“Nya,” I manage. “My name is Nya.”
“Nya.” He tests the sound of it like a promise. “You gonna run away from me now, Nya?”
Ishould.I should run straight back to my booth and bury myself in daisies and pretend this never happened.
But his hand is still on my waist. The warmth of his palm seeps through my sweater. People are still watching, but for once I don’t care what they think.
“No,” I say. “I don’t think I want to run.”
His lips curl. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s close.
“Good.”
He reaches up and adjusts my scarf as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Then he leans in again, and kisses me.
This time, there’s no hesitation. His mouth takes mine like heownsit. His tongue slides slow and deep, and I melt. My knees weaken. My hands clutch at his chest. My body hums with heat.
When he pulls away, I’m breathless.
And alreadyhis.
Chapter 2
Caleb
""Yougonnatelluswhat the hell that was?" Havoc’s voice cuts through the laughter rolling through the Damned Saints' lair.
He pushes off the bar and makes his way to the back table, beer in hand, one dark brow raised. Havoc's our club president, a former Recon Marine built like a battering ram.
His hair's cropped military short, his beard longer, and he treats the men under his command like brothers. Which means he breaks our balls often and without mercy.
I drop into a chair, stretching my bad leg out under it. The ride back from the square was short, but the old injury flares every damn time the weather shifts or I spend too long on my feet. Today was both.
Spent half the day staking out the festival crowd, watching for a handoff tied to a cartel shipment we’ve been tracking. I had just decided to plant myself for a bit when she showed up.
Nya.
Sunshine, as I called her. As I’ll keep calling her.
She was all curves and calm chaos. Apron full of flowers. Hair full of wild curls. Hips like a prayer, sway like sin.
I’d seen her before in town. Moving like she had a different rhythm than the rest of the world. She never looked at me twice. Not that I blame her. Most women give me a wide berth.
Not that I would have let them close anyway. But with her, it was different. She felt like something I shouldn’t want. Too innocent. Too soft.
But today, she sat down beside me without hesitation. And when her head dropped against my shoulder and her breathing evened out, like shetrustedme, I didn’t move a muscle. Not even to shift my weight. Like if I breathed wrong, she’d vanish.
"Explain what?" I say, already regretting not walking straight up to my room.
"Explain why the girl from the flower shop is claiming you in front of half the town," Havoc drawls. "Then you claim her right back."
Viper, our road captain, slides into the seat across from me, grinning. "Never thought I’d see the day the Ghost puts on a show."
I grunt.
The clubhouse is buzzing. Prospects shoot pool under flickering lights. Country music hums low from the jukebox. Smoke curls up from cigars. The scent of leather, sweat, beer, and barbecue clings to the walls.
Earlier today, we wrapped a meet with an informant about a cartel shipment coming through the mountains next week. But, somehow, me pulling a woman into my lap is tonight’s headline.
