Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“Definitely not,” I answered softly.

Her nose scrunched. “Is there anything that would cause you to get arrested? Or something that would end this date with me running for my life from a secret spy ring?”

“Nothing that exciting.”

The door opened, and our waitress arrived with our appetizers. She placed them in front of us and disappeared after we thanked her.

“Okay, then I’d rather eat dinner with my boyfriend and explore this beach house fantasy than watch you sit there uncomfortably. I don’t want any truths you’re not ready to give. I know what it’s like to have everyone know something about you before you want them to. If you ever want them to. I won’t ever put you in that position.”

Damn it. I didn’t deserve this woman.

“Eat.” She shooed at me with her fingers. “And tell me. Would you rather go north for the beach or south?”

Just like that, the tension ebbed out of my shoulders, and I started to enjoy our meal. I was ready to tell her. That box on her bed said it all. As soon as we got to her place, I was going to let her in—let her all the way into my life, and then pray it was somewhere she wanted to stay.

“That was so good,” she said as we walked through the crowded restaurant, heading for the door.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I told her, keeping my hand on the small of her back to guide her through the door.

“You’re the R8,” the valet said with a grin.

“You got it,” I answered, nodding at the teen, who promptly ran toward the nearest lot to get my car.

The crowds were thick for a Friday night, and I tucked Delaney under my arm to keep her from getting jostled.

“So I have this problem,” I told her as another group passed us.

“Oh?” She looked up at me with expectant eyes.

“I really want to see you tomorrow night, but I have to work.” Excitement crept up through my nervous system. What if I was worried for nothing?

“Well, that stinks, because I happen to have tomorrow night off.” She wrapped her arm around my waist.

“How about you come see me at work?” Fuse lit. Door opened. All the trite analogies I could think of flew through my mind.

“I can do that?” She did that nose scrunch thing again, and I kissed her because I simply had to.

“It would be more like watching me work,” I admitted. “But I’ve heard that some people find it very exciting.”

“Really. Exactly how many people are some people?” She rested her hand on my chest as a trio of guys stumbled out of the bar next door.

One of them immediately headed to the curb to call a cab. At least the idiots weren’t driving.

“Eh, about eighteen thousand, give or take,” I replied, bending to kiss her again.

She froze in my arms.

“Delaney?” I lifted my head to see that she wasn’t focused on me, but one of the guys near the curb. “Baby?”

Her hands turned to fists, gripping my suit with white knuckles, and her pupils dilated as her eyes widened. She was terrified. Of what?

“Delaney, baby, talk to me,” I moved my hands to her face, willing her gaze to meet mine, but it didn’t.

“Holy shit, if it isn’t Delaney Collins,” one of the guys slurred.

He had my immediate, full attention. I turned and shifted so I stood between him and Delaney, blocking him from her sight in hopes that she’d regain the use of her words. The guy was a good four inches shorter than I was, with a decent build and shitty balance as he swayed.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Don’t,” Delaney whispered.

I gave the guy my back and pulled Delaney against me. “Who is he?”

The fire that had ignited in my gut at the casual way he used her name told me I already knew, but I wanted to be wrong.

“Ex,” she whispered, her eyes still wide, but her muscles releasing their flight-or-fight lockdown. “Handcuffs. Drainpipe. Pictures.”

I saw red.

“Logan!” Delaney shouted, but I was already halfway to the asshole.

“Whoa, aren’t you—”

I shut his mouth with my fist, slamming it into his face with all the force in my body. The right hook sent his drunk, abusive ass spinning until he landed in a heap on the concrete.

“Fuck you. Don’t talk to her. You don’t get to say her name. Do you understand me, you piece of shit?” I stood over him long enough to make sure he wasn’t going to get up, and then I headed back to Delaney.

She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, covering her mouth as she stared at me.

“Damn, Jeff, he knocked you the fuck out!”

“You’d better put some ice on that ten-million-a-year hand,” the other guy called after me.

My stomach dropped, but I was too full of rage to give a full fuck.