Oil, metal, and thetang of exhaust hung in the air as Viper stepped into the car repair shop owned by the MC.The familiar smells usually settled him, but not today.
It had been a week since he’d dragged Mara out of her mess.A week since he’d promised to keep her safe.She was working now, tucked behind the counter of the shop.
Mara was answering phones, logging invoices, helping keep the books straight.Said she didn’t want to sit around his room doing nothing.
Viper told her it wasn’t necessary.She’d told him she wasn’t a charity case.He’d backed off.That’s why he was supposedly here.He told himself it was just to check on operations.Maybe to make sure no one gave her trouble, nothing more.
As his boots hit the oil-stained concrete and he caught sight of her through the glass partition with her head bent and hair falling over her face while she flipped through a ledger, something in his chest went tight.
Hell.He shouldn’t have come.
“Your bike need repairs?”King asked.
Viper turned, jaw tightening.King stood by the hood of a half-disassembled Chevy, wiping his hands on a rag.His old friend’s mouth curved into that knowing grin that always meant trouble.
“Forgot you’d be here,” Viper muttered.
“Yeah, I bet you did.”King tossed the rag onto the workbench.“So?You gonna tell me what’s wrong with your bike, or you just here sniffing around?”
Viper grunted, heading toward one of the lifts.“Needs a tune-up.Been running rough,” Viper answered.
King snorted.“Sure it does.”He followed, boots echoing on the concrete.“Or maybe you’re here to check on Mara.”
Viper didn’t look at him.“Don’t start.”
“Can’t help it, brother.Everyone’s been talking.”
That got Viper’s attention.He turned.“Talking about what?”Viper asked.
King shrugged, clearly enjoying himself.“About the woman you’re keeping in your room,” King answered.
“I’m not keeping her there,” Viper shot back, sharper than he meant to.“She’s there for her protection.”
“Uh-huh.And you just happen to be the one protecting her.”King leaned against the workbench, crossing his arms.“Hell, man, I get it.She’s a looker.But the whole ‘damsel in distress under my roof’ thing?Not exactly your usual.”
Viper exhaled slowly through his nose.King was trying to rile him up, same as always, but the worst part was he wasn’t wrong.
Mara was complicated.Every time he looked at her, something twisted inside him.He’d spent nights listening to her breathing just a few feet away, trying to remind himself she was off-limits.That she needed safety, not another man to screw up her life.
Still, his control was wearing thin.Especially since she’d started insisting the bed was big enough for two.She didn’t know what that did to him.The sight of her curled under his sheets, the way she’d look at him like he wasn’t just a scarred-up bastard with too much blood on his hands.
King’s voice broke through his thoughts.“What’s her story anyway?”
Viper didn’t answer.Viper turned his gaze back toward Mara’s desk.She was talking on the phone now, her voice soft but confident. She smiled at something the caller said, and Viper felt it, that low thrum in his chest he couldn’t explain.
King repeated, louder this time, “Viper.You hear me?”
He blinked, dragged his gaze away.“What?”
“I asked what her story is.”
Viper hesitated.There wasn’t much point lying, not to King.He’d find out anyway.
“Her name’s Mara,” he said finally.“Daughter of the Blood Vultures’ president.”
King’s easy grin disappeared.“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
