Page 7 of Resurfaced Passion

Today her pink hair was in a thick braid wrapped around her skull.

He swallowed twice and felt his fingers flex on the table.

“Hermano. Fancy meeting you here.” Chuckled Capone, blocking out his view.

He scowled and canted his head back to look at the Hispanic man smiling down at him.

They all knew he came here. He ignored their jibes. Arson especially knew not to taunt him about Paige, since he’d thrown the other man across a table when he dared joke about him fucking ‘diner girl’ as they all called her.

In his peripheral he watched her serving people. Walking back and forth beyond the white counter, smiling and generally being an angel to everyone who spoke to her.

All he wanted to do was watch her. Was it too much to ask for?

Capone didn’t seem to care because he parked himself on the opposite side of the booth and rested his clasped hands on the table, silver rings on most of his fingers.

“Sit down why don’t you.” Reaper snarked making Capone laugh.

“Gracias. Here for your morning coffee?”

Reaper grunted.

Capone’s fingers drummed on the table. “Why do you do it,papi?”

Reaper could’ve played dumb, asked what he meant. But he knew. Why did he torture himself withher?

Without taking his eyes from behind the counter he answered, voice like he’d smoked glass shards. “Because I have to.”

He heard his friend suck through his teeth, but otherwise he didn’t respond.

They all probably thought he was as crazy as Hawk.

But it was different. So damn different.

Rider was the only one Reaper had confided in. His prez understood there might be a day Reaper wouldn’t be around. But as far as spilling his guts open to the others? He hadn’t uttered a word. He let them joke around about his obsession and sexless life.

Impatiently, he rubbed fingers under his hat along his forehead.

Any second now Paige would come over and he didn’t want her attention shared with Capone. He liked him, sure. Stand-up guy, would do a lot for any of the club brothers. But Reaper didn’t like him enough that he’d portion his few precious Paige minutes.

“Good morning, boys.”

There she was.

His head snapped up to look at her smiling, flushed face with her delicate hand holding a coffee pot. It was her smile that could render any man dumb as a post. Reaper was far from immune. What with him sucking on his own tongue. All the moments like this one, with her eyes skimming over his face and his own gaze on her, always felt a little inappropriate, but ask Reaper if he cared?

God, almighty, he needed help.

Not just for his rapid heart or his aching cock.

Sometimes he had to wrench his eyes away for self-preservation.

It was one of those times.

He sat back in the booth and rested an arm along the back, aware his MC friend was watching this whole silent exchange going down with a twitch on his lips.

A giant slab of concrete hit him in the stomach and nearly took Reaper to his knees when her smile grew, and her cheeks pinked up. She was blushing for him. So pretty. So lovely. She smelled so fuckinggood. It was a fist of desire repeatedly punching him.

“It’s good to see you, Paige.” Offered Capone with a big-ass grin on his goatee face.

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