Page 38 of Talk Wicked to Me

He glowered at her. “I’m not in the mood to be given shit.”

“No kidding,” she said sarcastically. “I saw the way you looked at her when she first came into the office.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought I knew all of your looks, but you had an expression I’ve never seen before. Like you couldn’t take your eyes off her.”

“She was a mess, practically hysterical, and her dog was wired. I was trying to figure out what was going on.”

“All right, we’ll go with that,” she said lightly. “But it seems to me you’re getting a little attached to both of them, and I know babies are a sensitive subject for you—”

“This isn’t that,” he growled, refusing to go there. “I just want to be sure they’re okay. It’s been hours since I texted.”

“Not everyone is a texter. Give her a break. You barely know her, and you’ve inserted yourself into her life like she’s your girlfriend. I’ve got to say, on one hand, it’s pretty freaking great to finally see you all twisted up over a woman. But on the other hand, she just had a baby. I’m sure she’s exhausted and feels like shit, and there’s a lot of pressure to look pretty with you hanging around.”

“I don’t treat her like a girlfriend. I’m doing the same kind of thing we’ve done for a hundred other people, and I don’t give a fuck what she looks like,” he bit out, pacing the floor.

“Why are guys so stupid?” She huffed out a breath. “It’s not about you giving a fuck. It’s about what’s in women’s heads. When a guy as hot as you are is around, it creates pressure to look good.”

“You’ve never gotten dolled up around me.”

“Because I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not trying to hook up with her, and I’m sure sex is the last thing on her mind.”

“It’s not about sex. Forget I said anything. The idea that hot guys make women want to look good is obviously more than you can process at the moment.”

“You’re wrong, Evie. She has more to worry about than looking good for me.”

“Hm.” She tapped her chin, brows knitting. “Then I guess she’s one of the few women who are immune to your charms and good looks.”

He glowered at her. “Can we be done now?”

“No. I’m worried about you. You’re all growly, and that’s so not normal, it makes me uncomfortable. This might come as a surprise, but not every woman wants a pushy biker in her face all the time.”

“She has no one, Evie. No parents. No family. No friends in the area. No one.”

“I get that. But you do realize she’s a grown-ass adult, right? She chose to move where she doesn’t know anyone, and she chose to do it when she was almost ready to pop out a baby. Get your head out of your ass, Baz, and think about it. It’s worth considering that maybe she likes it that way. Maybe she’s one of those people who needs their space.”

He stopped pacing, mulling that over. He’d worried about her having a crazy ex or running from another bad situation, but once he’d settled those concerns, he’d been so intent on making sure she was taken care of, he’d lost track of the timing of her move and hadn’t slowed down enough to get to the bottom of it.

Fuck. “You might be right.”

“I usually am.” She pushed off the desk and looked up at him. “You know I love you, right?”

“’Course.”

“Then you know I’m saying this for your own good. Some people don’t want to be helped.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“No,” she said in a softer tone. “I just think you might not be seeing things very clearly right now. There could be a million reasons she’s not responding to you, and I know it bothers you, but they’re not your responsibility. Put that big heart of yours away for a night, and get out of here. Go have a beer with the guys, play some darts, and get your mind off her and the baby.”

He gritted his teeth, fighting against the inescapable force drawing him toward them.

“Hey.” She patted his chest. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah. You’re right.” He grabbed his motorcycle keys and helmet. “I need to get out of here.”