Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(49)

I had been informed of Gabriel’s dating habits on my first day when I met all the girls at Diamond Lounge.

Outwardly, I’d rolled my eyes and laughed it off. Inwardly, I’d crumbled. I f*cking hated that it was that easy to smash the house I was trying to rebuild, but it was. I was barely holding on to my sobriety. Which Gabriel had given me.

I thought, despite my bravado, my denial, that he had given me more.

That we were more.

I had actually hoped for it.

It was my own fault, really. Hope had been snuffed out of my world the moment the door creaked open that night. I’d been a f*cking idiot to try and relight that particular flame.

So I’d ignored the various calls and texts from him and hid, actually f*cking hid, when he turned up at Rosie’s. Luckily she covered for me with minimal inquisition.

“It’s complicated,” I told her after I’d straightened from my position from behind the sofa.

She nodded, sad understanding flickering in her eyes. “Isn’t it always?”

I had been uncharacteristically going to ask what she meant by that, what hid behind her multiple personas, but she spoke.

“Should we watch zombies rip apart what’s left of the human race and drool at Daryl in all of his unshowered glory to make us feel better?” she asked, flopping down on the sofa.

I grinned. “Yeah.”

So I hadn’t gotten to the deep and meaningful behind Rosie and her serial dating, but I thought it might have something to do with a certain law enforcement officer who’d turned up at our place and she was the one hiding behind the sofa.

“Wow,” I muttered when I opened the door to captain handsome.

“You’re Bex,” he greeted, his voice smooth and deep.

Very pleasing to the ears.

He was very pleasing to the eyes too, all tall and muscly and bone structure. A little too clean-cut for me.

I raised a brow, surprised he knew who I was. I’d kept a pretty low profile since I’d moved in with Rosie, but it was a small town. “You’re a cop, seriously? Or are you looking for a bachelorette party? Because you’ve got the wrong house. Have a nice night, though. Ginuwine’s ‘Pony’ is always a good opening.” I winked at him and tried to close the door.

His police issue boot stopped the motion. His eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Again, I was surprised. I didn’t expect Captain America to have a sense of humor.

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future, in case this line of work doesn’t go to plan. For now, I’ll stick to my current profession, enforcing the law.”

The way he said that rubbed me the wrong way and had all warm fuzzy feelings for Officer Hottie dissipating. I frowned up at him. “Well, enforce away. I think you have to seek crime in order to do that,” I replied.

He regarded me. “I’m looking for Rosie.”

I leaned against the doorframe to communicate how unwelcome he was inside it. “As far as I know, she hasn’t committed a crime. But she starts cooking meth in the kitchen you’ll be the first person I call.”

He frowned at me. “It’s not exactly preferable to joke about the cooking of drugs in front of the police.”

I put my hand on my chest. “Why, I’m ever so sorry, Officer,” I declared, with only a hint of sarcasm. “Drugs are bad and wrong. I know that. I did D.A.R.E in high school.”

He stared at me.

I stared back.

“Shouldn’t you be, you know, fighting crime, sending out bat signals?” I probed.

He folded his arms. “I’m lookin’ for Rosie.”

I nodded. “You mentioned.”

He sighed, obviously losing patience. I was surprised it took that long. If I were him, I would’ve gotten my gun out and winged me right here right now. “She here?”

“You got a warrant?”

His eyes widened. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re serious.”

I nodded. “As plaid on a golf course.”

Cue another stare off.

I totally won.

He yanked his very attractive cop aviators down onto his face. “You’ll let her know I came by?”

“It’ll be the first thing I do,” I told him with a smile.

He shook his head, then turned on his heel.

He might not be my flavor, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy watching him walk away.

So we were both hiding from men.

It just sucked mine had actually found me.

It sucked even more that I was glad he’d done so.

Gabriel’s brows knitted together. He stepped forward, intoxicating me with his presence. “It wasn’t any of them I spent the last two weeks with. Shared my f*ckin’ deepest darkest secrets with. Who I’ve had to damn near stalk just to see her beautiful face,” he murmured, his face close to mine. “Who I haven’t been able to get out of my f*ckin’ mind.” His eyes turned hard. “Now I see you here, not exactly the best place for you, given all the shit you’ve just come out the other side of. So I’ll repeat my earlier question. Why are you here?”

“Deep breaths,” I muttered, looking from his intense stare to my boots.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

I snapped my gaze up. “I’m not talking to you,” I barked. “I’m talking myself out of making a scene or committing murder.” I glanced around and noticed Gage leaning against the bar, chugging a beer but watching our exchange with his calculating gaze. “Though, given the ownership of such an establishment, I doubt I’d be the first to spill blood here.” I pulled myself away from him. “But I’m starting fresh. Trying my best not to do things like murder. Or drugs,” I added harshly. “And to address you’re earlier statement, I’m here to work. And I’m sure you’ll have some kind of caveman opinion on the woman you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you own taking her clothes off for money.” I paused, raising my brow. “But I’m going to tell you now, that opinion isn’t going to change a damn thing. So how about we skip all the chest pounding and arguing and go straight to you storming out of here once you’ve realized you can’t change who I am, or what I do for a living?”