Page 90 of Tracking Luxe

Grinder took off. He had to pretend to earn his pay check this week, he couldn't leave all the bike shop work to Preacher, he'd only whine like a damn princess.

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Was it considered stalking if Reaper did it in plain sight with plate of eggs and hash browns delivered to nearby tables? He inhaled hard enough to snap a rib, letting it out slowly, there was no calm here so he didn't pretend. Logically he'd known Grinder had no more interest in Paige than he did big Harry over at the meat packing plant who was sitting at the counter scooping food into his mouth at an alarming rate, not with what he’d been hearing about him and that girl of Jamie Steele’s, the one who stole shit. And yet, while he'd watched the tracker smile and engage Paige in conversation, logging every inch of her animated face as she took down a note on her little pad she kept in the pocket of her peach dress, Reaper had to call on a bank of patience not to storm across the diner and tell Grinder to get the hell away from her.

That wouldn’t go over well with the woman he barely spoke two words to at any one time.

Words failed him when she was in front of him. He never wanted to say the wrong thing.

Agitated, he took a sip of coffee, not tasting as it burned his throat, he was too busy watching her come out from behind the counter. Every day he chose the table by the window over in the corner away from the crowd where he could watch with ease and still have an eye on what was going on outside.

She was such a friendly little thing in the snug uniform that hung above her perfect knees and clung to her breasts as she walked from table to table refilling the coffee mugs for the early morning workers.

She worked too damn hard.

Today her blonde and pink hair was caught back in a thick rope braid hanging halfway down her back. She looked so sweet and innocent when she smiled engaging customers, not a hint of annoyance when more than one had her running back to the counter for something.

He knew she was here baking her pies from 4 AM and he knew this because--well that didn’t matter how he knew. It would be the lunchtime rush soon making her even busier. He wanted to insist she sit down and eat something for fucks sake.

Like every other time he kept his mouth shut. Letting his eyes do all the talking for him, things he couldn't say.

His thumb played absently with the band on his wedding finger.

There was a prickling of panic in the back of his skull, aware he was running out of time.

"Would you like a refill?" the melodic angel voice asked. It took all will he had not to throw her down on the table and mount over her and suck on her lips and demandtell me.

Reaper looked up in stages, stalking up over her uniform encased over her tits, up her neck and then he reached her face. She was smiling but he could see he made her nervous, the smile faltering a little when he continued to stare at her.

He didn’t mean to. Only he had words he couldn’t fucking put on his tongue.

Clearing his throat, he nodded his thanks.

She refilled his cup. "Can I bring you anything to eat?"

You on a plate, I don't need a fork.

"I'll have whatever you think I want." He answered gruffly, holding her eyes.

A deep pink blush crested on her cheeks. So, fucking pretty.

The ring twirled around and around, she must have noticed his tick because her eyes followed, her blonde brows falling over her lavender eyes. "Why don't you ever bring in your wife?"

A blow to his chest. The shock was worse than estimated.

The bolt came suddenly like a crack of lightening in the sky you don’t expect, it lingered, a fungus clinging to him, and he caught his breath for a moment until he could speak.

Reaper made a broken sound before he could stop it.

Was Paige picking up on his misery? The lithe length of her body moved slightly away from him, she was frowning and it puckered her otherwise smooth forehead, tendrils of hair swept across her eyes, and he had designs to brush them aside and make her look at him,see him. "I--didn't...."

"She's gone." He answered to stop her feeling bad for him. He didn't need sympathy.

Fingers clasped her neck. "Oh. I'm so sorry, Reaper."

He nodded.

"I'll bring you some food right away."

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