Blacklisted (Loveless, Texas #3) - Jay Crownover Page 0,74

mine they were filled with all the confusion and regret I’d done my damnedest to eradicate last night. “I’m still not entirely sure what you see in me.”

I grunted and leaned forward. I caught one of her nervous hands in mine and rubbed my thumb over the back of it.

“I see all the things you don’t see. I see how strong you are. I see how resilient you are. I see how brave you are. I see how sexy you are. All the things you’ve always overlooked, I see them clear as day.” She watched me with wide eyes as I lifted the hand in mine to my lips and dropped a quick kiss on it. “And I never dated Darlie, so she isn’t technically my ex. Neither is Kody. They are just women I spent some time with at one point or another. We weren’t together. There was no breakup.” I made sure she could see how serious I was when I told her, “With you, we are definitely doing more than spending time together, and if you want to get rid of me, you’re going to have to say the words. I’m not walking away without a backward glance like I usually do. I don’t know how to date any more than you do, but I’m making the effort. That should show you I’m not doing it out of any obligation because you saved my life. I’m doing it because I want to.”

I meant every word I was saying, but it also served a secret purpose. I knew Felicia was hovering close by waiting for a good time to drop our drinks and take our order. The woman was a huge gossip and wouldn’t wait even a second before spreading my conversation with Presley to anyone who would listen. Ashby Grant was bound to get the news Presley had a man in her life if she was keeping tabs on anyone in Loveless.

“And while I am eternally grateful you showed up that night when Kody called you in a panic, I have never, not once, felt obligated to repay you with my dick.”

Presley’s eyes bugged out and I heard a shocked gasp from somewhere over my shoulder. Felicia was getting more than an earful and had apparently had enough. Our drinks were plopped down in front of us, some of the coffee sloshing over the rim of the mug and hitting the table. She hurriedly asked what we wanted to order. I got a burger and Presley ordered a club sandwich. It was honestly the closest thing to a real date I’d ever been on, which made the underlying subterfuge behind it twist in my gut.

Presley played with the straw in her drink as she switched the conversation to somewhat safer ground.

“The girl who sat us said she hadn’t seen you and the boys in a while. Do you and the club members spend a lot of time in Loveless? Your clubhouse is pretty far out in hill country.”

“We come to town when we need to. I don’t know how much of the ranch you saw that night, but we pretty much have everything we need out on the property. It’s better if we stay off the sheriff’s radar. Case was just a deputy when we set up this chapter of the club, but he’s never been overly fond of us or our proximity to his town.”

“How did you end up in Loveless in the first place? And where are you from originally? You don’t have any kind of discernible accent.”

I chuckled at that. “I was born and raised in Denver. That’s where the Sons of Sorrow were founded. My dad was stationed at Fort Carson when he was in the service and fell in love with the state.” I snorted at old, bitter memories as they started to rise up from the very dark and deep pit inside my heart where I kept them locked away. “His bike. His club. His brothers. And Colorado. Those were pretty much the only things my father ever gave a damn about.”

She made a sympathetic sound. “Is that how you ended up in Texas? Were you stationed here?”

I shook my head and reached for the coffee. “Nope. I had an uncle—or rather one of the club members who stepped up and helped raise me, since my dad wasn’t interested—and he was from here. When I enlisted, he left the club and bought the ranch where our clubhouse is. He grew up