Bear Trap (Rawlins Heretics MC Book 3) by Bijou Hunter

Author:Bijou Hunter [Hunter, Bijou]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bikers, MC Romance, Motorcycle Club
Publisher: Bijou Hunter
Published: 2018-03-06T16:00:00+00:00

➸ Clove ☆

Heat hits me as soon as I open the door to my townhouse. Sighing with relief, I hurry inside and drop my bag next to the couch. Behind me, Glitch enters in the nearly soundless way he manages despite his size. I hear him shut and lock the door. My goal is to get a pot of coffee perking before I take a hot shower and slip into comfy pajamas.

“Do you still think you’ll stay the night?” I ask again as if his “yes” earlier hadn’t been clear enough.

“See no reason not to.”

I don’t know if Glitch is sick of my asking, or he’s having second thoughts, but his tone sends a sense of unease deep in my chest. After the coffee is on, I turn to him and frown.

“Where’s your cat?” he asks from the middle of the living room.

I take in the sight of him surrounded by all my desperate attempts to find the real me. The Filipino décor and Mexican art never helped me get in touch with the person I thought I should be. I like them, but they’re just things, and my strength always comes from the connections I had with people like the crew and now Glitch.

“Yarrow is babysitting him,” I finally say.

“What did you ever name him?”

“I didn’t. I just call him ‘cat’ or ‘kitty.’ He comes, or he doesn’t.”

“You ought to name him,” Glitch says and crosses his muscular arms.

I don’t know if his stance is supposed to intimidate me, but it does a little after last night when he made me his sex slave. “Why?” I ask after a long moment of silence.

“An animal needs a name.”

“Do cows have names? How about chickens?”

“I don’t know. You ought to ask Camo,” he says and relaxes his arms. “His family raises chickens and a few other farm animals. If I was a betting man, I’d say they name their animals. Camo’s mom is too much of a hippie not to. Hell, she probably names the fucking trees too.”

“You can name the cat.”

Glitch and I stand in our spots—him in the living room, me in the kitchen—and stare at one another. Deep shit changed between us in Little Memphis. I don’t think either of us is certain what to do with the new situation. I ache to cling to him while he seems ready to run for the door. Was chasing me only fun when he couldn’t catch his prize?

“So will you name him?” I ask when he watches me silently.

Glitch tilts his head, sizing me up with his smoky eyes, and finally smiles. “We’ll call him Gizmo like from “Gremlins.” That was my favorite movie growing up.”

“Gizmo is a good name.”

His smile grows, and I think he wants to laugh at me. “It’s just a name, Clove.”

“Do you really want to spend the night here?”

“I’ll spend every night here if you let me.”

I smile at the rigid certainty of his answer. “If you did move in here, what would you do with your little house?”

“Rent it out probably.

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