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He was quiet, turning his glass of Coke around in circles. She hadn’t even noticed that Blake had given it to him, too focused on their conversation to notice. Luke’s expression was intent, his brow furrowed, and she got the impression that he was trying to decide whether he should tell her his true motives. But in the end, he shook his head, and she knew no amount of asking would get him to change his mind.
“I don’t really want to talk about it. I just feel like it’s my responsibility to take care of those weaker than me. Let’s leave it at that.”
Tarun’s spine instantly straightened, ire flooding through her as she shot him a look that let him know how much she disliked his words. “Those weaker than you? And what in the hell makes you think that just because we’re women, we’re weaker?”
Luke froze, the words oh shit echoing through his head. He’d been so determined to try to make nice and not offend her. He figured if she was staying, he needed to bury his anger over her continued presence and be friendly. If she wasn’t upset with him, she’d be more likely to let him stick close to her. Giving him the chance to make sure he was there to protect her as much as he could be.
But hell if he hadn’t just shoved his big foot in his mouth so hard, he was choking on it.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, the look in her hazel eyes challenging, the green more pronounced and taking over. He bet that was her tiger’s eye color, and the longing to see her in tiger form, those green eyes daring him just as they were now, caught him off guard.
“Oh? Then by all means, tell me exactly what you meant by that.”
Clearing his throat, he tore his eyes from hers before the foreign urges he felt consumed him. “Women are strong. Don’t get me wrong about that. But men are, by the very definition of our nature, stronger. Women are nurturers. Men are fighters. Even those of us who aren’t in the career field I’m in are more prone to fight than most of the women I’ve met over the course of my lifetime. We’re better equipped for it. That’s all I meant. Being more delicate isn’t a bad thing, Tarun. Not at all.”
“Delicate is almost as bad as weaker,” she muttered with a roll of her expressive eyes. “Have you forgotten that I’m a War Cat? My tribe is born and bred for fighting. We have the most powerful warriors in the world.”
“Maybe, but have you ever trained to be a warrior? Not so long ago, it was forbidden for the women. Arya, who’s second in the warrior lineup now, secre
tly trained for it. But did you? I met you early on during my time there. I observed everyone, took in the dynamics. I never saw you be anything other than a sweet girl who followed the rules. And that’s the distinction.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he knew he somehow stuck his foot in it again. “Sweet girl? Really? You sure have this uncanny ability to insult without even meaning to. No, I didn’t physically train. But I watched constantly. Jamie’s the head trainer, and he showed me some moves. I picked up a hell of a lot, just watching, and you’d do best to not underestimate me.”
He nodded, conceding the point. “You’re probably right about that. But even taking away the difference between men and women, you have to acknowledge that someone who’s watched people training simply can’t be as good as a someone who’s physically trained.”
The ire slowly drained from her eyes as she studied him, but her nod was still grudging. “I’ll give you that. But you can’t convince me that women can’t be as fierce as men when it comes to fighting. Maybe even more so.”
His lion hummed inside him. She’s worthy.
Wait, what? Worthy of what?
His animal was frustratingly silent inside of him, but he shook it off. Maybe the surprises of the day were just getting to him, because he was tempted to read more into his cat’s words than was probably there. Focusing on Tarun again, he pursed his lips while he thought.
“I just don’t want you to feel compelled to stay. I know your gift is telling you the odds of us coming out winners are better if you’re here. But Jameson also told me once you’re really big on helping people, whether they want it or not. I don’t want you getting hurt just because you feel like you need to help me. To help the Enforcers.”
Lips tightening, her hand clenched around her glass before she relaxed it. “My brother has a big mouth. Look, I won’t lie to you and say that wasn’t a small part of why I made the decision to come here. But it was only a small part of the whole. If the only thing separating your crew, separating you, from death or destruction is me, then I have to be here. Please understand that.”
Nodding slowly as he considered her, he finally blew out a breath. “Okay. But you also need to understand that I’m going to be sticking close to you while you’re here. You’ll need to resign yourself to having a shadow until you go back home.”
A smile played upon her full lips as she glanced at him flirtatiously from underneath her eyelashes. “Who says I’ll have to resign myself to anything? Maybe I want you that close. Maybe I’ll enjoy it. Did you think about that?”
Sputtering as his mouthful of Coke went down the wrong pipe, he coughed, his eyes watering. Where the hell had that minx version of Tarun come from? And fuck if her words didn’t shoot heat straight through his veins, heading directly south. He squirmed a little on his stool as it pooled in his groin, making his jeans suddenly seem unbearably tight.
Thank fuck Blake chose that moment to deliver their food. He sat the plates down in front of them, his amused glance directed at Luke, and it was clear he heard her words. Shit, that was just what he needed. More ammunition for Blake to think there was more to the situation between him and Tarun than there was.
Isn’t there, though? his lion asked.
Stop with the cryptic shit, he replied with irritation. If you have something to say, just fucking say it.
“You two enjoy your meals. Let me know if you need anything,” Blake said, shooting one more amused and speculative glance Luke’s way before moving down the bar to take a drink order.
Clearing his throat, he prayed his voice would come out normal as he handed her the ketchup bottle. “Excellent choice with the burger.”
Her smirk told him she knew he was avoiding her words, but as he looked closer, he noticed a faint pink tinge to her cheeks. Instantly feeling better, a slight smile graced his lips. It was only fitting that she feel uncomfortable after ensuring he felt that way.
The question in the back of his mind, though, was why was she uncomfortable? Because she said something uncharacteristic for her, or because her words invoked the same feelings in her that they did in him?
