Page 16 of Welcome to Bone Town
“Nope.”
“When did you get it?”
“Around the time I designated.”
“Oh, that’s interesting.” He stops taking pictures of theartifact and leans his hip against the table. “Does your nickname have something to do with your scent?”
I smile, not giving anything away.
The look he’s giving me is so similar to how he studied that artifact that I almost want to laugh. It’s damn hot to see that focused, intense concentration directed at me.
“Are you gonna tell me your real name?” He inches closer, all casual like, but still the heat in his eyes is unmistakable.
I shake my head in answer to his question. At this point, I’ve gone by Bear for so long it feels like itismy real name. Besides, I like being something he’s interested in, and Ireallyhate my given name. “You can try to guess, though.”
He’ll never figure it out, but the thought of him thinking about me that much makes my gut all fluttery and shit.
He’s gazing up at me with a look that’s so full of attraction, it’s almost like I can read his thoughts. He’d make a horrible poker player. But something about that makes me smile. It’s refreshing. Most the guys I work with in security are so stoic, so good at keeping their emotions underwraps. It’s nice to be with someone who can’t hide how he’s feeling or what he wants.
I don’t think Archer could deceive someone if his life depended on it. He’s open in a way that makes me want to move closer, and also makes me worry about protecting him.
“Is your name Barrett?” he asks, making his first guess as he edges closer.
“Nope, not Barrett.”
“Damn.” He scrunches his nose in thought. “Barrett means bear so I thought I was onto something there.”
He tilts his chin up so that he can study my face. He’s about half a foot shorter than me, and something about that slight size difference makes my heart beat a little faster. Not that Archer is small by any means. I’ve noticed the muscular build he’s sporting under those tight t-shirts more than a few times. But he would fit perfectly tucked into my side, right under my arm. Something about the beta makes me want to protect him and ravish him in equal measure.
“Arthur?”
I shake my head.
“Will you at least tell me why you don’t like it?”
I chuckle at his attempt to get a clue. “It’s just not a good name.”
“What makes a name not good, in your opinion?”
Damn, he’s cute trying to puzzle this out. Impulsively, I grab his hips and position him so he’s standing right in front of me while I lean against the table. “A bad name is one that doesn’t fit.”
“And Bear fits?”
“What do you think?” I squeeze his hips with my large hands.
His throat bobs as he swallows. “It fits.” He wets his lips. “Does… my name fit?”
“Can’t tell.” I lean close to his ear. “I haven’t seen your arrow yet.”
The corny line makes him giggle—flat out giggle like a school kid! It’s a delicious soundthat makes me laugh, too, but when it dies away, all that’s left is the heaviness of our breaths, the heat of his body close to mine.
With my hands still on his waist, I skim my thumbs under his t-shirt. His gaze drops to my lips. So easy to read.
“I don’t kiss people when I’m on the job,” I say. “It’s unprofessional. Can’t have everyone here thinking I’m easy, now can I?”
“Okay.” His brows drop, and he tries to take a step back. I keep my grip on him, not wanting him to move away, wanting him closer, wanting to throw my own stupid fucking rule out the window.
“But damn, I want to kiss you right now.” My palms move up his sides, making his shirt bunch up enough to show a hint of skin. “Can I kiss you?”
