Page 141 of Sinful
I'm elbow-deep in the engine when Shadow shows up around two.
I hear his bike before I see it—the distinctive rumble of his custom Harley that he babies like it's his child.
"Heard you're the best mechanic in Texas now," he says, walking into the garage.
"Heard you're still full of shit," I reply, not looking up from what I’m doing.
He laughs, but it sounds off. Strained. Like he's forcing it.
I glance up.
He looks different than usual—more tense, wound tighter than his normal intensity.
Shadow's always been a coiled spring, but this is something else.
"You good?" I ask.
"Fine. Just need my bike tuned up before the run next week."
"Leave it. I'll have it done by tomorrow."
He nods but doesn't move. Just stands there looking like he wants to say something but won't.
"You've been at the ranch a lot lately," I observe. "Phantom got you doing extra work?"
Something flashes in his eyes—dark and dangerous and completely unreadable. "Something like that."
"Shadow—"
"Drop it, Helle." His voice is hard. Final. "Just... drop it."
I raise my hands in surrender. "Dropped."
He's turning to leave when Grace's truck pulls up.
The change in Shadow is immediate and terrifying.
Every muscle in his body goes rigid.
His eyes track her movement like a predator tracking prey—focused, intense, hungry in a way that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Grace gets out of her truck, sees Shadow, and something flickers across her face.
Fear? Want? Recognition? All three?
"Shadow," she says, voice carefully neutral. "I didn't know you were here."
"Grace." His voice is rough. Lower than normal.
Possessive in a way that makes my skin prickle with warning.
The air between them is so thick with tension I can barely breathe.
Whatever this is, it's intense.
"I need my tie rod looked at," Grace says to me, specifically not looking at Shadow anymore. "Dad said you're good with trucks too."
"Yeah, I can check it out. Give me ten minutes."
