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He slaps his ass.
I wipe my hand over my face. Typical Lincoln.
Ghost’s growling cuts off abruptly. Now, he’s giving Lincoln a long, assessing stare.
Didn’t Lincoln call Ghost a genius…?
Feral and a genius.
Ghost could be the most dangerous out of all of us.
And I’m only a baker.
I sigh.
The baker, the bodyguard, the bad Alpha and the…
I consider Ghost.
I don’t know quite what he is yet, apart from a man who mesmerizes me both with his beauty and scent.
Ghost turns back to me, arching his brow.
“You’ll get used to his sense of humor, but one thing about Link is that he’s the best man I know,” I say. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
Ghost snorts in a way that clearly means yet.
It’s fair enough.
Ghost needs time to trust any Beta, after what the last Beta put him through.
“How about I sit on the step, and you pretend that I’m not here? That way you can both enjoy breakfast.” Lincoln strolls to the bottom step and sprawls out on it.
Ghost growls again, eying the tray with distrust.
He’s too thin with dark shadows under his eyes.
Determined, I’m going to change that.
But first…
“I’m Candy,” I say. “I run the bakery in town. I know we haven’t met because I’d have remembered you.”
Hell, could I be more corny?
I flush, but Ghost looks pleased.
He looks around himself, before edging to the pile of technology and picking up an adapted iPhone.
“You have a phone?” I ask, surprised. “Why don’t you call for help?”
Ghost gives a bitter laugh, before typing on the text-to-speech on the phone.
As he types, the words are spoken aloud in an educated, American voice. “Who would I phone? I belong to the Saints. They own me. And hi, I’m Ghost. Sorry this isn’t more romantic as a meet-cute. We could pretend that the bulb is moonlight.”
I give a surprised laugh.
Ghost’s fingers hover over the screen, as his sharp gaze focuses on my face.
