Home > Blackwing Defender (Kane's Mountains #1)(15)

Blackwing Defender (Kane's Mountains #1)(15)
Author: T.S. Joyce

Logan winced. “Yeah. That.”

“I mean, women can be nuts. You just have to find one whose crazy matches yours.”

“Easy as that, huh? Yeah, I never did that. There was a girl I liked once. She was human. Thought about trying to leave my crew, leave my alpha, and go straight, you know? Stop the jobs.”

“What happened?”

Logan sipped long and hard on his water, then said, “She found out what I did for a living. Found out what I am.” He gave Winter an empty smile. “Her crazy didn’t match my crazy.”

“Did you like the jobs?” she whispered. His answer meant so much.

Logan looked at her and, in just an instant, his eyes aged a hundred years right in front of her. “No.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Logan leaned closer and closer until his lips were inches from hers. His eyes were troubled and locked on her mouth as if he would kiss her. She was terrified, but she was hopeful, and warmth pooled deep in her belly at how close he was. Logan brushed her hair back off her shoulder with a gentle caress, eased to her side, and then lowered his lips right beside her ear. He whispered, “Because no one else would.”

“Your order is up,” the man behind the counter called.

Logan sat there for a moment longer, his lips brushing her earlobe, his cheek rasping against hers as Winter’s heart pounded hard against her sternum, as if it was reaching for him. And when at last he disengaged, a mix of relief and disappointment swirled inside of her.

Logan picked the marker off the counter, pulled off the lid, scribbled his name on an empty patch of white on the wall, then dropped it and strode for the counter.

Stunned, she picked up the pen and wrote her name under his and, at the last moment, drew a heart between the two words, hoping he didn’t look at her artwork before they left.

Looking like a wobbly fawn trailing a graceful stag, she stood on shaky legs and stumbled this way and that behind his easy stride. Logan grabbed the handles of the bags, doubled back, whooshed past her without a word, exited Buff’s Burgers, and let the door close behind him before she could follow. Rude.

“Thanks a lot,” she called after him as she trailed at a distance. When the scent of fur wafted to her on the breeze, she slowed, her alarm bells ringing.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he gritted out, shoving the food into the back seat of his truck.

“What did I do?”

“You shouldn’t tempt me. You can’t draw me to you, Winter. It isn’t safe. Don’t call my animal. And what the fuck is happening with your body. Are you in heat?” he asked from across the bed of his truck.

“What? No!” She didn’t think so, at least.

“Well, you smell like you want sex, and trust me when I tell you, you don’t want that shit with me. And I don’t want it! Not from you.” Logan got in the truck and slammed the door so hard the vehicle rocked.

Winter stood there in shock, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. But her anger snapped her right out of it. That, and cold iced tea hit her pants when she squeezed her cup too hard and pierced it with her finger. Mother fucker. She’d put the perfect amount of sugar and lemon in this one. It was basically a work of art. With a screech, she reared back to throw the leaky tea at his truck, but he yelled, “Don’t you fuckin’ do it!” in a muffled voice.

She was in it now, though, tits-deep in her fury so she threw it anyway, and it exploded against the glossy white paint with a satisfying splash.

The window rolled down slowly, and Logan was there, sunglasses over what were probably terrifying silver eyes. His muscles were rigid, mouth set in a furious little line. “Get in.”

Hell no. She cared about survival. Winter flipped him off and marched toward the main road. Kane’s territory wasn’t that far, and she would rather walk across the damn Sahara Desert with bare feet than get into Logan’s truck right now.

He coasted beside her, but she crossed her arms over her chest, lifted her chin primly, and ignored him.

His voice sounded defeated when he muttered, “It’s ten miles to Kane’s Mountains, woman. Just get in.”

“Take it back.”

“Fine, you aren’t in heat.”

She threw him a dirty look and walked faster.

Logan’s sigh tapered into a yell that bordered on a roar. “Fuck, woman, what do you want me to say, and I’ll say it?”

“I didn’t ask you to sleep with me, Logan! You didn’t have to say you don’t want to have sex with me. I just told you I was epically rejected by my mate, and you throw your lack of physical attraction back at me? That’s messed up.”

“I’m not good at woman shit!”

“Noted, and I completely agree. Bye.”

“I have a boner.”

“What?” she asked, skidding to a stop on the asphalt.

Logan was leaning toward the passenger window, one arm draped over the steering wheel, jaw clenched. “I have a boner. From you. From wanting to…” He shook his head and stared out the front. “Please get in. I can’t just leave you here to walk all that way.”

Her phone dinged in her purse. Outside of Red Havoc, hardly anyone knew her number, so she fumbled to pull it out.

The message was from Brody.

I think I made a mistake. Where are you?

She read the text three times to make sure she wasn’t imagining it. Hope and pain warred for her body. He’d finally figured it out? He’d made a mistake? Lynn was the mistake, not Winter? Her claiming mark burned. She had to get back to Red Havoc.

   
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