Instead of giving her a solid foundation to rebuild on, her uncle’s response had been to send her away. As an adult, she could understand why a busy man opted out of raising two children, but that rejection had also instilled a need to prove herself to him. To everyone.
Focus now. Stop dwelling on what you can’t change. Your plan is to find the evidence, expose Hogan, and become invisible again. Just like you have been forever.
Having finished serving the table, she straightened, intending to return to the bar. When she ran straight into Bowen’s solid figure, she couldn’t contain a yelp of alarm. He steadied her with both hands on her elbows, gaze narrowed suspiciously. “You all right?”
“I’m fine, I just didn’t expect you to be standing there.”
“Okay.” He drew the word out. “I have to leave for a little while, but I’ll be right back.”
She tugged away and pasted on a casual smile. “Who’s going to glare at me from the bar while you’re gone?”
“Nobody better. If anyone does, you tell me.” After what seemed to be an internal debate, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her close again, as if offended to have her so far away.
“Think you can manage to kiss me without turning into a wildcat?”
A mere breath separated their lips.
“You didn’t seem to mind before.”
“Baby, you’re making me hard right when I need to walk out the door. It’s goddamn inconvenient.” He sampled her mouth with a wet tug of his lips. “Don’t stop.”
As though it were the most natural thing in the world, her hand slid up his chest and disappeared into his hair. He snaked his arm around her body so it rested against the small of her back and drew her close. So close. Their mouths came together on a groan. The sensual devastation reached to her toes, then slithered back up to settle between her legs. How could he do this to her? One minute he was the enemy; the next he drew
reactions
from
her
body,
scrambling her brain. Made her question everything she knew about herself.
Bowen released her mouth on a curse.
“Watching you work fucks me up. You have any idea what it does to me when you bend over a table and smile? It makes me want to pull up your skirt and turn that smile into a scream.”
His words shivered down her back.
“Do you talk to every girl like this?”
“I don’t even turn on the lights for other girls.”
Why did that kick up a spark of pleasure? It was just another line. She knew it and yet, combined with the way he looked at her, she felt like the only person in the room. “That’s just bad manners.”
Gray eyes twinkled. “They’re the only kind I have.”
“You’re confusing me, Bowen.” She took a deep breath. “I need to get back to work.”
When she tried to extricate herself, he didn’t budge. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” He rubbed their lips together. “Whisper it again in my ear, then I’ll go.”
“You’re a lunatic.” He simply raised an eyebrow and she sighed, annoyed at the traitorous smile playing around her mouth. Holding his shoulders for support, she pressed up on her toes and laid her mouth against his ear. After taking a moment to inhale his smoky leather scent, she let his name fall from her lips. “Bowen.”
He actually shook. The arm banding her waist tightened, and the breath whooshed from her lungs. Then just as quickly, he let her go. “I’ll be right back.”
All she could do was nod.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bowen bit the inside of his cheek to silence the screaming in his head, the churning sickness in his stomach. His knuckles ached and he needed to wash them off before he saw Sera. It helped to think about her, so he hung on to the image of her lying in the middle of his guest bed. Any minute, he would get out of this car full of jackasses bragging about
the
beatdowns
they’d
just
delivered and see her again. And maybe she’d let him pretend like earlier. Maybe she’d let him kiss her and call her Ladybug and fantasize they weren’t so different. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Not one fucking certainty in his life, except for pain. The giving of it and the receiving of it. Not a day went by anymore where he didn’t condone the use of violence. As a teenager and even through his early twenties, he’d loved fighting. Lived for it. He’d loved the fact no one ever got the drop on him; he could use his fists to get out of any situation. That time had long passed, and now it was work. The kind of work that breaks you down until nothing registers.
For a while now, he’d experienced slips into numbness. It got a little easier every time, to issue the order. A little easier to think of people as dollar signs instead of living, breathing human beings with souls.
Had he been born with a soul? He’d often wondered if it were possible to walk upright, communicating and living life with just the idea of where his soul should be. Worse, did people see that lack in him? Is that why everyone left in the end?
An image of the woman, hair streaked full of pink, replaced Sera in his mind, but he grabbed on to her and held tight, the way he wished he could do in real life. He didn’t want to think about the woman or why she’d left or if it had been something he could have prevented.
Something
he
could
have