Make Me Your Villain (Battle Crows MC 2)

I placed my hand over my heart and felt the crazy thumps that it produced at the sight of him.

Oh, man. He knew just how to make my heart happy, didn’t he?

“Who is that?” I heard my sister, Abby, whisper.

Callum started to look around the restaurant, completely ignoring the waitresses and hostess who were heading toward him.

It took him about two seconds to find me, and when he did, his eyes went hot.

He flashed me a grin that did crazy things to my heart and started heading toward me.

That’s when my family finally noticed that I was there.

Which hurt even more.

I’d been sitting practically right next to them, three tables away, and they’d completely missed my presence.

I didn’t turn to them and look at their expressions.

Didn’t really want to, to be honest.

But even if I’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have.

Mostly because one didn’t turn away from a man like Callum.

He was gorgeous, and so damn sexy in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, along with his cut, that it made it hard to breathe.

Hell, even his dirty brown boots, with bits of grass stains and blades of grass on them, were sexy.

I couldn’t stop the smile from lighting my face even if I’d tried.

He walked right up to me and grinned down at me before curving his big hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in close, and then planting a solid, sweet kiss on my upturned lips before pulling back.

“Hey,” I whispered. “When did you get here?”

He grinned. “That text you sent felt off to me… and I had this feeling you might need me. So I started driving this way. I wasn’t actually going to come see you, but I was going to be in the area because I just had…”

“A feeling,” I finished for him. “You were right. I needed you.”

He tilted his head, his eyes flashing over the length of my body before stopping on my hand that was fisted in my shirt. “What happened?”

I didn’t want to tell him.

In fact, I didn’t want him to hate my family.

Because I had no doubt in my mind that he’d be upset for me.

I opened my mouth to say ‘nothing’ but then I heard my sister say ‘why is he kissing her?’

And I felt my eyelid start to twitch.

Callum’s eyes went from my twitching eyelid to my sister and then back.

I felt my lips thin as I heard her next comment.

“Wow, he’s hot. Definitely don’t see how they’re together.”

I sighed and felt his hand tighten, fisting my hair and making my heartbeat start to pound.

“You keep dreaming, honey,” I heard Anderson’s wife snicker. “Your sister is hot, just like you are. But in a very different way. Where you attract the pretty boys, the ones that don’t get their hands dirty, your sister attracts the rough ones. Obviously, as evidenced by the man that’s holding on to her like his life depends on it.”

Sometimes, I loved the heck out of Davina’s ways.

She was blunt, brutally honest, and sometimes so achingly truthful that it hurt to hear.

But today, at least she was on my side.

“You keep looking at her like you want to be in her shoes,” my brother whispered. “You would probably cry if his callused hands touched your delicately soft skin.”

At that, I burst out laughing.

Anderson was right.

My sister had men that got manicures twice a week. Ones that worked in offices, and wouldn’t be caught dead in the sun, let alone mowing his own grass.

She wouldn’t be caught dead dating someone that mowed lawns for a living.

Me, on the other hand…

“Sit,” I urged, pointing at the other side of the table. “Do you want something to drink?”

Through all of this, the waiter had stayed at the side of my table, watching the spectacle.

It was when I saw his eyes take in Callum’s body that I realized why.

He found Callum just as attractive as I did.

Then again, I didn’t blame him. Not when you looked at Callum and you felt things inside of you come to life that you never knew could breathe.

“What, exactly, was that about?” he asked as he helped me into my seat, and then took the one across from me.

“Umm...” I hesitated. “My sister is kind of crazy.”

His eyes focused on me as he reached for a roll, and then the butter.

He lathered one up and then took a bite so big that he might as well have eaten the whole thing.

I offered him another one—after I buttered it—and then he ate that one in two bites, one big and one small, too.

“I’ll take a sweet tea, but only if it’s actually sweet. I don’t want one of those watered-down versions of ice and some tea. I want it strong and sweet. No lemon because that’s fuckin’ gross. You order any appetizers, baby?”