Chapter Six

DIESEL HAD SPENT so many years avoiding personal connections, he’d thought he was a master at it. But in one weekend he’d completely fucked it up. It was Monday evening, and he’d been giving himself hell all day. What had he been thinking, spending all that time with Tracey? The need to protect her, to know she was safe, had left him unable to walk away last night. If that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t stop thinking about how incredible she’d felt sleeping across his body, like she belonged there. He kept seeing her adorable smirk when she teased him and the way she’d looked at him when he’d talked about his mother. God, that had hit him like a truck, snapping something inside him that made him want to be even closer to her. He never made mistakes, especially not with women. But a thousand men couldn’t have held him back from that embrace. Now everything was messed up. She had walked in for her shift tonight with eyes full of hope, flashing that secret look women gave men when they had a special bond, and he’d fucking loved it so much he’d smiled like an idiot.

There was no denying the magnitude of his mistakes. He’d needed to take a giant step back, no matter how much it killed him. It was torture putting up walls between them again, but that space was vital to keep Tracey from getting hurt. Their connection was too potent for anything less, even if after two hours of avoiding eye contact, he was ready to ask Bullet to beat him to smithereens. Maybe that would make it easier.

Tracey was heading up to the bar, her almond eyes sliding nervously to him. He fucking hated that he made her feel anything other than safe and happy. Or hot and bothered. There was no denying the way her sinful innocence got to him when she got flustered. It was by far the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. But that enjoyment had to be something of the past. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he had no business taking her out last night. But he knew if he pulled her aside, none of the right words would come out. He wanted her too badly. If he opened his mouth, his next move would be sealing it over hers, getting himself into even deeper trouble.

Church was starting in twenty minutes, the perfect excuse to get the hell out of there early. He looked at Tracey nearing the bar and shot a glare at Izzy, who had been bitching at him since she’d come in for her shift. “You take her. I’m outta here.”

Izzy glowered. “What crawled up your ass and died tonight?”

It wasn’t his ass that had been affected. It was that fucking organ in his chest, which was more dangerous than a machine gun. He turned away, but not before he saw the shattered look in Tracey’s eyes. He’d gone up against some of the toughest guys around, and not one could take him to his knees the way that sexy little waif did.