Page 138 of Back in the Saddle

I’d never heard Eric’s voice rumble like that. It was low. It was abrasive.

And it was hot.

“He was teaching me a lesson about my vulnerability as an Angel,” I informed him.

“He couldn’t let you be who you are, do what you need to do, and just look after your ass like my crew does?”

Right.

I parked my car in his garage. He proclaimed himself my “man.” He rolled out to rescue me.

But we were still only days in.

Even so.

I didn’t know the distinction. I already knew I was in love with him, in that first blush, he’s gorgeous, he’s a great kisser, he won’t let me reach too far for my wine, he’ll go out and spend his Sunday looking for my selfish, ungrateful brother, kind of way.

But I was still actively falling for this guy.

I wasn’t sure how that worked. Maybe, if Eric and I went the distance, I’d spend a lifetime constantly falling deeper and deeper for him.

And in that moment, that sounded like a good life plan to me.

“He thinks I’m over-protective,” I shared.

A muscle jumped up his cheek.

Mm.

That was hot too.

“I can’t say I enjoyed tonight’s activities,” I told him. “But at least I know he’s okay, I got confirmation Mountain is impressive, I know where I stand.” I lifted my mug. “And I got cocoa.”

“Where do you stand?”

“Far out of my brother’s space.”

“Jess,” he growled.

FYI: I was falling deeper and deeper in love with his growl too.

Even so, I sighed.

“On the one hand, I see how he thinks my looking after him infantilizes him. On the other, he could just tell me that, not disappear for months only to arrange for me to be kidnapped and act like a dick.”

That muscle jumped again (and yes, this sitch was running rampant, because I was falling in love with that muscle jumping as well, especially since it indicated how he felt about me being jacked around, something I obviously wasn’t a huge fan of, and it felt uber-freaking-nice to have someone I cared about so openly giving a shit about me).

“Tell me about Mountain,” he ordered.

“He’s taller than Mace, bigger than any of you, and it’s all muscle, and he didn’t talk much. And I’ll repeat, he impressed me, and that wasn’t entirely about his muscles.” I thought about it and said, “There were at least two guys with him when he snatched me, one who dealt with Harlow, one who drove the car. I think Mountain sat beside me. Also, there was Jeff, obviously, who I don’t think was with them, but I couldn’t tell, because I was hooded.”

His black eyes suddenly blazed hellfire.

Yikes!

Wrong thing to say.

To tamp down the blaze, I hurried it along, starting with a question. “Didn’t Harlow say anything about them?”

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