Page 15 of The Belle and the Biker

I realize I'm shivering, even though the radiator keeps the apartment toasty. Crash wraps an arm around my shoulder. It's a warm, reassuring presence, and I lean into it.

"And I ran around the corner. But I couldn't tell you what the guy looked like. He was too bundled up. Blue puffy coat, hood pulled down low over his face, scarf wrapped around his neck and the bottom of his face. I mean, I couldn't tell you his race, age, build, or anything. He wasn't hugely obese or exceptionally skinny, but other than that, nothing."

I fall silent. Crash's arm is still around my shoulder, and it feels so good that I don't say anything else for fear he'll move away from me. We sit silently for a bit, and then Crash clears his throat. "I'm sticking right by your side until he's caught."

That sounds personal, and it almost sounds as if he cares. I want to ask him why he'd do that, but I'm afraid of the answer.

Crash and his fellow bikers are fiercely protective of each other. It's one of the things that I like about him, how loyal he is. Sometimes, when he was working at the club, I'd catch him watching me, giving me this half smile that made me feel warm all over. Then he'd realize I'd caught him, and he'd turn away quickly. But the way he looked at me those few times… I've never felt anything like that before. I've had many men check me out, but it's always been because of my looks. It happened a lot more when I was bone-thin. The look in Chase's eyes was like he was seeing the real me, and he liked what he saw.

But then, why did he never follow up on it?

"I'll get you a blanket," I say and reluctantly stand up, immediately missing the feeling of his arm around me.

It's a long, restless night for me, tossing and turning with Crash sleeping in the living room, so close but untouchable. I drift in and out of sleep. Finally, as the sun rises, I roll out of bed and get dressed. Crash is passed out, snoring gently on the couch. I feed Tiddlywinks and fill up her bowl of water. When I go to make coffee, I mutter a curse—we're out.

Well, I need to take her for a walk anyway, and there's no point in waking Crash. He's dead to the world. I quickly pull on my boots, sweater, and coat, wrap Tiddlywinks in a towel for warmth, and put her in my purse. We're just going to the coffee store a block away. He'll be furious when he wakes up, making it even more fun.

CHAPTER6

Savannah

I rush backthrough the door fifteen minutes later without coffee. I don't need caffeine; my heart is racing a million miles a minute.

Crash is sitting on the couch, holding my cell phone in his hand. I expect him to start yelling at me for leaving the apartment unescorted, but instead, he just gives me a look of amusement.

"Oh, there you are. I was just about to go look for you." Then he speaks into the phone. "She's back! So, where were we? Mae Abernathy was wearing what kind of dress when this happened?"

I rush toward the couch and try to grab the phone. He holds it up high, out of my reach.

"Who are you talking to?" I jump, but he's too tall.

Crash grins at me. "Your aunt Hepzibah. She was just filling me in on everything that's going on back home. Apparently, some old whore named Mae Abernathy is trying to steal her man, Beauford Spillwell of the Red Holler Spillwells. They're called that because of the red dirt in the holler where they live. His name is Beau, and he's also her beau. Mae and your aunt got into a fight on Main Street; they both have black eyes and ended up in jail for twenty-four hours."

"How dare you answer my phone?" I splutter.

Tiddlywinks yips supportively from my purse.

His grin stretches even wider. He's so handsome when he smiles. Then again, so is the devil, I imagine. "It was an accident. I heard the phone ringing on the coffee table, and I mistook it for mine, so I answered it."

I look at my phone, which is covered with pink rhinestones and fake pearls. I look at him, and he blinks in a feeble attempt to look innocent.

"You have a pink sparkly cell phone?" I arch a skeptical eyebrow.

"I'm very confident in my masculinity."

"My ringtone is a snippet of a Shania Twain song," I say to him. "Isn't yours from some death-metal band?"

"Easy mistake. Anyone could have made it." He lowers his hand and lets me take my phone back.

"Aunt Hepzibah? I'm ever so sorry. An emergency has come up. I'll have to call you right back." I thicken my accent the way I always do when speaking to anyone from back home. "I'm evah so sorry."

I hang up and skewer him with a furious glare. "How dare you invade my privacy like that?"

His eyes blaze with anger. "That's what you get for putting yourself in danger. I can add a spanking in next time if it happens again."

Sensuous heat floods through my body at the thought. His big hand coming down on my butt, landing with a resounding thwack…the sting of his palm on my flesh…

I swallow hard and banish the sexy vision from my brain. Unfortunately, I'm about to tell him that he was right and I was wrong. I shouldn't have left the apartment by myself this morning.

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