Page 45 of My Secret to Protect

Me: We’re going to the bar. I thought it would be a surefire way to get the word out that we’re dating. So, dress like you’re on a date. Wear a dress so he knows you’re looking to get laid.

Bree: Wow, so romantic.

I rolled my eyes at the burner cell in my hand, then laughed at the absurdity of my situation.

Me: Well, nothing pisses a man off more than thinking his woman is looking to get dicked down by another man!

Or so I’m told. I’ve never been the jealous type, as I never had reason to be.

Bree: Oh, baby. With sweet words like that, I can’t wait.

Me: Cut the shit. Just be ready at seven.

Bree: Yes, sir!

Now we’re here, in the bar, and she is dressed likeI’mlooking to get laid. The black dress she’s wearing fits her body like it was sprayed on. Her defined figure is making my mouth water, and I am trying so fucking hard not to look at her tits, but they’re right here, and I was raised in a motorcycle club wherenotlooking was frowned upon and caused offense.

‘He’s good,’ I say to distract myself from her cleavage as the singer finishes his song, and her eyes meet mine. Nodding, she agrees.

‘Yeah, he is.’

Her tone is clipped and cold, and I reach out to take her hand on the table. She flinches, and I circle my thumb over the soft skin of her wrist, feeling her pulse race.

‘Bree, you’ve got to relax,’ I say softly as a presence at the end of the table has us both turning our heads, her hand still in mine.

‘Mrs. Abernathy,’ Bree says, sounding surprised. ‘What are you doing in here?’

The older lady chuckles. ‘What, I can’t let my hair down?’

‘Oh, no, you can.’ Bree smiles wider. ‘You just don’t usually come to the bar.’

‘That’s my nephew.’ She points to the singer. ‘I haven’t seen him in years because he’s always traveling doing this, so I couldn’t miss the opportunity with him right here.’

‘We were just saying what a good singer he is,’ I say, and Mrs. Abernathy smiles at me. We’re acquainted. She made a point of showing up on my doorstep with a casserole when I arrived, so I returned the favor, showing up on hers with a home-baked pie.

‘Oh, Arlo, you’re so sweet.’ She grins, reaching out to pat my arm, and I see her attention graze over mine and Bree’s connected hands. ‘Oh, I’m interrupting.’ She beams, meeting Bree’s eye. ‘I’ll leave you both to it.’ Then she leans in close to me and says softly, ‘She’s a catch, honey, don’t blow it.’ And I know Bree heard when she slowly pulls her hand from mine and picks up her drink, and with a wink, Mrs. Abernathy walks away.

‘Come on, short stuff,’ I say brightly as I stand and hold out my hand. Bree’s eyes trail up my arm until they meet my eyes. ‘We’re dancing.’

I can’t help but notice the breath she takes before sliding her hand into mine and letting me help her out of the booth. On the dance floor, she turns to me, and I use my hand on her lower back to pull her body against mine as we start to move.

‘You’re taller tonight,’ I observe, noticing my mouth hovers just above her nose instead of her forehead.

‘That’s because I’m wearing these stupid ass shoes.’

She bends one leg behind her to show me her shoes, and I’m distracted by her smooth skin and muscular calf. Man, her legs are fantastic. She turns to face me as she lowers her leg, and I know she catches me looking, but she doesn’t say a word about it.

‘For someone so big, you’re a good dancer,’ she says as I turn us and pull back a little to look at her.

‘For someone so big?’

Smiling, she answers. ‘Yeah, look at you. You’re just so bulky.’

A loud laugh escapes me, and she smiles widely.

‘Bulky.’ I nod, letting the word sink in.

‘It’s good bulky,’ she adds to soften the blow, and I laugh again but a little softer. ‘What do you do to work out?’

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