Page 57 of Wretched Love

Page List


Font:  

Swiss gave me a ride to work.

On the back of his bike.

Well, first we stopped at the motel so I could change into different clothes and put on a little makeup. Swiss had lounged on the bed and watched me the entire time. He did not hurry me. To the contrary… He acted like he didn’t have anywhere else to be but right there.

It was both comforting and unnerving. My nerves were frayed from these past few days, battling both of those feelings. Battling my fight-or-flight instinct. It was really only in moments of pause when such thoughts became overwhelming. When I had too much time to think about it all.

Which was why it was a good thing I quickly got ready and back on the bike to go to the coffee shop.

Aside from a vague throbbing of my head, my hangover was mostly gone. Sex must’ve been the ultimate cure for that. I had a feeling that sex with Swiss was a cure for almost everything.

Though it was still mid-morning, the air was warm and balmy, even on the bike. It was gearing up to be another hot New Mexico day. My skin soaked up the sun, already hungry for me. Although I didn’t grow up in the dry, unyielding heat, I felt like I was made for it. Like my body was desperate for it.

The bike roared to a stop at the front of the café, which indeed did look busy.

Swiss surprised me by getting off the bike at the same time as me.

“You don’t have to walk me in,” I told him, running my hand through what was probably helmet hair.

“I sure as fuck do,” he replied, pulling me to his side to kiss my head. He started walking us inside, opening the door for me. “Plus,” he said, holding the door, “I need some java, and this shit is like crack.” He winked.

I breathed in the smell of coffee grounds and food cooking in the kitchen, already feeling amped up for the day ahead. Though I already missed the man beside me.

“Good, you’re here,” Julian muttered, looking up, barely glancing at Swiss. He picked up a plate and shoved it in my direction. “Eat this.”

I glanced down at the plate. It was what looked like a breakfast sandwich, and my mouth watered.

“Figured you’d need something greasy, by the way you sounded,” he said as he looked at Swiss. “These bastards know how to party.”

“And you know how to make good as fuck coffee,” Swiss retorted, his arm still around me. “Which is the only reason I’m not taking you outside for callin’ my woman and draggin’ her out of bed in the morning.”

I gaped up at him and at the threat he delivered that only slightly sounded like he was joking.

Julian, to his credit, didn’t look surprised or intimidated. Not even a little bit.

“Well, your woman can give me a run for my money, so she’s worth risking a tousle with you,” he shot back, winking at me.

Swiss chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re the only fucker who can get away with talking to me like that.”

“It’s the accent,” he smirked. “I’m adorable.” Julian looked at me. “Eat that.” He pointed to the plate. “Say goodbye to your old man, make him a coffee to keep him happy, and then we’ve got work to do.”

Julian did not wait for a response, he turned back to the coffee machine and barked at a customer to “Wait a bloody second.”

The customer in question blinked in surprise but then stood quietly as ordered.

I grinned as I took my first bite of the sandwich.

Then I made a noise at the back of my throat. The bread was perfectly toasted, slathered in butter and soaking with bacon grease. Exactly what my body needed right then.

Swiss watched me eat. I normally would’ve been really self-conscious about him watching me eat in such a messy and unladylike way, but I was much too hungry and hungover to worry about that.

“You gonna share some of that with me?” he asked, teasing in his tone.

Wordlessly, I handed the plate to him. Swiss picked up the sandwich and took a large bite, looking at me while he did it before handing it back to me.

The act of sharing food was incredibly intimate, despite everything we’d done that could’ve been perceived as very fricking intimate too.

I took another bite then handed him the plate once more. We went back and forth until the sandwich was done, and my stomach no longer felt so unpredictable.


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance