Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(28)

“It isn’t safe, Trace,” he said in hushed tones. “Just trust me, okay?”

“Then why are we getting frozen yogurt?”

At that he smiled, but still refused to answer. I called false to his whole I’m hungry statement. Right, he’s hungry. He wasn’t the one going on a no-cow diet for the past week.

The food court was decent. Not many people were scattered around either, which I was thankful for. Our security detail basically circled us as we went into the small frozen yogurt shop and grabbed our cups.

“Okay, what do I do?” I held the cup in my hand and stared at him.

“Uh…” Nixon scratched his head. “You eat it?”

“The cup?”

“No, not the cup.” Nixon barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding right? You’ve never had self-serve?”

I swallowed and looked down feeling all kinds of stupid. “Look, just forget it.” I tried to shove the cup back in his hand, but instead he grabbed my wrist and flipped me around to face a giant contraption on the wall.

I could swear this guy’s body heat could start a fire if he so desired. “Read the flavors…” he ordered.

“Out loud?” I snapped.

“Hmm, I think I may like that.”

Okay, he was standing way too close to me. I could practically taste the minty gum he was chewing. Focus, Trace. Focus. I was just a plaything. Oh great, I was what rich boys resorted to when they were bored. Well, at least he hadn’t called me Farm Girl for a while. “New York Cheesecake, Blueberry, Chocolate Chip, Vanilla, Chocolate, Cake Batter…”

“Why do they sound better coming from your lips, do you think?” Nixon whispered in my ear.

Holy hell, I couldn’t feel my legs. The guy had me absolutely paralyzed.

“Want a sample?” He moved from behind me and grabbed a small pink spoon. Pink looked good on him, less scary, but not less hot. Unfortunately…

I briefly closed my eyes and imagined him in a Barbie minivan hoping to expel the way his masculinity made me want to strip down to nothing and throw caution to the wind.

“Open.” I opened my eyes and my mouth, since I really didn’t have a say in the matter. But then again, it was Nixon. I wasn’t given a vote. Ever. The frozen yogurt was cold and creamy against my tongue. “You like?”

Oh such an open-ended question. His eyes hooded as he dipped his head closer to mine, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his plump lips as they descended. His warm mouth was suddenly on mine and then like the little tease he was, it was gone.

“Sorry, I thought I saw some frozen yogurt, my mistake.” He laughed and backed away.

Ass. “Liar,” I said, breathlessly pushing past him. “So what, do I just pull on one of these thingies?”

“Well, I prefer the word stroke but—”

My face erupted into flames. I jerked my head away and managed to shakily add some frozen yogurt in the cup. I didn’t even look to see what flavor it was. I just knew I had to get the hell out of there before I allowed Nixon to get any closer.

The guy had already threatened to destroy me.

He proved he could do it.

So he was suffering from temporary insanity and being nice, all because of my necklace? Or was it because of what happened at school?

Lost in thought, I started putting toppings on my frozen yogurt.

“Wow, didn’t take you for the gummy worm type of girl.”

“Huh?”

Nixon pointed to the cup in my hand where I had somehow stacked five gummy worms on my yogurt. “Uh, yeah, I love… worms.” Classic. Someone should record the gold that flows from my mouth.

Nixon licked his lips. I could see the ghost of a smile dancing across them. This was the most I’d seen him smile… in forever. I both liked it and hated it. On one hand it nearly killed me every time he directed a smile in my direction, because I knew it wasn’t just fleeting but fake. Nixon wasn’t the type that offered something without taking something in return, and I knew my payback was coming up.

“Ready?” the bored teenager at the till asked.

“Yup.” I handed him my cup, he placed it on a scale and then placed Nixon’s on the scale. “Twelve dollars and nineteen cents.”

For yogurt?

I kept my mouth shut while Nixon handed over his card.

The kid glanced at the card and then did a double-take. His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it closed. At least he wasn’t shaking like the last cashier. With a quick swipe he handed back the card and the receipt.

We started to walk out, but he spoke up. “Um, I know this sounds really dumb, but can I have your autograph?”

Nixon froze. His nostrils flared as he looked at me and then handed me his frozen yogurt. I watched his right hand clench and unclench as he walked up to the kid. Holy crap he was going to punch him in the face.

“Sure thing…” He bent over the counter and signed a napkin the kid had handed to him. “What’s your name?”

“John.” The guy looked like he just met Brad Pitt.

Nixon scribbled something and then handed the napkin back to John. “We have an understanding, John? Nobody knows we were here?”

John’s eyes widened and then Nixon leaned over the counter. “I need to hear you say it, John.”