Page 64 of Coveted By Cupid

“Are you not hungry?” I ask with concern. Maybe he’s not feeling well.

“Huh?” Oaks looks up from his plate to meet my eyes. “Oh. Yeah, I’m starving. But I’ve learned my lesson a long time ago about eating a lot before handling club business.”

Marlene pats his tummy affectionately before adding, “Oaks has a sensitive stomach. Don’t cha, hubby?”

Cupid pops another fried green bean into his mouth. “Thank fuck I don’t. I couldn’t do my job if I did.”

The food in my gut curdles at their words. “What kind of upcoming club business are you dealing with that makes it hard to stomach eating beforehand?”

The table goes silent. Marlene and Oaks look sideways at each other, popping food into their mouths and ignoring my question. Cupid chews slowly, staring at his plate before swallowing loudly.

“Some things we do are best left unsaid,” Cupid finally says, his dark eyes meeting mine and chilling me to my core.

“Why?” I ask, trying to keep my anxiety in check, but the hairs on my neck stand at attention, regardless. “Is it…illegal?”

Cupid says nothing, but Oaks snorts, “Ha! What don’t we do that isn’t illegal?”

“Oaks,” Marlene hisses in warning.

Pushing my plate away, I turn in my seat to face Cupid. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I like her,” Marlene whispers to Oaks. “She’s direct.”

“Of course you would,” Oaks grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Stubborn women, the both of you.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Nothing I or the club does will negatively impact you,” Cupid says in a calm tone, placing his hand over mine. His touch is warm and soothing, yet guarded.

“Don’t tell me not to worry if you’re doing something that could get you into deep trouble,” I chide, annoyance seeping into my tone. “Do you honestly believe I’d be fine if something awful happened to you as a result of you doing whatever it is you’re planning?”

“Awww!” Oaks places a heavy palm over his heart, looking at his wife with a lovey-dovey expression. “She cares about him. Isn’t that cute?”

“Adorable,” Marlene says in agreement.

The corners of Cupid’s lips turn up a smidge. “Developing feelings for me already, are you?”

“Stop ignoring the question and answer me.”

He sighs, cupping my face with his free hand. I should pull back. The old me would. Yet, Cupid’s touch is calming, and I need it with how anxious I’m growing.

“For anything bad to happen to me or my crew would mean we didn’t handle business properly.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I always clean up after handling a matter, making it impossible for it to be linked back to me or my crew.”

My heart stalls as his words sink in. I already knew Cupid was dangerous. I’m only realizing how dangerous he is.

As if he can read the fear on my face, Cupid kisses me softly on the lips. “You never have to fear me, Vanessa. I would sooner die than hurt you. You’re my woman. Speaking of…” He holds his hand out to his VP expectantly.

With a giant grin on his face, Oaks hands him a garment bag over the back of his chair. Cupid takes the bag, unzips it, revealing a leather cut much smaller than the one he’s wearing. He pulls it out of the bag, shaking it out in front of me. The name Psyche is embroidered on a patch in blood-red over the heart of the vest in the front, the name I’ve heard him use a handful of times when addressing me.

Confused, I ask, “What’s this?”

“Protection and respect for you within this club and outside of it.”

I take the soft leather vest in my hands, running my fingers over the embroidered name. “How does this protect me?”

“Turn it over.”