Gage chuckles but covers his mouth and keeps his eyes to the floor.
“I need to get Lucas the hell out of here before he gets stripped and taken advantage of.” Cody grins and slaps Gage on the back. “Fuck, man. Who knew you had that kind of game. I thought Sam was gonna rip me apart to get at you.”
I catch the hint of a sly grin, but luckily Gage only shrugs.
“She was still fired up when I left her.” He motions toward me. “Bartender chick said settle up. I’ll drop your cash at the bar, and you can head home.”
“But what about Lucas?”
Cody scratches his jaw. “Shit, that’s right. You take him home.”
Gage’s eyes meet mine. Great, alone in my truck with Gage.
“Fine.” I pull out my tickets, do a little math, and shove a wad of cash at Cody. “There.”
“All right. Get Casanova here home safely.” He pulls Gage into a playful headlock.
His body goes stiff and his fists ball.
Crap!
I tug the sleeve of Gage’s sweatshirt, freeing him from my brother before Gage does something he’ll regret. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
GAGE
I should just pull back and let Luke take over.
Here in Shyann’s truck, the scent of her rain-soaked skin intensifies and surrounds me in the smell of her fruity girl shampoo along with a lingering hint of stale booze and smoke. After tonight I’m wondering if I misjudged the woman. Maybe she’s safe? I peer over at her from the corner of my eye and internally slap myself for being a dumbass.
Who the fuck am I kidding.
She’s a walking, talking, hell-on-wheels threat to everything Luke has managed to build here. A few weeks ago he’d never step foot into a bar, drink himself dizzy, and risk touching a woman, but that’s exactly where I found him. What’s worse is this agonizing tingling in my chest, the constant weight in my balls, and the throb of rushing blood that aches to touch her is driving me insane.
All bad.
Every-fucking-thing about this woman screams danger of epic proportions. A woman only has the power to destroy you if you give it to her.
That’s not gonna happen.
Not on my watch.
The truck bumps through puddles of mud, and the visibility through the rain and the dark is next to zero. I grind my teeth. Sitting bitch in this truck, being driven by a woman like I’m some kind of invalid, I should cut my own balls off for the offense. I’d grab her by the throat and make her pull over if I thought she’d listen. Experience has proved she won’t.
And I can’t fight with her because her resistance makes me hard. It makes me want to break her, tear her down piece by fucking piece to make her compliant. That smart mouth, fake confidence she hides her terror behind, it’s all hot as hell.
Damn her for making me feel something, anything.
Yeah, I don’t want to fight with her.
I just wanna get the fuck out of the car.
I should’ve let Luke take over back there. Should’ve backed off and let him stumble through the rest of the night, but he’s not strong enough to fight this witch’s spell.
He’s not.
But I am.
She clears her throat. “Can I ask you something?”
“No.”
“Why not— Oh, wait. I don’t care.”
“Then stop talk—”
“Where’d you get the scar from?” So matter of fact when she’s asking something personal and none of her fucking business.
“Shark attack.”
“Oh yeah? I hear those San Bernardino sharks are insanely vicious.”
Don’t smile, you fucking pussy.
“It’s cool. You don’t have to tell me. I’ll ask Lucas.” There’s a hint of challenge in her voice. A tone that says, Dare me.
“He won’t tell you either.”
She shrugs and her headlights shine on the cabin up ahead as we round the corner. “We’ll see,” she whispers.
I hide my smile into my shoulder. He might be able to tell her how it got there, but he can’t share details because he wasn’t there the night we got the scar.
I was.
I remember the entire thing, details etched into my mind like tattoos, imprinted and worn as a reminder to never forget.
Never trust.
And always keep my mouth shut.
She puts the truck in park but leaves it running. “How about this . . .”
I check her out from the corner of my eye, intent on keeping my eyes forward because, like Medusa, looking directly at her turns my dick to stone, and frankly I don’t need that shit right now.
“Tell me why you protected me from Dustin—”
“Fuckin’ hell.” I shake my head.
“. . . and why you didn’t want to leave me alone with Sam.”
“This again.” This bitch is like an alien, constantly probing my shit. “Let it go, Shy—”
“Why won’t you just answer me?”