Page 35 of Slick Trip

After fifteen minutes of driving, we found a place serving hot breakfast. Jon’s ridiculous muscle mass meant he needed protein and eggs and whatever men who looked like bodyguards were supposed to eat. I had no such concerns. My body ran primarily on sugar and caffeine.

I was in line to refill my coffee when an older man cut in front of me. Earlier, he had given me a look filled with contempt, muttering a very derogatory word under his breath. Now, he shoved me aside, telling me to get my coffee from another line. I lost my balance and stumbled into the wall.

“Hey,” I snapped. “You pushed me!”

The man once again raked his beady eyes over me, stopping at my rainbow bracelets. His mouth thinned into a line before he opened it to say something undoubtedly nasty. But before he could utter a syllable, a shadow fell over us.

Jon.

“Touch him again and I’ll drag you outside by your fucking hair and beat you into a coma,” he said, sounding so calm that it took the man a while to understand. Before I could even blink, Jon hauled me into the hard shelter of his body.

I let him hold me. No, that was an understatement. I leaned into him, my nose catching his scent that seemed to settle the upset buzzing under my skin.

His touch made me feel safe and protected, almost like he had claimed me in front of everyone. I had no idea what was happening, but I wasn’t about to complain. I gave the man my meanest scowl, feeling untouchable with Jon’s arm around me. A smug certainty settled over me—Jon would level this entire breakfast buffet if that guy so much as touched a hair on my head. If I were a cat, I would’ve purred. Something close to that escaped my mouth, making Jon press me tighter against him.

The man took one look at Jon and visibly gulped. He turned to leave, but Jon caught his wrist.

“Apologize.”

His low command resonated deep inside me. I grazed his fingertips with mine, briefly, but he noticed—and pulled me closer.

The man stuttered an apology and left.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked.

I blinked, slightly taken aback by his intensity.

“Yeah,” I managed to say, a little breathlessly. “Thank you for—whatever that was.” I opened my mouth to add that I’d had it under control, but ended up not saying it. Because it wasn’t true, and because I was feeling ridiculously smitten.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Jon said, sounding serious. I knew there was a sensible explanation for this—he’d promised Jack to look after me—but I still appreciated the way his thumb traced a slow line against the small of my back. For a moment, neither of us did anything. I barely dared to breathe, not wanting to ruin the rare moment of peace between us. We stood there for a while, probably looking like two idiots who didn’t know how to behave at a breakfast buffet.

“Go sit,” he finally said. “I’ll bring your coffee.”

I blinked, my knees feeling like jelly.

“O—okay.”

A minute later, he returned with the coffee and a blueberry muffin. He didn’t even mention the Nutella croissant I’d already demolished. He just sat there eating his sensible things.

“Come on, live a little. Take a bite of my muffin,” I said.

“No, thank you.”

I sighed. “Why are you so boring?”

Jon’s smile dimmed, and I felt a pang of guilt.

“I didn’t mean it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’re not boring at all.”

“It’s okay. I know I’m not fun to be around,” he said, shrugging. “I wasn’t raised to enjoy much of anything.”

Now I felt like a monster. “You are fun! You’re an absolute hoot.”

He snorted, a real, genuine sound that made something inside me spark. “A hoot? That’s a first.”

The half-fond, half-exasperated way he looked at me made the air heavy with unspoken things. It also made me blush.

“Is it okay if I drive first?” I asked when we got back outside.