Page 34 of Veiled Amor

It was moments later, when Capone headed for the door, that Shark’s voice stopped him. “You and the girl, is it serious?”

Though a snap sent a whoosh of air through his chest, Capone’s features didn’t alter. “She’s a family friend. We’re not together.”

“Okay. Just so the boys know.”

He narrowed his eyes at Shark’s smirk. “They’ll keep away from her, or I’ll make them.”

The Prez laughed. “You know better than that, Capone, women who aren’t claimed are fair game for the boys to talk to.”

He knew this, even so, he ground his teeth until he thought he might have made dust of them.

“Don’t be worrying like a papa bear. She’s safe here. They ain’t gonna put the moves on an unwilling woman. But if she wants some male company to take her mind from her daddy issues… she’s fucking pretty, Capone, they’re gonna like what they see.”

Over his dead body.

He might not think he was good enough for her. But this sorry lot wasn’t good enough for her, either.

As good-natured as an angry man could muster, he turned to meet amused eyes looking on. “I hope your prospects are good at sweeping up body parts.”

Shark barked a laugh. “That’s the threat of a man who’s claimed a woman.”

“We’re not together.”

The hot as fuck kiss didn’t mean a thing, other than he was hornier than a rabbit in mating season and itching to get back to Lucia’s side before one of his brothers from another mother tried to make a move on her. He was only half-joking about breaking their bones. But he didn’t want to put it to the test how fast he’d do it.

“Hey, Capone, sleeping arrangements, seeing as you’re not together, you want one room or two?”

“One,” he growled without hesitation, walking into Shark’s trap like he was a newborn pup.

He left with the sound of laughter behind him.

In the kitchen doorway, he watched her for a few seconds, laughing at something Shark’s old lady was saying. He’d watched her too often in secret to be called a decent man. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to see her father hadn’t worn her down.

The guilt for leaving her almost choked him, so he stepped into the room. Her smile dropped a little, and he felt that too. Deserved, he hadn’t been sunshine and welcome mats since meeting her again, had he?

He could change that. Smiling, he swung his leg over the bench, touching the top of her arm. “Did you get your fill?”

“Yep. I saved you an egg and sausage breakfast roll.”

“Only one?”

Spencer chuckled and rose to her feet. “I’ll leave this hungry biker to you, Lucia. Your room is up the stairs, the last door on the left. I got it ready this morning. It has towels and stuff.”

“Gracias.”

“Thanks for everything, Spencer.”

“No problem, chick.”

It was then Lucia brought a plate from the microwave and put it in front of him. Three overloaded cheese biscuits with eggs falling out the sides. His stomach growled.

“It’s good. Nothing like yourtortilla de Patatas,though.”

His eyes shot up. Met hers. Saw so much in the depths, enough to want to bring her into his lap.

“You remember that?”

“How you’d make Sunday breakfast for your family? Yeah. It was the favorite part of my week.” She blushed and broke eye contact, “I mean, it was great food, Capone.”

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