Page 2 of The Alpha's Runaway Mate
“Uh-huh.” My eyes flick to the empty tables, then back to him. “Sure looks like it.”
He smirks, just barely. “You new in town?”
“Just passing through,” I murmur.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks.
“I heard there might be a job.”
That gets his attention. One dark brow lifts. “Who told you that?”
I shrug. “Some guys at the grocery store. I figured I’d stop by before they did.”
He huffs out something that might be a laugh. “Is that right?”
“Look, if it’s a no, just say so. I can take rejection.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just lets his eyes drag down, slow. My throat goes tight.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “We need help. But it won’t be you.”
“Why not?” I ask.
He tilts his head, studying me. His gaze burns through me, steady, sharp. It feels like he’s reading something under my skin.
“Let’s just say you’re not what we’re looking for.”
My face goes hot. I can practically hear my self-confidence cracking. I take a breath and force myself not to flinch. “Got it,” I say tightly. “Thanks for the chat.”
“Nolan.”
I pause. “What?”
“My name. It’s Nolan.”
Good to know. “See you around, Nolan.”
I turn for the door and grab the handle. Pull. Nothing.
“What the, ” I pull harder, panic starting to flicker. The door doesn’t move.
“It’s a push,” Nolan says from right behind me.
I freeze. I didn’t hear him get up. Didn’t hear a single step. “How, ” I turn, and nearly walk right into him.
Holy hell, he’s huge. His chest is broad and solid, his presence filling up every inch of air between us. I look up, and up, and find those dark blue eyes locked on mine.
He reaches past me, arm brushing mine as he pushes the door open easily. The brief contact lights me up from the inside out. My whole body hums like a live wire.
“Oh,” I whisper. Smooth, Jess. Real smooth.
When he pulls his arm back, it grazes mine again, and it’s like my nerves forgot how to behave. Heat rolls through me, low and deep. I suck in a breath that doesn’t help.
He doesn’t move away. Just looks down at me, expression unreadable. There’s something in his eyes, confusion, frustration, something that looks a lot like recognition.
“What’s your name?” he asks, voice low and rough.
“Jessica.”
