Page 16 of Dagger

I nodded and found a reassuring smile for him. “Yep, I’m good. Where are we going?” I ignored how hot he looked leaning against the bike and gave my sedan a curious look. I didn’t usually go for the bad boy type. I’d grown up surrounded by those types when they showed up on our doorstep because Dad owed them money. Then again, most of my relationships weren’t bad boys, just bad men. Horrible men. Terrible men.

Dagger seemed like a good guy, so I was actively giving him the benefit of the doubt. I’d give him a few tips on reconnecting with Dani, and we’d go our separate ways. Because no matter how smoking hot he was, I didn’t want to get involved. No matter how much my horny self was salivating at the thought of wrapping my legs around his muscular thighs.

“Beans and Biscuits,” he said, and turned away to get on his bike before I could comment on the trendy coffee shop. “You can follow me.”

I bit back the smile, slid behind the steering wheel, and followed the sexy single dad to the trendiest coffee shop in Steel City.

Chapter 10

Dagger

Why the fuck did I choose this place? Beans and Biscuits had damn good coffee, but everything aside from the coffee was so fucking fake, all the way down to the fake brick that adorned three of the four walls. The chairs were the color of Easter baskets, and all the coffees came with ridiculous names like Faraway Frappe and Cloudy with a Chance of Cappuccino.

I never came here to sit and linger. I got my cup and got the fuck out before the hipster stink could rub off on me, but now here I was standing in line beside a stunning brunette with a pair of big hazel eyes that watched me a little too closely, her full lips curled up in what looked like it was trying to be a smile. But she was holding it back.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I grunted as we stood in line behind a dude with a man bun and a girl in a granny sweater. It was ridiculous, but this was where I stopped, so I needed to suck it up and deal with it. “You know what you want?” I asked when we got to the counter.

“Double espresso, please.” She grinned at the young barista.

“Large black,” I ordered in a firm tone while I grabbed a handful of sugar packets.

“Want some coffee with that sugar?” Sinclair asked, amused as hell, making a big show of grabbing one skinny ass packet of brown sugar for her fancy shot of caffeine.

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

She laughed again, a little louder, and the sound carried, drawing a few stares from other customers. “Anytime.” She found a table on the interior wall of the shop, which made me wonder if she knew she was being watched, but before I could ask, she took the sea green chair, leaving the turquoise one for me. “So, Dagger, what do you want to talk about?”

I watched her for a long moment as those wide, guileless eyes held mine. “What if that was just a ploy?”

“Well, you’re not hitting on me, and you haven’t given off those vibes, so I’d assume you’ve pre-dug a grave for me.”

My brows dipped. “That was dark.”

“Thanks.” She flashed a wide grin and then closed her eyes and took a long sip from her tiny cup. “Damn, that’s incredible.”

I was too stuck on the fact that Iwasn’t giving off those vibesto appreciate the low moan that escaped her lips, but I quickly took notice. “What kind of vibesamI giving?”

That made Sinclair pause. “Mostly annoyed,” she answered honestly. “But you’re not hitting on me, so why does it matter?”

I shook my head. “You seem awfully sure of that.”

“It’s been a while, but I remember what it’s like when a man is hitting on me or wants to hit on me.” She didn’t seemembarrassed by that fact either, just resigned to it. Maybe even relieved.

“Maybe gruff asshole is how I hit on women.” The answer came quickly, surprising both of us.

Sinclair gifted me with a laugh, the sound soft and sexy, almost lyrical. “I’ll bet with that face you could get away with it, but that’s not what you’re doing.”

“You said it’s been a while since someone’s hit on you. Define a while.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat behind it, and her lips curled up in amusement. “More than a year,” she answered, her gaze unwavering as she waited for my response.

“Bullshit,” I shot back. “Maybe that was the last time you noticed someone was hitting on you, but it definitely wasn’t that long ago.”

Her face turned bright pink. “Agree to disagree, then.” She took another sip of espresso, but she watched me until I began to talk.

“You haven’t been in town long, but I’m sure you’ve heard about the Steel Demons?”

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