Tragic

"So all you eat at home is fruit?" she asks, looking at my fridge.

"Nah, I eat everything, but I never go grocery shopping, so I just steal fruit from the baskets downstairs."

"But you have beer?" she adds, looking at the many different Colorado microbrews I have stashed in the fridge.

I grin at her. "OK, enough of your questions. Go eat your orange."

"So you make it to the liquor store and the fruit basket, but that's it? And you don't bring girls up here, but you do take them to some hidden harem room downstairs?"

I'm not sure if she's joking at this point.

"That's some picture you've painted in my head, Ronin."

I take her orange back and start peeling. The sooner she can eat it, the sooner she stops psychoanalyzing me. "That's not the picture I want you to have at all, Rook. I'm just your typical twenty-two-year-old guy."

"OK," she says, taking the orange back half-peeled. "I get it."

"Get what?" Somehow this whole day has turned against me and I'm not quite sure where it all went wrong. "I wasn't sending any messages, so I'm not sure what you get."

She hands the orange back and walks away.

"What?"

I let out a deep breath as the front door closes.

And I sit on the couch, absently flipping through channels, wondering how the f**k I just blew this whole day with a conversation about fruit baskets.

Chapter Twenty-Nine - ROOK

OK.

I'm certifiably stupid for just walking out over a fruit basket, but it's not about the fruit. It's about Elise's warnings. Both the one she gave me last night and the one she just gave Ronin downstairs. I only caught part of it, and maybe I don't know who Mardee is, but whatever happened to her, Elise thinks Ronin was the cause and Ronin was immediately defensive.

I'm no shrink, but I'm guessing that defensiveness comes up when you're playing defense. Which means he had something to do with the bad thing that happened to this Mardee girl, regardless of what he says.

I head straight for the door and skip down the stairs to get my own food from Cookie's. There's no baseball game today and lunch is technically over, so the streets are fairly quiet. I walk the block over to the diner in thought, then tell the hostess inside that "I belong to Ronin" and head back to the table. It's empty so I sink into the booth and grab a menu sitting behind the salt and pepper shakers.

Elise also said I needed stability and maybe Ronin doesn't fit that criteria. I think that bothers me a little more after he got all personal in the photoshoot than it did before. Before the shoot we were just flirting, but his hand went beyond flirting today. And then there was the little remark about Elise being protective of the girls he dates.

Why?

I mean, I don't consider us dating, but beyond that—why does Elise need to feel protective towards the girls he dates?

I order a salad and watch people as I wait. This place is still pretty busy for being almost three o'clock. A guy comes in who catches my eye. Not because he's hot, even though he is hot, but because from the minute he comes through the door he's watching me. I look behind me just to make sure, but there are no people dining behind me. He takes his attention to the hostess. He's got short messy hair, not quite blond, but not really brown either, and a little bit of facial hair. Enough to make him look rough, but not unkempt. The waitress points back to me and I watch the hot guy smile.

What the hell?

He starts walking towards me and once the counter is out of the way, it's hard to miss the fact that he's a biker. He's got the tell-tale biker boots on and they sound off a manly thud on the polished concrete floors as he approaches my booth. When he pushes up the sleeves on his white thermal I see what else he's got. Tattoos all over. Like everywhere.

He stops right in front of the booth and smiles down at me.

"Let me guess," I say sarcastically, "you belong to Ronin?"

He slides into the booth across from me and laughs. "Hey, if it gets me a seat here with you, I'll belong to that dickhead for an hour." He offers his hand. "Spence."

"Rook," I offer back as I shake his hand.

"Yeah, I figured. Antoine described you on the phone, but shit, he really played you down. You're perfect."

I twist my eyebrows at him. "Perfect for—?" and that's when Ronin walks into the diner. The hostess points back to us, but he doesn't need an invitation, he's already halfway down the aisle. I watch him very carefully, but whatever his deal is, it's got nothing to do with me because his eyes are blazing at my new dining companion.

"Spencer Shrike, what the f**k are you doing sitting in my booth talking to one of my girls?"

Oh, really! If these ass**le men weren't about to throw in the diner I would be so offended at that comment!

Spencer Shrike gets to his feet and claps Ronin on the back. "Good to see you too, ass**le. Now sit the f**k down. You know too f**king well I'm here on business. And now that I've met Rook, I'm more convinced than ever you guys deserve the STURGIS contract."

Ronin motions for me to move over and pushes on my upper arm a little to make me hurry. I shoot him a dirty look as I scoot, but he ignores me. "Rook has a job, sorry. I've already set up Bonnie and Val for you to try out tomorrow."

Spencer takes his attention to me as my salad arrives. We all sit back and shut up until the waitress leaves, but then Spence picks it up right where it left off. "Is that so, Rook? You're booked up through August?"