Page 21 of Crash’s Secret

I lean in, so my mouth is only inches from hers. “I’ve fucked the same woman more than once. You know that. The whole county knows that. But I never went back because I wanted her. The offer was just there, so... why not? You’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted. Wanted the morning after. The small stuff. The in-between. I want you at my bar every day fixing my books, so I’ve got an excuse to look at you for hours. I want to keep making your ridiculous coffee. I want you bossing me around.” My lips brush against hers, just briefly, and she doesn’t pull back. “I haven’t worked out how I tell Saber. I might not survive working it out. He might kill me.”

Her laugh cracks through the tears, and it loosens a knot I’ve been carrying since she said goodnight in the parking lot.

“Until I figure out how to tell him, nobody can know. Not Shelby, not the girls. Gossip spreads fast here, which you’ve seen.” I take her jaw in my hand, thumb under her chin, and tip her face up. “But I want you to know, you’re mine.”

Her breathing goes uneven. “And you?”

“Yours.”

“No more sweetbutts? No more waitresses?”

“No more anybody. No more flirting, either.” She didn’t ask for that one. I give it to her, anyway. “That last part is going to take some work. I’m asking for forgiveness ahead of time if I fuck up.”

“You. Not flirting?” She sniffs, wipes her face on her own shoulder without letting go of my shirt. “The bar’s revenue is going to collapse. I’ll have to see it in the ledgers.”

“Put it under losses. Act of God.”

She pulls me down by the shirt, or I’m already moving.

The kiss is slow, and certain, and she tastes of salt, and I make myself a promise on the spot that I will never be the reason she cries again. She lies back on the bed, pulling me down by the shirt, and I go, because that’s exactly where I want to be.

My phone goes off in my pocket.

“Don’t,” she says against my mouth.

“Two seconds. I can’t ignore it. Saber is gone, and I’m in charge. It’s just a text.” I sit up and pull it out one-handed.

Duke: Tonight’s shipment never made the drop. Driver isn’t answering. Buyer is losing his mind. Your call, VP. What do we do?

I read it twice.

Fuck, this is not good.

Crimson Warriors have to be involved.

The guys from National left earlier this week.

That’s not bad luck. That’s a club that was waiting for the babysitters to leave.

“Crash?” Cassidy looks at my face, and whatever’s on it kills the softness in hers. She grew up in this life. It’s bad. “What happened?”

“Club business.” It comes out automatically. Women don’t get involved in this shit. She knows, but still, I feel the need to explain it to her. “The less you know, the safer you are. That’s the only reason I will ever say those two words to you. Okay?”

She nods, and she lets me go when I stand up.

“Lock the door behind me,” I tell her.

“Crash.” She stands, rushes over to me, and catches my hand at the door. Her thumb runs across my split knuckles, once. “Go be the VP. But be careful.”

I kiss her once. Fast and hard.

I go down the stairs with my phone in my fist and the taste of salt still on my tongue.

Saber is miles away. The Warriors picked tonight. The war is here.

CHAPTER 8

CRASH