. Put that away. We’re in a residential area and if someone calls the fucking cops, I’m not bailing you out.” Zane slapped Shooter’s wrist and the aptly-named Shooter tucked the gun away with a mumbled apology.
T-Rex and Tank scrambled to their feet. T-Rex hung his head like a kid who’d just been called to the principal’s office, and Tank followed suit.
“It was … uh … rainin’,” Tank said. “And the ladies offered us a snack and a chance to dry off.”
Zane’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. Evie knew that look, just as she knew the throb of the pulse in his neck. She’d seen that look back in their school days when he found out someone had hurt her, or worse, asked her out. Alarmed by his anger, Evie took a step toward him.
“Don’t.” He raised his hand and she froze, stunned by his command and his authoritative tone. So unlike the Zane she remembered. Like Jagger? he radiated power, but without Jagger’s softer edge.
“How the fuck can you watch the street if you’re gabbing with a coupla chicks?” Zane’s hands curled into fists. “Shooter and I drove around the block, parked our bikes out front, walked right onto the porch, and you two idiots didn’t even bat an eye.”
“Sorry, man.” T-Rex held up his hands palm forward in a placating gesture. Evie gave him credit for remaining cool in a crisis. Zane had been frightening in his anger as a teenager, but now that he was a man, his intensity had ratcheted up to a whole new level.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it if someone gets killed.” Zane’s voice rose to a shout.
Worried that the confrontation would escalate out of control, Evie covered his hand with her own, startling when a zing of white lightning shot straight to her core.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “We’re okay. No one came down the street except you.”
Zane jerked his hand away so fast, Evie lost her balance. Reacting quickly, T-Rex grabbed her arm to steady her. Zane lost control. He grabbed T-Rex by the collar and yanked him forward, dislodging his hand from Evie’s arm.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
Evie opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but closed it again after a warning cough from Tank. Following his lead, she thanked them for watching out for her and moved to the side to let them pass.
“Why aren’t you at the shop?” Zane turned his anger on her, and Connie discreetly ushered Shooter down the steps.
“It’s Sunday.” She struggled to keep her voice calm and even. “We usually have the day off and Bill runs the store alone, although he seems to have disappeared so it’s closed today.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why? Did you need something?”
“Yeah.” His voice softened, and their eyes met. Caught in the intensity of his gaze, Evie was drawn back to the first time she realized her feelings for him went beyond friendship. After school one warm spring afternoon they’d climbed their favorite tree to check out a robin’s nest. As always, Zane went down first. But that time, when he wrapped his hands around her waist to help her, something changed. Warmed by the press of his hands on her body, she stared into his dark eyes, and knew deep in her soul she was exactly where she was meant to be. In that moment, the world shifted irrevocably between them, and when he let her go, she felt instantly bereft.
After that afternoon, she’d made up excuses to touch him—brushing her thigh against his leg when they sat on Jagger’s couch, a hand on his arm when she lost her balance, a gentle stroke on his hair to remove an imaginary leaf—and every time she felt the rush, a curious sizzle that went straight to her core. But except for that brief moment when he’d held her, his eyes soft, his breath warm on her cheek, he never treated her as anything more than a friend.
Until the night he ran away.
“What are you looking for?” She looked down, letting her hair cover her face so he couldn’t see the flush in her cheeks. “I have a few hours free this afternoon, and since Bill isn’t there, I don’t mind going in to help you out. Ty … my son … is with a friend.”
“Paint.”
God, this was as bad as getting Ty to tell her about his day at school. “Do you need to buy paint or are you looking for artwork?”