Page 18 of Savage Devotion
Charli’s words whirl through my head as I rip open another box and she does the same.
To a degree she’s right. I only signed a one-year lease on the place because I am scared. Scared of seeinghimthough the truth is I came here because of Reaper. Stupid as it sounds and truly, a decision I might regret. But he has to know. Eventually. First, I want to make sure he’s the kind of man who will be good for the baby we made together.
I know he’s more than just a bad boy I remember from a fun night of celebrating. He’s exactly what I swore off a long time ago. A biker. And worse. The leader of his motorcycle gang.
From the second I crossed Harlon’s parish boundaries all I’ve heard is Reaper’s name on everyone’s lips. The prodigal son has returned…the new president…he’s changed…darker…
The list goes on and with every new item added to it, the more I want to throw my boxes of books in the car and hit top speeds getting out of this parish.
Yet here I stand.
When I cooked up the bright idea to search out the little parish, set up shop and get to know the father of my child before I start showing, I thought it sounded like a reasonable plan. But the more time goes on, the more I think I just wanted to put myself in the path of the man I couldn't get out of my head. And heart, if I want to be honest.
It’s funny though. With all this inner turmoil, I’ve yet to see the man since arriving in Harlon.
I either hide when he walks into a place or chicken out at the last minute thinking I can just drive out to his biker compound. But the second I see the high walls and the guarded gate I pull a U-turn.
Fear of rejection is a bitch.
You would think two months is enough time for me to work up the nerve, but nope. I cling to my bookshelves and books hoping he’ll somehow discover me here in my tiny little nook, whisk me to the back of my store, and take me up against a bookcase all the while professing his undying love for me.
I laugh at my cowardice.
My attention falls back on Charli as she cracks open a fairly worn copy of a reverse harem romance I recommended a couple ofweeks back. Apparently, she’s done with the unpacking part of helping me.
“Did I tell you about what happens on page one-oh-eight of this one?” She kicks back in her chair and shakes the paperback in my direction. “Honey, that shit ain’t natural. But it was fun to try to imagine. I like it when she stabs him and then he still saves her. Here, let me read this line to you.”
I eye the dark red cover. Oh, God. “Do you carry that around with you?” I hold back my laugh, cutting in before she can readthatline.
“Uh, yeah.”
Good Lord, I’ve created a monster. “I know exactly what happens. I read that one. Twice.” I put a hand over hers and hand to God we both blush.
“Charli?” a sweet voice calls out from the back of the store.
“Oh, shit. I forgot about Angel Baby. Poor girl. I left her in the middle of the dark mafia reverse harem aisle. She’s probably freaking out. Gotta go. I love filthifying my friends with new favorite authors.”
As the mother hen type with the Savage Reign crew and anyone else she comes across she likes, Charli takes my face between her palms and looks me dead in the eyes. “Think about the book club? I want your answer in two days. Got it? I’m not gonna let you hide.”
No one tells Charli no.
“Promise,” I reassure her.
An hour later Charli and Angel—a Savage Reign club candy—walk out with at least a weekend’s worth of books and the promise to be back Monday. God, I need to restock already.
At this rate, that woman will have half the town’s female population hooked on alien dick and mafia smut.
I smile feeling oddly accomplished. Love. Is love. Is love. Spreading it in the form of books puts a bit of spring in my step. Maybe Charli is right. I should give Harlon a little longer to grow on me. At least here I don’t have a stepdad wanting to use me as a drug pusher or a mother bleeding me dry emotionally.
Reaper or not, a close-knit parish like this would be a good place to raise a child.
I inhale the clean fall air and love the scent of wood-fire scent drifting in the early afternoon fog as I lock up and head for Josie’s diner not too far down the street. Some pie and coffee for lunch sound perfect after such a huge book sale.
The good thing about a small parish versus the big city I’m used to is no traffic. I start across the quiet street. Halfway there a roar of motors forces my knees to lock in place.
Bikers rumble down the road and I barely move out of the way from getting my toes crushed as they roll by. The hard eyes of their road captain pierce my skull and shivers of dread scrape down my spine.
I’m not a freaking delicate flower by no means, but right this second, I wish I had someone or something between the vultures and me.
