Page 6 of Her Grumpy Biker
A flash of white-blonde hair catches my attention. I dismount my bike and peer in through the large display window. Sure enough, Camden is inside, chatting with a customer. She gives the woman she’s talking to a bright smile, and my chest tightens to the point of pain.
I want all of her smiles.
The thought bursts into my brain without my permission and refuses to leave. Possessiveness sweeps through me, weaving its way through my veins until it becomes a part of me.
I watch my hand reach for the door handle, then pull the door open. I didn’t mean to walk inside the store, but my feet clearly have a different idea.
In my black biker boots, heavy leather cut, and ripped jeans, I look completely out of place in this cozy bookstore. Add to that my tattoos and the nasty scar on my left temple, and I’m sure I stick out like a sore thumb.
My eyes find Camden’s, and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. I like surprising her.Dammit.
She grins, then excuses herself from the conversation she’s having. Camden waves at me, her green eyes sparkling with delight. Because of me? When was the last time someone was this happy to see me?
Her attention is too much. I turn around to leave, but my path is blocked by a pop-up display of books. I don’t see it in time and end up kicking the whole damn thing over. Books fall to the ground with a thud, followed by a cardboard cutout of who I assume is the author.
Shit.I look around, hyper-aware of every pair of eyes in the store staring at me. The panic from earlier comes back with a vengeance, making it hard to breathe. I blink a few times to clear the fog, but it only grows thicker the longer I’m standing here in the spotlight. Is it hot in here? My brow and upper lip break out into a sweat, and I want to punch my way out of this entire situation.
A soft, cool hand slips into mine, and I stare down at the connection. Camden is right next to me, her green eyes pleading with me to focus on her. I couldn’t look away even if a thousand elephants stormed through the door.
“Come on,” she whispers.
I can’t move at first, but then she tugs on my hand, urging me to follow her. I somehow put one foot in front of the other, letting the gorgeous, curvy, too-sweet, too-trusting woman lead me to a quiet corner of the store.
“Are you okay?” Camden asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Sorry about the books,” I say in a rush.
“It was an accident. Plus, Evie and I were about to switch the display anyway. You saved us the work of tearing the old one down.” I blink at her a few times, not sure what to make of this woman standing in front of me, trying to soothe me. “Are you okay?” she asks again.
I nod.
Camden narrows her eyes at me, which might be the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.Did I just use the word cute? What is wrong with me?
“The truth this time,” she sasses.
“I… got overwhelmed,” I finally say.
Camden nods, her emerald eyes searching mine. “I get like that, too, sometimes. Just breathe through it.” She takes a deep breath, encouraging me to do the same. The room is still spinning, but I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out anymore.
She drops her hand from mine, the loss of her warmth affecting me more than it should. I’m surprised and confused when Camden lightly pinches the spot between my thumb and forefinger. She gently massages the area, and I give her a questioning look. Camden smiles sweetly at me, a soft pink blush spreading across her cheeks. I get the sense she does that a lot, and that maybe she’s self-conscious about how easily she blushes.
“It’s a pressure point,” she explains. “I read all about acupuncture for anxiety while I was living on the com… uh, on the, um… What I mean to say is I read up on this before coming to Jackson Ridge.”
Cutter was right, this woman is running from a past life. I can relate to that. As much as I want to ask her follow-up questions, I don’t have the right to know. Plus, that would only invite her to ask me more questions. That wouldn’t be ideal since, apparently, I tell Camden whatever she wants to know.
Instead, I focus on where her fingers are touching me.
“Better?” she asks after a moment. I nod, completely hypnotized by her. “Here. I can show you more.”
Camden lifts her right hand to my temple, where she lightly taps her fingertips. She doesn’t flinch when she touches the marred flesh of my scar; she simply cares for me in this unexpected and tender way.
My eyes flit around her face, memorizing the shape of her rounded cheeks, slightly upturned nose, and deep green eyes. She’s focused solely on tapping my temple, then below my righteye. Camden moves her attention to my chin, and then my collarbone, this time tapping with both hands on either side of my shoulders.
“See? Your breathing is back to normal.” The mysterious, ethereal woman graces me with a soft smile filled with light and life.
She’s too damn good for me. I’d ruin her with my darkness and snuff out her light. I’d suffocate her with the weight of my suffering. Fuck, I’d stain her soul with the blood I still have on my hands from years of combat and defending my MC.
“I have to go,” I tell her, a bit more harshly than I meant. Another reason I’m no good for her. She deserves someone who can handle her with care. I’d only cause hurt and destruction, and I can tell she’s already had enough of that in her short life.
