Page 24 of Wade’s Wrath

“Yep,” he whispered.

“You could get hurt,” she said.

He shrugged. “That’s possible.”

“Why are you acting like none of this matters?” she asked.

“Because you're acting like Frank's the scariest motherfucker walking the planet,” he pointed out.

“He is to me.” Those four words stopped him cold. Wade crossed the kitchen slowly, and Harlow watched him approach. He stopped on the opposite side of the island.

“Not anymore,” he said.

She swallowed. “You can't know that.”

“Yeah, I can,” Frank said.

“How?” she asked.

“Because now he's got to go through us.” Harlow stared at him, and Wade saw tears gather in her eyes. “Don't,” he warned.

She blinked over at him. “Don't what?”

“Don’t cry,” he said.

“I wasn't going to,” she lied.

“Bullshit,” he said.

She wiped angrily beneath one eye. “Maybe I'm tired and overwhelmed.”

“Probably,” he agreed. He felt the exact same way.

“And you're being weirdly nice,” she insisted.

Wade frowned. “Take that back.” She laughed through the tears—there, that was better. Wade liked her laughing. Hell, he liked it way too fucking much.

He stepped away from the island. “Eat, shower, and then we'll head to the clubhouse.”

“I don't have clothes,” she reminded.

“We'll stop somewhere and get you some,” he offered.

“With what money?” she asked. Wade looked at her, and she lifted her chin. “My father will have frozen my cards by now.”

“Then I'll pay,” he offered.

“No,” she quickly said. “I don't need you buying me clothes.”

“Unless you plan on showing up to the clubhouse wearing my shirt and nothing else, yeah, you do,” he insisted.

Her cheeks turned bright red, and Wade smiled. “Stop looking at my legs.”

“I wasn’t looking at your legs,” he lied.

“Liar,” she countered.

“Didn't say I hadn't looked before now, though.” Her mouth fell open, and Wade laughed as he returned to the stove before she could throw something at him.