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Closing her eyes, she balled her hands into fists. Was he following her, or was this happenstance? Was she in danger?

“Honey, are you okay?”

“Mom, I want you to stay away from him. If you see him coming, go the other way.”

Her mother snorted.

“I’m serious, he’s unhinged. Things ended badly between us and like the spoiled brat he is, he can’t let go.” As an only child a part of Juliette lived to make her mother proud. Coming from that place, she couldn’t tell her the truth about Peter. It was a decision she was coming to regret.

“Juliette, you’re frightening me. Is he stalking you? Should we be going to the police?”

“No, nothing like that.” She rested her hand over her mother’s. “He’ll get bored and move on once he sees I’m not interested.”

“I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble—”

“No, Mom.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “This is all him.”

Her mother smiled. “How about we eat? Nothing like a little comfort food to cure what ails you.”

“Mom, I’m convinced your cooking could bring about world peace.” Once they stood, Juliette hooked their arms and headed for the kitchen.

From the moment her mother had told her she’d seen Peter, the walls of the house had begun closing in. The thought of going home made her antsy. Peter appearing to her mother was a new violation. She put up a good front, feeding snippets of watered-down information about Shooter to her mother to get her off the subject of Peter, but her mind worked overtime. By the time she left her mother’s house she was too terrified to go home. I need to do something he won’t expect. The next best thing to being with Shooter was being at his place.

She made a U-turn on Fifth Street, and Juliette headed for the south side of town. The houses got smaller and the large buildings turned into strip malls. She found herself at Shooter’s complex.

After parking, she made the walk to his apartment, her tension easing with every step. Once she locked the door behind her she removed her heels and moved into his bedroom. Stripped down, she pulled on one of the discarded white t-shirts lying across the bed. She pulled it over her nose, inhaling his lingering scent as she moved to the center of the bed. Snuggling beneath the sheets, she drifted off, grateful for the oblivion it brought.

The jarring jangle of a phone woke her. The darkness in the room told her night had fallen. Reluctantly removing her arm from the Shooter-scented cocoon she’d been wrapped snugly in, she located the cell phone on the nightstand and brought it to her mouth.

“Hello?”

“Juliette? Are you okay? I was about to send the boys into your house guns blazing.”

“Not there.” She cursed her sleep-thickened tongue.

“Where are you?”

“Your bed.”

“Damn, baby. You say all the right things without even trying.” The worry drained from his voice.

“Miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby. Were you sleeping?”

“Yeah.” Scooting into a sitting position, she wiped the sleep from her eyes. “I had dinner with my mom tonight and I just couldn’t bring myself to go home.” He’d be pissed when he found out she hadn’t told him about Peter right away. But she couldn’t add any pressure on him.

“I like the thought of you in my bed better anyways.”

“I bet you do.” She grinned. “I’m even wearing your shirt.”

He growled, and she laughed. By now she knew what her man liked.

“Tease.”

“Hey, I deliver.”

“Yes, you do.” The silken purr made her center ache.


Tags: Shyla Colt Lords of Mayhem Romance