Page 11 of Tiger Betrayal

Murph mouthed, What the hell? But all Laramie could do was shrug. She had no idea what was happening.

She and the sandwich made the trek together over the empty lot and to the tree line. It looked like roast beef today. She loved roast beef.

Her stomach growled. Breakfast had been a long time ago, because she’d woken up early to do a memory lane adventure right at sunrise.

She sat down in her spot in the back corner of the picnic table and watched Stellan stride across the lot with lunch and two drinks in his hands. His gait was powerful, and he had impeccable posture. Good Lord, that man was the hottest creature she’d ever seen.

Without a word, he sat directly across from her at the table, and unzipped his coveralls, then let the top half hang down to his waist as he started to unbag his sack lunch.

He was wearing a white T-shirt underneath that hugged the curves of his chiseled shoulders and biceps. Tattoos peeked out of his right sleeve.

“You don’t like the sandwich?” he asked, pulling her out of her staring contest with the single vein in his right bicep.

“Huh?”

“You aren’t hungry?” he asked.

“Oh! Uhh, I’m starving actually.” She lifted up the sandwich. “Thank you so much. I forgot my lunch today.”

“I know.”

She frowned, taking in his downturned face. It was best to just say what had been haunting her. “I can’t tell if you hate me or if you like me.”

“I’m mad at you,” he said, his gold eyes sliding to her and holding her trapped there in his gaze.

“Why?” she asked. “What did I do wrong?”

“You ruined my table.”

“This table?”

He set one of the sodas in front of her. “I was good out here. This is my spot to get away from the idiots in there, and now I don’t like it at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s only peaceful if you’re here now.”

Her mouth fell open.

Oh.

He wasn’t meeting her gaze now. He was looking at the table and took a bite of his sandwich.

“So, you don’t hate me?” she whispered.

“I wish I did.”

“You say mean things, and you don’t take them back,” she pointed out. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s who I am.” Those gold eyes found her again. “It’s time to be tough.”

Her eyebrows twitched up and it was her time to duck her gaze. “Rude again.” Laramie stood and gathered her lunch.

“Stay,” he gritted out.

She froze, wanting to leave, but also wanting to do as he asked, and stuck right in between.

When his eyes found her again, the glow was less, and the fire had died out. “Please,” he said softly.