Page 9 of Resurfaced Passion

Look at me, Paige,he wanted to roar.Look at me.

Minutes ticked by. He took a call from the RSMC compound that lasted all of twenty seconds before he spotted Paige coming out from behind the counter holding a tray. He cut Preacher off without ceremony and was up out of the booth. He hated to see her struggling and he had the tray in his own hands in seconds.

“Oh. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

Reaper grunted and dumped the plate heaping with food onto his table, along with a bowl of… he stared down at the goop. Was that..?

“I thought you might like some oatmeal, too. It’s healthy.” She beamed. “Except well, if you ignore all the brown sugar. So it’s mostly healthy. But oats are good for you!”

Fucks sake, he hated oatmeal of all kinds, even if it came with a truck load of sugar on top, but he’d eat dog shit if she told him to.

“Thanks, it erm... looks good.”

She laughed and took back the tray, propping it under her arm. “I can tell you think it’s the opposite, but trust me, you’ll like it. And it’ll stick to your ribs, as my grandmama would say, keep you warm all day.”

Again, dog shit—he’d lap it up if she told him to.

The breakfast was good. Even the damn oatmeal when he ended up scraping out the bowl. His belly was full, but his chest was empty. Story of his fucking life.

If not for the nagging things he needed to get done today he would have sat there most of the day.

A twinge of unknowns rippled through him as he stood to pay the bill.

Paige’s eye caught him from behind the counter while she served and smiled at everyone. She was a caring person, was Paige. If she saw someone in need of help she’d give it, no questions asked.

Several other eyes moved toward him when he rose and stepped over to the counter. He hadn’t realized what being part of an MC would mean until he was in the thick of it. He’d been in bar fights before and had guys try to test his patience and now people feared him by rumored reputation, but it was a whole other level of awareness being associated to theSouls.

Reaper was the least villainous member of the MC and that included Jed and that other old dude who could tell some crazy stories about his ‘good old days’.

As he knew now, a reputation needed nothing more than a few hushed whispers and the rest was history.

It didn’t bother him much, seeing how he didn’t want to talk to people, because he’d known all along that there could come a day when he stuffed his few personal possessions into a holdall bag, and he’d leave Armado Springs without looking back.

The young girl … Lucie, he thought her name was, who Paige hired this past summer, took his money and he tossed the ten dollars change into the tip jar along with another twenty. He’d stuff hundreds in there if he thought Paige wouldn’t chase him down and push the money back into his chest.

Sweet and caring, she was. Also proud as fuck, too much, he reckoned, like most head strong women tended to be. She wouldn’t even let him take her shit car in for a service last year when it died in the middle of the street—because she’d guessed correctly, he wouldn’t have charged her for it.

She’d taken it to another garage over in West Bank Falls owned by Jamie Steele, the prez of the Apollo Kingsmen.

It took one phone call to ensure they gave her an astronomically lucky discount that day on all the repairs needed and Reaper called in later to pay the rest.

He knew what he wanted to do. God, did he.

It was for Paige’s own good that he didn’t follow through on any of it.

Wasn’t it?

It was what he told himself. What heknew, more to the point.

Some things just were, and he had to be okay about it.

Just looking at her was enough.Hadto be enough.

It got him through each day.

Knocking his knuckles on the counter he got her attention.

Reaper saw the rapid pulse of her heartbeat in the long column of her neck thrumming wildly. Was she as excited looking at him as he felt for her?

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