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He called me his woman last night, and I liked that. A little too much. If he took it back this morning, I would have cried. My one perfect night would have ended in tears and regret and heartache. I didn't want that. If all I can have of him is one perfect night, I wanted it to stay perfect. I wanted my last memory of the night to be of him naked in his bed, all rumpled and sexy and blissful. And last night was perfect… even if he did threaten to shoot the waiter.
He materializes from the cruiser, sending my heart into overdrive. It swan-dives toward my stomach, then floats toward my throat. He's mad as hell… and hot as Hades as he slams his car door and stomps toward me.
Oh, boy.
I hit the button to let my window down.
"License and registration," he growls, holding out his hand once he reaches my window.
"I can explain."
"Why you were going twenty over? Or why you ran a stop sign? License and registration," he says again.
Neither, actually. I'm a terrible driver.
"You're mad," I whisper instead of admitting to that.
He meets my gaze, his dark eyes blazing with heat. "No, little firecracker," he says, his voice quiet. "I was mad when I woke up this morning to find my woman had snuck out on me. I was pissed when I tried to track her down only to find out she was working in Houston today. Right now, I'm about two seconds from bending her over the front end of my cruiser and spanking her on the side of the fucking road."
"I freaked out!" I cry, and then slap a hand over my mouth.
He eyes me sideways, his expression softening incrementally. "Explain."
"I like you, Dillon," I say, marshaling my courage. "A lot. And I woke up in your bed, worried that maybe this was just a one-night stand to you. I didn't want to hear you tell me that, so I left before you woke up. But then I regretted it. By then, though, I was already halfway to Houston and wasn’t sure how to fix it." I inhale a quick breath. "I just got back to town."
He watches me for a long moment, his expression inscrutable, and then he motions with his hand again. "License and registration, Jules."
My heart plummets. I snuck out of his bed this morning and ruined everything. Now, he really is done with me. I pop my eyes open wide to keep from crying in front of him and reach blindly for my license and registration before passing them over to him.
"Don't move a muscle," he orders me.
I bob my head in a defeated nod, staring blankly out of the windshield. I should have listened to my heart this morning instead of my stupid head and stayed in the bed with him. Now, all I'll ever have of him is one perfect night.
I'm not sure how long I wait for him to return, but it both feels like a century and not long enough before he steps up beside my Lexus again, holding my license and registration out to me, alongside a ticket.
"Go home and get some sleep," he orders me when I take it from him with trembling hands. "You can pay this after the baby's surgery tomorrow."
I blink up at him without even looking at the ticket.
"You know about Scout's surgery tomorrow?" Scout is the newborn fighting for her life. She's having surgery in Houston tomorrow morning, and I'm assisting. Tate is in love with her aunt, and I promised him I'd be there. I'm worried as hell that something is going to go wrong and we're going to lose her. If we do, it's going to destroy Tate.
"Tate told me," he says. "Go home, little firecracker." His eyes narrow on me. "Slowly."
"Can… can we talk later?"
"After you pay your ticket," he says and then taps the side of my car and strides away. It might be my imagination, but I think he's smiling.
Not sure what that's about, I glance down at my ticket. An entire flock of butterflies burst into flight in my stomach, a delighted laugh burbling from my lips when I see that he's ticketed me for theft of the heart.
Maybe, just maybe, I didn't ruin everything after all.
CHAPTERSIX
DILLON
It’s been a goddamn day and evening from hell. My mind and fucking heart have been in Houston with my little firecracker all day long. I know how much she was dreading today, and it kills me that I couldn’t do anything to help ease her load. I take a swig of my room temperature beer and wince. This tastes like roadkill. After pouring it down the drain, I stare at the clock, wondering if I’ll hear something tonight.
All my contacts inside the Silver Spoon MC are already at the hospital with Hands, his new lady love, Samara, and her newborn niece, Scout. Frustration cuts through me as I debate calling Cash or Cowboy to find out what the fuck is going on. If anything bad happens to that child, my little firecracker will lose her mind.
