“You gave some stranger a date? What does he have that I can’t give you?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what?”
“I wanted to come first. I wanted the experience. A man showing up his best and giving his best. To me.”
“I can do that,” he says, sure of himself.
“And then what?”
“Then you decide. If you choose me, I will go to war with Carmen.”
I search his face.
For lies.
For manipulation.
For control.
All I see is a man who looks like he hasn’t slept.
And behind that, something worse.
A man who’s afraid to choose.
“Tomorrow,” I say finally. “One date.”
Relief flashes across his face before he hides it.
“Tomorrow.”
I step back, leash hand tightening around Disco without thinking like the bird is an anchor.
“You don’t own me,” I remind him.
He nods once. “Not yet.”
The words send an unwanted curl of heat through my stomach. Disco whistles and mutters, “¡Ay Dios!” like he’s scandalized.
Diablo walks me back to the Harley.
As I climb on again, Disco hops back to my shoulder, harness secure, crest up like he’s a tiny king returning to his throne.
I glance back toward the dark ocean.
Somewhere in the city, Carmen is watching the ripple effects of this moment. She will see the live. She will hear the story. She will smell blood in the water.
And just now, with sand in my heels and Diablo’s heat returning, something becomes painfully clear.
This is not just about love.
This is about territory.
Chapter 13
Darling
