“If I was?”
She grins and shakes her head a little. “You’re incorrigible.”
“You like it,” I counter.
She shrugs a little, as if to sayyeah, and?
“You wanna take a ride with me?”
Her brows lift slightly. “Oh? Has there been a development?”
I shake my head. “Not that.”
She sets her cup down, leaning back just enough to look at me properly. “This is what then?”
“A little local community cleanup.”
She laughs as she picks up her coffee again. “What kind of cleanup? Save the sea turtles? Trash day?”
I nod once. “Oh, we’re taking out the trash.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, like she’s putting something together. “Wait. Did Gage tell you about what happened at the beach?”
“He did. And the locals. They’re pissed.”
Her mouth curves again. “And?”
“We’re gonna do something about it. I thought you might want to unleash some anger.”
Her eyes dance with mirth, her perfect pouty lips twisting up on one side. “Do I seem like I have a lot of pent up anger?”
I let my eyes move over her slowly. Take my time with it. She looks good enough to eat, and I’ve found that nothing will ever satiate my hunger for her.
“Don’t we all, baby?”
She hums, turning her cup in her hands. “What kind of cleanup are we talking?”
“Strap cutting, windshield smashing, tire slashing.”
Truthfully, I can’t fucking wait to see her like this. To find out what she tastes like with justice tangling with rage on her tongue. I bet it’s fucking delicious.
She huffs a small breath through her nose, shaking her head as she stands and grabs her cup for one last sip. “I’d almost forgotten how the Calloways are friendly neighborhood vigilantes.”
I stand up with her. “In Hollow Beach.”
She tosses her cup in the garbage. “Alright. Let’s go save the locals.”
I usher her out of the coffee shop she loves with a hand on her lower back. My fingers itch to find her bare skin, to feel how soft it is. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen her, and I feel like I’ve gone too long without a fix.
We round the corner where I parked my bike. I’d left it out of sight on purpose—tucked just far enough that I could watch her from the doorway before she knew I was there. It’s one of my favorite ways to look at her, second only to the way she looks when she’s drunk on me.
“I forgot you had a motorcycle,” she murmurs, fluttering her fingertips over the seat.
“After today you won’t.”
“What other secrets are you harboring, Rafe Calloway?” She grins when she says it.
“Too many to count.” It’s the truth.
