Page 3 of Reaper

Savannah’s smile softened, and she stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm.“Guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, then.”

Reaper’s chest tightened, a feeling he wasn’t used to stirring deep inside him. He covered it with a smirk, returning his focus to the bike. “Damn right you will.”

As the rain outside turned to a steady downpour, Reaper worked in companionable silence, the tension from the chase fading into the background.

This wasn’t the first time Savannah had come to him for bike repairs. She had rolled into Steelhaven, the Iron Sentinels MC territory, a couple of months ago. No one knew much about her or where she’d come from. Reaper had seen her type before: guarded, wary, and carrying secrets she wasn’t ready to share. But he knew how to handle someone like her. Be patient enough, and eventually, she’d fess up or let something slip—a clue, a crack in the armor.

All he had to do was wait.

Chapter Two

Savannah leaned against the workbench, casually inspecting the grease-streaked garage like it wasn’t her fifth visit this month.

Her bike sat propped on the lift behind her. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. The move was deliberate, drawing Reaper’s sharp gaze for just a moment before he turned back to his tools.

He hadn’t said much when she’d shown up, just a single raised eyebrow and a grunt that sounded something like figures. Now he was quiet, his rough hands working methodically as he inspected her bike. It didn’t matter. Savannah was good at filling silences. Better than facing questions she didn’t want to answer.

“Guess I’m keeping you busy, huh?” she said, her tone light, teasing. She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked.“Starting to think you like seeing me around, Reaper.”

He snorted but didn’t look up.“Starting to think you’ve got the worst luck with bikes I’ve ever seen.”

Savannah shrugged, leaning just a little closer.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just like hanging around your charming self.”

That earned her a glance. His eyes were sharp, piercing even, like he was peeling away the layers of her words to see the truth underneath. That was the thing about Reaper—he wasn’t the type to be distracted by charm. Not for long, anyway.

What was she doing flirting with him?

“You’re deflecting,” he said simply, going back to work. “But that’s fine. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Savannah’s smirk faltered just for a second, before she recovered.

“Tell you what? My bike broke down. You’re fixing it. Simple as that.”

He set down the wrench with a deliberate clink and turned to face her, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Come on, Savannah. A bike like yours doesn’t just ‘break down’ every other week. Either you’re running it into the ground, or there’s something you’re not telling me.”

She tilted her head, her expression playful but guarded.“Why, Reaper, are you accusing me of lying?”

“I’m saying your story doesn’t add up,” he replied, his voice low and steady.“And I think you know it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her smile in place, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.

“Well, aren’t you full of theories? Maybe I just like your company,” she said.

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers,“but I don’t think that’s it.”

Savannah felt a flicker of something she couldn’t quite name.

Reaper wasn’t like the others she’d dealt with—he didn’t push too hard, didn’t pry. But he also didn’t let things slide. He had this way of looking at her, like he could see all the things she didn’t want to say.

She let out a soft laugh, stepping away from the workbench to pace a little.

“You’re awfully curious for someone who’s supposed to be fixing a bike,” she pointed out.

“And you’re awfully cagey for someone who wants her ride fixed,” he countered.

---