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Vice kicked a pebble. “Mr. I’ll-never-tie-myself-to-no-pussy, now look what’s happened. Mature Lynx is no fun.” Once to the door, he lifted his huge biker boot and kicked it in.
I could hear some scuffling, and then the curtains were pulled open. With Vice and Dagger fighting two Italians in the dark room behind him, the streetlamp shone down on Pops as he flipped me off.
I couldn’t hold back my laugh as I mumbled, “Bastard,” thankful these men had my back. I was going to need it.
“Did you guys sleep well?” asked Elle as we sat in a Waffle House booth.
Across from her was Pops, drowning pancakes in syrup. “Like. A. Rock.”
No one mentioned her screams in the night. We didn’t want her to feel bad for waking us.
Dagger, also across from her, grunted, “Oh yeah, me too.” He blew on a steaming cup of coffee, then took a sip that had him hissing. “Yes, Java. Make it all better.”
Sitting in a chair at the end of the table, Vice’s mouth was crammed full of sausage and scrambled eggs, to the point his lips couldn’t meet in the middle, but he nodded. “Eh’ ‘oo.”
Wincing through a smile, Elle giggled while reaching across me to hand him a napkin. “I think you may need this.”
That got us all laughing at him.
“And you?” shyly asked Elle, sitting next to me. “You sleep well?”
I woke early in the morning to her snuggling to my side, which led to kissing, therefore, I now was smiling like a damn fool. “Yeah, the second part of my night was just right.” As I thought about how her sensual mouth was beyond any I’d ever experienced, and her taste was soul-shattering, the morning sun shone through the large window, making her glow. Her luscious blonde hair was tucked in a ballcap, and sexy-as-fuck slanted eyes were covered in big sunglasses, but to me, she still couldn’t have been more stunning.
Studying Elle and me, Pops filled his fork with pancakes. “How’d you sleep, Precious?”
Bashfully, she smiled as she pushed food around on her plate. “My second half was much better, too.”
Ego?
Check!
Not one man at the table missed the sudden blush on her sun-kissed ivory cheeks. I wondered if she was thinking about kissing me again as she nervously licked her delicate, full lips. In fact, I was fighting the urge to lean over for a sample until she peered up and froze.
Like a missile locking onto a target, my eyes raced to what was scaring her.
When my upper lip snarled, Pops shook his head. “Are you kidding me?” He tossed a used napkin to the table and then looked over his shoulder.
There they were. Two fucking Italians in dark suits. Dark hair perfectly combed back. Blackout sunglasses—while indoors. Waiting for a table, they gazed about as if we weren’t there—as if we weren’t the reason they were in this restaurant.
We hadn’t told Elle that Lorenzo had already located us because we knew the reaction it would cause.
This one.
Elle’s whole body now trembled. She frantically turned around in her seat, searching for a place to hide. The quiet mewl of fear she was making was heart-wrenching.
I couldn’t afford to feed the Italians any information, so I only whispered to her, “Don’t show weakness.”
Was that a cold thing to say? Maybe, but her life was on the line.
Not that my reaction mattered because Elle was not even listening to me. Her breath was short and strained. “Is there a back way out of here?”
As if Elle wasn’t having some sort of meltdown in front of him, Dagger casually hissed over his shoulder, “Who do they think they are? Men in Black?”
Pops chuckled at the movie reference and said, “They’re about to be Men in Ground.”
Elle suddenly stared at them like they were insane. Then she whisper-growled, “How are you bozos so calm?”
My heart bloomed. Pops was back to his method called Piss Elle Off. And my girl was back, insults making her as unhinged as we were.
