Deadly Oath

7. Kian

7

KIAN

S he jerks away from the lockers so quickly that I’m sure she thinks I didn’t see what she was doing—or about to do—but I saw it, alright. I know exactly where her fingers were about to wander, and just the thought of it sends a bolt of hot lust straight down to my cock—which I only just finally convinced to settle down.

I had half a mind to stand there while her eyes were closed, and see exactly how far she’d go with this. But that felt like a step too far, especially after last night.

I smirk as her eyes fly open, her face turning bright red. “What’re you doing in here?”

A look of panic flits over her face. “Exploring,” she says quickly. “I’ve never gone to a gym like this before. I thought I’d take a look around.”

I chuckle, enjoying watching her scramble a bit. I’m not sure if she realizes that I know what she was thinking about, but she’s embarrassed all the same. “I could help you figure out a workout routine, if you want.” I raise an eyebrow suggestively. “I find it hard to believe you’ve never worked out before, though.” I let my gaze trail down her slim, taut body, and her blush deepens even further .

“I had a trainer,” she says tartly, her chin tipping up in what’s becoming a familiar gesture. “And a workout room in my home.”

“Fancy.” A bolt of possessive heat, entirely unfamiliar to me, jolts through me at the thought of some other man guiding her through her workouts, touching her, looking at her as she stretches and moves. “Well, I’m happy to take that spot. Won’t even charge you.”

“I bet.” Sabrina looks at me assessingly. “You’re not even supposed to be in here.”

“Well, I couldn’t find you, so I came looking. You ready to go get dinner?”

Her teeth graze her lower lip, and I see her gaze quickly flit over me, taking in the dark jeans and dark red, long-sleeved henley I changed into. Respectable enough for dinner in this town, even with my hair slicked back, still wet, and a pair of motorcycle boots for my footwear. I can tell from the small quirk to her mouth that she likes what she sees, even if she’s too thrown off-balance to admit it.

“Sure,” she says quickly, following me out of the locker room. I grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and gesture to where my truck is parked as we walk out of the gym and I lock up.

“Did you drive over?”

She flushes again, and I recall that I didn’t see any kind of vehicle in her driveway. “No car?”

“I moved here from the city,” she says defensively. “No need for a car in Chicago.”

“True enough. Did you walk all the way over here?” I look at her curiously, raising an eyebrow. “Just to thank me for earlier?”

“It’s not that far.” Sabrina’s posture is more closed off now, her walls all going rapidly back up, one after the other.

“Well, we’ll take the truck to dinner, then. Any preference on where we go? This is a date, after all.” I grin at her, and she frowns a little as I unlock the passenger door, opening it for her.

“I’m not very familiar with what there is to eat in town,” she admits. “I’ve been to the grocery store and coffee shop, but other than that, I haven’t gotten out much.”

"No problem. I know just the place." I close her door and walk around to the driver's side, sliding in behind the wheel. As I start the engine, I catch her eyeing the interior of my truck. It's nothing fancy, but it's clean and well-maintained. I’d rather drive it than the squad car I was assigned.

I pull out of the parking lot and head toward Main Street. The silence between us is thick with tension, and I can practically feel her nervousness radiating off her. “So, if that was your first kiss, is this your first date?”

Sabrina presses her lips together, twisting her fingers in her lap. “That obvious, hm?”

“Just an educated guess.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “This is my first date. Unless you count meeting the guys that my dad tried to set me up with at big family events. But I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think I’d count that, either,” I tell her with a chuckle. “None of them made the cut, then.”

It’s not a question. Sabrina is quiet, and I can tell she’s not enjoying this particular line of conversation. She glances out of the window as I pull out onto the road, and I try to think of a way to shift to something else. I want to draw her out and get her to tell me more.

"So, Chicago, huh? What made you decide to move to this little town?"

Sabrina shifts in her seat, and I hear her click her tongue against her teeth. "I needed a change of pace. Somewhere quieter."

I nod. I’m sure there’s more to the story, but I’m not about to force it out of her. She’ll tell me herself, in time. "Well, you certainly found that here. Not much excitement in these parts. I think quiet should be on the welcome sign.”

Sabrina laughs softly at that, and I feel a small surge of triumph at having broken through her tension, if only for a moment. "That’s one word for it,” she agrees. “Except?—”

I glance over at her curiously. “Except, what?”

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Just me not being used to sleeping without the sounds of the city, I suppose. It’s quiet during the day, but I keep thinking that I hear sounds at night. Something in the bushes. Twigs cracking. Footsteps, that kind of thing.” A sheepish look crosses her face. “I know I’m overreacting.”

My heart thumps in my chest, thinking of last night and how I watched her through the window. “How often have you heard that?”

Sabrina bites her lip. “I’ve always heard noises. Animals in the woods, I guess. The wind. But I feel like there have been more in the last couple of weeks. I’ve even walked around the house, looking to see if there’s any evidence that anyone’s been creeping around, but I haven’t seen footprints, or anything like that.”

My heart thumps again, thinking of her seeing the evidence that I left behind. I feel an odd jolt of lust, picturing it, the thought making my cock twitch.

I’m not sure what to think of what she’s saying. If it’s been a couple of weeks, then she’s talking about more than just me looking in on her last night. That much is a relief—that she’s not specifically thinking of what she might have heard last night. But close on the heels of that relief is a different concern—that someone else is looking in on Sabrina.

That same hot jolt of possessive jealousy that I felt when she mentioned her trainer shoots through me, curdling my stomach. She’s mine, I think abruptly, even though I have no real claim on her yet. No one else’s.

It’s fully dark by now, and the sign outside of Blue Moon, one of two actual restaurants in town—besides Chrissy’s Diner—is lit up. I pull into the parking lot, glancing over at Sabrina. “How’s this? I hear they have the best burgers in the county, although I haven’t tried this particular spot yet.”

Sabrina eyes the small, rustic-looking restaurant with interest. “It looks charming,” she says, her gaze sweeping over it, and I chuckle as I kill the engine. “You haven’t been here before?”

“I thought we could both try something new.” I grin at her. “Come on. Let’s get you fed, since you’re certainly not gonna do it yourself.”

She wrinkles her nose at me, but slides out of the truck when I come around and open her door, accepting my hand to help her out. Her hand feels warm and soft against mine, and I resist the urge to tighten my hand around hers and pull her in close to me.

As we walk into the restaurant, I see Sabrina’s gaze dart around, taking in every detail. The restaurant itself is the nicer of the two, with exposed wooden beams at the ceiling, and rustic, knotted-pine booths with smooth leather upholstery. It’s small, and smells warmly of fries and crackling grease, but the owners definitely put some effort into trying to make it seem a bit more upscale. The lighting is soft, coming from an iron chandelier at the ceiling, and someone installed Edison bulbs over the oak-topped bar.

From the way Sabrina looks around, it seems like the aesthetic is entirely unfamiliar to her. She looks halfway between nervous and amused, and I watch her reactions, enjoying the shifting emotions on her face. I feel like every expression is telling me a little more about her, before she means to reveal it herself. It feels thrilling, much like last night did. Like stripping away her defenses, one at a time, until I see who this mysterious woman truly is.

“Table for the two of you?” A pretty blonde waitress hurries up to the hostess stand, menus in hand, and I nod.

“Yes, please.” Instinctively, my hand goes to the small of Sabrina’s back, as we follow the waitress to one of the booths near a window. I feel her tense slightly at my touch, but she doesn’t pull away. Not like she did out on the trail, when she started walking faster just to get away from my hand on her back.

Something shifted between us when I kissed her tonight. I gave her a taste of something that she’s never had before, and she wants more of it. I can feel her nervousness—but I think there’s anticipation there, too.

She wants to go slow, and I’ll give her that. I don’t want to frighten her off. But at the same time, just being near her feels intoxicating. Everything about kissing her, every touch and every gasp, the feeling of her under my hands and mouth, and the way I now know for certain that I’m her first in every possible way—it all made me want to do anything other than go slow .

We slide into opposite sides of the booth, and Sabrina asks for water with lemon, while I order an ale on draft. She opens her menu, her eyes widening slightly as she scans it.

“Everything alright?” I ask, and she glances up at me, an uncertain look crossing her face.

“I’m just excited to eat something that isn’t microwaved,” she says, a little defensively, and I chuckle.

“This is all a little more rustic than you’re used to, isn’t it, princess?”

Her eyes snap up to mine. “I don’t like that nickname.”

“Don’t you?” I smirk, letting my gaze drift over her face. “You say you don’t like it, but I see the way you suck in a breath when I say it. The way your face colors a little. I don’t think it’s entirely because it makes you mad. Or maybe you just like it when I make you mad, princess .”

“You’re very observant,” she says tartly, her eyes dropping back down to her menu.

“Part of the job.” I shrug, glancing at mine. I know what I’m going to order almost as soon as I look at the offerings, and I set it back down, leaning back in the booth.

“Like rescuing me from a rattlesnake and barging in when I nearly start a kitchen fire?”

“Exactly that.” I grin at her. “Now that you mention it, I have rescued you twice now. What do you think it’ll be next time?”

“There won’t be a next time.” Sabrina sets her menu down, too. “I’m learning how to take care of myself. I cleaned up that entire mess left in the kitchen, I’ll have you know. It’s sparkling clean now.”

“I’m guessing that’s something you haven’t done often? Cleaning?” I glance down at her hands. The knuckles are slightly reddened, and there’s a shallow cut on the side of her thumb, as if she nicked it on something in the sink. “Along with cooking, driving, and learning basic trail safety?”

“Did you just ask me on this date to tell me about my shortcomings?” Sabrina taps her fingers against the laminated menu. “Next, you’re going to criticize what I’m ordering for dinner.”

“What are you ordering? ”

She pauses, her lips thinning briefly. “The Cobb salad.”

“Dressing on the side?”

Her eyes narrow, and I know that’s exactly what she’s going to ask for.

“Come on, princess. Live a little. Get something that you couldn’t get back in Chicago, or at least not as good as you could get it here.” I lean forward, tapping the menu. “Order this.”

Sabrina looks at where my finger hovers over the venison burger. “And fries, too,” I add. “You’ll be fine. I bet you haven’t eaten a full meal since you moved here. I’m paying anyway, so you might as well enjoy it.”

“We could go Dutch.” Sabrina narrows her eyes at me. “I can pay for my half.”

“Sure, but you’re not going to.” I lean back easily in the booth, smiling at her. “I asked you out on this date, so I’ll pay.”

“You’re arrogant, you know that?” She frowns. “It seems to be one of your primary personality traits.”

“I think you like it.”

She hesitates, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. The waitress chooses that moment to reappear, breaking up the tension a little, and we both put in our orders. A roast beef dip for me, with a side of horseradish sauce and sweet potato fries. I wait for Sabrina to defy me and order her Cobb salad, but the burger must have piqued her interest, because she orders that, medium well, with all the toppings. And a side of parmesan fries.

“Why did you move here?” she asks as the waitress walks away. “You know a little of why I did. But from what I’ve heard, you slipped in and took over Wayne’s spot rather abruptly. Do you know him well?”

“I have connections.” I take a sip of my beer. “You must have gotten to know him, since you’re on a first-name basis.”

Sabrina does laugh at that, one of the first real laughs I’ve gotten from her. “No,” she admits. “I only met him once, when he showed up similarly to how you did, checking in on the new resident in town. But everyone in town seems to have known and loved him. And Marie refers to him by his first name so much that I think it rubbed off.” She hesitates. “Maybe I am starting to settle in a little.”

“That’s a good thing, right? You’re planning to stick around, aren’t you?”

Sabrina hesitates again, then nods. “Yes. For the foreseeable future, anyway. I don’t—have a lot of plans, right now. I had to leave some things behind pretty abruptly. Family issues.”

“Family can be difficult.” I watch her expression as she says it, curious as to whether or not she’ll give me more. But she just laughs drily.

“You have no idea.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” I chuckle, reaching for my beer. “We all have families, close or far away.”

“Do you want to tell me about yours?” She tilts her head, and I press my lips together tightly.

“Not particularly. Do you want to tell me more about yours?”

Sabrina shakes her head quickly. “No. Not particularly.”

“Well, then.” I take another drink, setting the glass back down. “We’ll avoid that topic for the time being, then.”

The waitress brings us our food a moment later, setting it down in front of each of us, and asking if we need anything else. Sabrina’s eyes widen at the size of the burger in front of her. “I’m going to have to take half of this home.”

“Well, that’s one less meal for you to risk burning your house down trying to make.”

She snorts, picking up a fry and dipping it into the ramekin of ketchup. “And I suppose you’re an amazing cook.”

“I get by, if I need to. But mostly, I go out for meals,” I admit. “Dinner, anyway. I can whip up bacon and eggs for breakfast, and throw together a sandwich for lunch. But cooking isn’t my forte.”

“But it should be mine?” Sabrina looks at me archly. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”

I chuckle at that. “No. But I did think you’d at least be able to make an attempt without setting a pan on fire. That’s an almost impressive level of failure. I can’t say I’ve ever had that happen. ”

Sabrina flushes. “I don’t really know how I managed it, either. One second, I was trying to cook chicken, the next?—”

“Well, it’s just an excuse for me to take you out again.” I grin at her, reaching for my sandwich. “There’s one more perfectly good restaurant here and a diner, so that’s at least two more dates.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Sabrina eyes the burger, reaching for it as if it might bite her instead. “I haven’t even decided if I’m enjoying this one, yet.”

“No? I made you laugh.” I pause, my expression turning serious for a moment. “When I met you, I thought that you looked like it had been a while since you really laughed.”

Sabrina looks at me mid-bite, setting the burger down as she slowly chews and swallows. “You’re right,” she says finally. “And it was nice for someone to make me laugh again. I’ve been—struggling since I got here. I don’t really fit in. I try, but it’s a struggle. And everyone sees it. You see it.” She lets out a slow breath. “I know it takes time. But these six weeks have felt like a long time.”

Her face softens, her expression turning a little sad, and once again I have the surprising urge to reach out and comfort her. I hesitate, but when that look in her eyes deepens, I reach over and touch the back of her hand.

“You said you were going to be here for the foreseeable future,” I tell her gently. “So just give it a little more. You’re clearly a fish out of water, Sabrina. Give yourself some time to get used to breathing differently.”

Her mouth quirks up on the side, and her fingers brush against my palm, just for a moment before she draws her hand away and reaches for another fry. “Thanks,” she says softly. “But don’t start calling me fish as a new nickname.”

I grin at that. “Alright, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, but this time, she doesn’t protest.

We finish our meal, and I pay the check. “I’ll drive you home,” I tell her, in a tone that lets her know I won’t accept any argument. “You’re not walking home alone in the dark, not even here. ”

“Isn’t a small town like this supposed to be safe?” Sabrina raises an eyebrow as I unlock the truck. “No one even locks their doors.”

“Sure. But it still has police for a reason. And I’d be bad at my job if I let a woman walk home alone at night.”

“Your job. Of course.” Sabrina’s mouth twitches. “Alright, Sheriff Brady. I’ll let you drive me home.”

God, she drives me insane. It’s the first thought that goes through my head as I close the door behind her and circle around to the driver’s side. But it feels good. Better than it should, considering the fact that I don’t want to let myself get too close to her.

Pleasure is one thing. Feelings are another. And feelings have no place in what I want from Sabrina Miller.