Sinfully Scarred (Reckless Bastards MC 2)

“Just how my mama raised me.” He grinned and flashed those damn dimples that never hesitated to make my panties wet. Just a little. Okay, a lot.

“Lucky you.” I hadn’t seen my own mother in so long that I just stopped thinking about her and the family I used to have. The moment I realized that my overly religious family would probably compound what I’d gone through by rejecting me or worse, trying to fix me. I hoped they believed I was dead because it meant no one would come looking for me, and I could just stop talking about my past. Hell, I’d give anything if I could stop thinking about it.

“What do you want, Minx?”

I blinked and looked up to see a pretty Mexican waitress and Cash staring at me with concerned eyes. “Oh, um, I’ll have three fish tacos with extra guac, and a tall margarita on the rocks”—Cash looked at me with smiling eyes that shone with surprise— “and fresh chips and salsa please.”

“Healthy appetite,” he said once the waitress was gone.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. I love a woman who loves to eat.” He winked and sipped his water as if he hadn’t just put a dirty image in my mind. Like I often did when it came to Cash, I ignored the part of his statement I didn’t want to deal with.

“I doubt that. You strike me as the kind of guy who loves petite girls that nibble on salad as you regale them with the dangerous antics of a former SEAL while chomping on a big juicy steak.”

He laughed and dammit he looked so sexy, so inviting when his face softened in laughter. All the stress lines of years in battle disappeared, leaving him a devastating mess of blond hair, dimples, and glittering emerald eyes. “I would never presume to tell a woman what to order. If you ordered a taco salad I would judge you, but only silently.”

I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of me at his witty words. Despite the intensity I always spotted in him, he was a goofball with a wicked sense of humor. “I can handle your judgment,” I snapped. I was used to being judged.

“So, Minx,”—he sat back casually, a soothing smile on his face— “tell me about yourself.”

My gaze narrowed, and my bullshit detector rose. “What do you want to know?” I had no real experience dealing with men on a personal level like this other than the club, and those guys treated me like a little sister so I was out of my depth. Cash was foreign territory for me.

“Where are you from for starters?”

“I lived in Terre Haute before…everything.”

“Have you been back since you left?”

Since I left? He said it like I just moved away. “Nope.”

“Okay. Well how did you end up in Brently?”

I slammed my glass down, bullshit meter beeping like crazy now, and glared at him. “Seriously? Are you for real right now?” It was the worst kept secret in Brently, how Magnus rescued me and helped me get on my feet.

“I believe I am serious and for real,” he said cautiously like I was the crazy one who might lash out at any moment. “Should I know this information already?”

My brows furrowed in confusion. “The CAOS guys gossip liked old ladies, so how could you not know?”

He shook his head. “I asked Mick what your deal was, and he said to ask you. I tried Talon, and she said the same thing. So I’m asking you.”

I knew I could tell Cash the cold hard truth about my past and end this flirtation right now. He would look at me the way everyone else did once they knew. Like I was spun glass that required delicate handling. Like I was a bird with a broken wing. They didn’t sympathize with me—they pitied me, and I fucking hated that. “If you don’t know about my past, why are you always trying to help me? Fix me?”

He looked shocked. “Do I do that?”

“Feels like it,” I shot back honestly.

“I’m sorry about that, Minx.” He shrugged, not looking all that sorry. “I’m a man, a soldier, and a gentleman. If I see a woman carrying bags, it’s second nature to offer to carry them for her, to hold open doors, and offer help. If you want me to back off just say so. Don’t avoid me.”

“And you will? Back off?”

“I’ll try,” he replied with that devilish smile that said he wouldn’t try all that hard.

I sighed, grateful for the arrival of my margarita. “This isn’t the time to tell you. Maybe another time when we’re not in public.”

He leaned forward. “Will there be a time we’re together in a place that isn’t so public?”

“Maybe. Depends.”