Page 12 of Wade’s Wrath

“Good,” she said. If she was going home with him, she needed to know exactly what she was walking into.

“You're not sleeping on it, though,” he insisted.

She groaned. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “I won’t sleep with you, Wade.”

He rolled his eyes at her and smiled. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me, Harlow. You're taking the bed.”

“I'm not taking your bed,” she said.

“Why the hell not?” he asked.

“Because it's your bed. I can take the sofa,” she insisted.

“I own it. I'll decide who sleeps in it,” he said. Her cheeks heated and his eyes darkened slightly. “That sounded different in my head,” he admitted. A laugh escaped her before she could stop it—a real laugh, and the sound startled her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed without first checking who was around to hear it. Frank didn’t allow sudden outbursts.

Wade stared at her. “What’s funny?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she lied. “You're staring.”

“You should do that more,” he said.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Laugh,” he breathed. “I’m betting that's something you don’t do very often.” Her smile disappeared because there was something about the way he said it. He wasn’t flirting or teasing, but just making a quiet observation.

Harlow's throat tightened. “Maybe I'll have a reason to now.” She shrugged. Wade held her gaze, and for one terrifying second, she wondered if he was going to say something that would make the strange pull between them impossible to ignore. Instead, he reached beneath the bar and grabbed his keys.

“Come on, runaway bride,” he teased.

Harlow frowned. “Don't call me that.”

“Runaway Princess?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Try it and see what happens.”

His grin appeared on his handsome face again, and damn if the man wasn't devastating when he smiled. “Come on, Harlow.” That was better. She followed him toward the back entrance, but the second Wade opened the door and cold night air swept inside, Harlow stopped. Fear slammed into her again as she looked out at the dark parking lot. Wade immediately noticed, and he stepped outside first and scanned the lot, and then he looked back at her.

“Clear,” he said. Her feet refused to move, and Wade didn't rush her. He didn’t tell her she was being ridiculous. He simply stood in the rain waiting. “You're safe,” he said. Harlow wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to, but she was afraid.

Wade held out his hand to her, and she knew that it was now or never. She took a deep breath and stepped outside, taking his offered hand. Wade stayed beside her all the way to his truck. When he opened the passenger door, Harlow climbed inside and locked it before he had even walked around the front, and he seemed to notice, but he didn't comment.

A minute later, Wade slid behind the wheel and started the engine. Harlow watched Wade's Watering Hole disappear behind them. She should have been terrified about where she was going. She was getting into a truck with a man she'd met only a few hours ago. He was a biker, a stranger, and a man who carried a gun like it was another limb. Yet as Wade drove through the rain, Harlow found herself sinking deeper into the seat. For the first time since she'd climbed out the bathroom window at the wedding venue, her body began to relax, and her eyelids grew heavy.

“You can sleep,” Wade said.

“I don't sleep around strangers,” she said.

“Good policy.”

She glanced at him, but his eyes stayed on the road. “Wade?”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked.

His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel, and for several seconds, he didn't answer. Then he shrugged. “You walked into my bar.” Harlow waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“That can't be the whole reason,” she insisted.