“Pretty sure you were yelling at me about something,” he rumbles, sticking his handsome face next to my open window.
“Ummm, you’re kind of in my personal space,” I tell him, frowning. “And I was simply explaining that you can’t park here, but I don’t think you’re going to move your bike, so . . .”
“You’d be right about that,” he says cheerfully, glancing over me. He takes in my scrubs, my dark hair tied on top of my head, and my face, which probably has food on it or something. “You work here?”
I glance down at myself. “Nope. I just sit here in my car and yell at assholes who park where they’re not supposed to.” I smirk. I can be seriously witty sometimes.
“So you’re a meter maid?” he jokes.
Fine. Two can play at that game.
“Yes, except this is the outfit I prefer. I like to keep things interesting,” I fire back, dusting some crumbs off my pants and packing away my garbage, getting ready to return to my shift.
“So you’re into role play, then?” he replies, winking at me.
I blink slowly a few times. This is not how I thought the conversation was going to go. “Yeah, no” is my reply.
I wind up both my windows and get out of my car, with him stepping back to give me space before the door hits him.
“I would have opened your door,” he says.
“Should have been quicker,” I reply, sliding the strap of my bag over my arm. “Not all of us sit around waiting for a man to assist us.”
“Some just sit alone in cars stuffing their faces? Who knew this was where I’d have to look to find a decent woman,” he murmurs, walking next to me to the entrance of the aged-care home.
“All the decent women are probably hiding from you,” I mutter under my breath.
“Highly likely. What’s your name?” he asks me, watching me from the corner of his eye.
“Why?”
“Because I’d like to know the name of the beautiful woman who was yelling at me out of her car window,” he says with a wolfish grin. “I’m Rogue.”
“Rogue?” I ask, brow arching.
He nods.
“Oh,” I mutter. He’s serious. His name is Rogue. I’ve never heard of anyone with the name, but maybe it’s a nickname, I don’t know. I guess he’ll never be forgotten with a name like that.
“And you are?” he pushes.
“Late for work,” I reply, quickening my steps.
He blocks me with his large build, standing in front of the entrance, arms crossed over his chest. “How much trouble do you get in if you’re late?”
Not much, considering this would make it the only time this year that it’s happened.
“Are you always this nosy?” I fire back, moving to his right, and then left, trying to go around him but failing as he blocks off all my attempts.
“Yes. Now, what’s your name?” he continues, not letting up.
He’s clearly a stubborn man, and I hate that I give in to him, but I do need to get my ass clocked back in, and I don’t want my boss to see me standing out in front chatting with someone instead of working.
“Zoe,” I tell him. I sound a little unhappy about that fact. “My name is Zoe.”
“Nice to officially meet you, Zoe.”
“The pleasure is all yours,” I reply, grinning.
“There’s a thing as being too sassy, you know?” he says, but he can’t keep the amusement out of his voice.
“I’m not for everyone,” I reply, shrugging and smiling to myself. “You’re visiting someone here, then?” I ask as I walk inside with him next to me.
“Yeah,” he replies, all the humor gone from his face and his voice, as if he suddenly remembered why he was here, and it wasn’t to have silly banter with some stranger he met in the parking lot. I regret asking the question instantly, his mood has changed so dramatically.
“I’m here to see my mom,” he explains, hands sliding into his pockets, that blue gaze pinned to his black leather biker boots. “If she remembers me today, anyway.”
“Oh,” I whisper. His mom is a resident here. Of course, why else would he be here?“Do you want me to sign you in at the front desk?” I ask him gently, waiting for him to look at me. When he does, I’m hit with all of his emotions full-force.
His raw pain.
His helplessness.
Guilt.
Suffering.
I’ve seen all of this before in the eyes of friends, and family members of the residents here, but for some reason seeing it in his makes my chest go tight.
“I’m sorry,” I say to him, my voice full of sincerity.
And after what I see here, day after day, I mean it.
I am sorry.
Because there are no happy endings here.
Don’t miss the rest of the sizzling Cursed Ravens series!
As the new “princess” of the Cursed Ravens, Erin is learning a whole new world, but her father has made it clear she is off limits. Will Ace follow his President’s orders or will he put his heart ahead of his duty?
Ace of Hearts
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Love blossoms in the most unexpected of places in this sweet and steamy Cursed Ravens Motorcyle Club novel featuring a hunky bad boy and a charming nurse.
Going Rogue
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The Cursed Ravens Series
Ace of Hearts*
The Conflict of Interest Series
Breaching the Contract*
Seducing the Defendant
Approaching the Bench*
Leading the Witness
The Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club Series
Dragon’s Lair
Arrow’s Hell
Tracker’s End
Dirty Ride*
Rake’s Redemption
Wild Ride*
Wolf’s Mate
Last Ride*
Crossroads
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Pocket Star Books
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Chantal Fernando
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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition July 2018
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Cover design by Patrick Kang
Cover image © Yarlander/Shutterstock (woman on bike); © Krasovski Dmitri/Shutterstock (old brick background)
ISBN 978-1-5011-7297-7 (eBook)
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