Page 48

Thank you.

Carefully, I fold it back into a star shape while warmth spreads through my chest. Standing in the kitchen and staring at the cute note that’s so Annie, I realize I’m head over heels in love with her.

I didn’t stand a chance at keeping my distance from her.

Hearing the door open, I glance up, and seeing Annie, the corner of my mouth lifts. “This is cute.”

“Yeah?”

She stops beside me, and pushing up on her tiptoes, she presses a kiss to my cheek. “Hi.”

I lift my hand, and brushing my finger over the tip of her freckled nose, I say, “Hi.”

“I came over earlier, but you weren’t home,” she says, her eyes caressing my face.

“I had something to take care of,” I reply vaguely.

For a long moment, we just stare at each other, and everything she makes me feel forms a chaotic tornado in my chest.

Attraction. Curiosity. Protectiveness. Anticipation. Desire. Nervous energy. Fear. Comfort.

The push and pull. The need to hold her and never let go.

Wrapping my fingers around the side of her neck, I ask, “What are you doing to me?”

Her lips curve up in a mischievous smile. “Hmm . . . I don’t know. You tell me.”

Leaning down, I press my mouth to hers. I don’t deepen the kiss, but also don’t pull away too fast. I savor the feel of her lips and inhale her comforting scent.

When I lift my head, it’s to see Miles staring at us on the other side of the pass-through, an angry expression tightening his features.

He shakes his head at me, then turns around and walks toward his office.

Miles better not think he can keep me away from Annie.

I turn my attention back to her beautiful face and brush my thumb over the line of her jaw. “Can we try again and go to the diner after work?”

She nods happily. “I’d like that very much.”

Annie pulls away from me, and a smile tugs at my mouth as I watch her go back to the front.

“Looks like love is in the air,” Harlan says with a teasing tone.

“Yep.” There’s a bounce in Annie’s step as she gets to work, and I have to tear my eyes away from her.

I grab everything I need from the freezer, and once Miles opens the bar, the orders come one after another. With it being a Friday, we stay busy right through the afternoon into the night.

I carry a plate of ribs and fries to the pass-through, and as I set it down, a patron by the bar counter says, “Brat, davay yeshcho po odnoy, noch’ tol’ko nachinayetsya.”

Hearing the guy ask his friend in Russian to stay for another drink because the night is young, my eyes flick toward them.

Three men. I don’t recognize them. One is wearing a tank top. An eight-pointed star on his shoulder.

A dead giveaway that he’s Bratva.

Fuck.

Annie