Copper: On my way.
She frowned. Did her dad’s text have to do with Saint? Was he on his way to tell her he’d stripped Saint’s patch?
No. He wouldn’t.
Copper: Zach too. Don’t leave.
What the hell?
“Hello? Are you even listening? You’re not texting Saint, are you?” Mel’s voice dropped low and accusatory. She craned her neck, trying to get a peek at Beth’s phone.
Beth blinked as she flipped the screen face down on the table. “What? No. It was my dad.” She shifted her gaze to Lindsey. “He and Zach are coming here. They said not to leave.”
“Shit.” Lindsey set her sandwich down, looking at Beth with concern. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Maybe Saint is with them.”
Lindsey scoffed. “Even if he is, something isn’t right. This won’t be the time for flirting, Mel.”
Shrugging, Melody sipped her iced tea. “I’m sure I’ll make it work.”
Okay, she could leave any time now. Too bad Beth wasn’t mean enough to ask her to go.
They ate in silence for the next few minutes. She and Lindsey exchanged troubled glances every few seconds, while Melody probably fantasized about Saint’s dick.
Which Beth could attest was a very nice dick.
Not the time.
About five minutes later, the atmosphere in the restaurant changed. Customer chatter fell to whispers and murmurs, punctuated by pointing and wide-eyed stares.
The Handlers had arrived.
Beth glanced right to find Zach andwell, shit—Saint striding their way. Her breath caught. He moved through the restaurant like he owned every inch of it, all that barely-leashed power on display, and her body responded before her brain caught up. Heat pooled low in her belly. Her worry abated, but her heart kept racing for an entirely different reason.
Melody gasped. “Called it.” She sat straighter, pouting her lips.
Saint looked incredible, navigating through the restaurant, not giving a shit about the stares and comments. Tall, strong, tattooed, and oozing confidence and capability from every pore. His fierce expression matched the rumors about him being tough, ruthless, and brutal. But Beth knew there were layers to the man. He was protective to the extreme, without smothering her or making her feel overshadowed. And when he touched her with those hands that were skilled at violence and destruction, he did so with nothing but the intent to bring extreme pleasure.
Zach went straight to Lindsey while Saint came to stand behind Beth’s chair, sending a thrill down her spine.
“Where’s my dad?” she asked, peering up at him.
“Hey, Saint, you’re looking good,” Mel cooed.
Beth could have smacked her.
He rested his hands on Beth’s shoulders, giving a reassuring squeeze, or maybe holding her back. To anyone else, it would look like a friendly gesture, but he circled his thumb along the back of her shoulder, out of sight of the others. The subtle caress had her fighting a shiver.
“Hey, Mel.” Then he looked down. “He’s outside on the phone with Shell.”
Beth studied his troubled expression. “Is everything okay? You look tense.”
His hands were warm and huge, cupping her entire shoulder joint. She wanted them everywhere. Wanted them to slide down her chest and cup her breasts right here in the middle of this restaurant. Wanted him to pinch and play with her nipples until she begged him for more, consequences be damned.
Shit, she really had it bad for this guy.
