Page 15 of Cuckoo
“Why?”
He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb over my jaw. “Because.”
“That’s not an answer. It’s too vague and noncommittal.”
His lips twitched. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
“You’re not going to say more, are you?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
I pouted, sticking out my lower lip because I felt ridiculous, left in the dark, and like a child being denied dessert or something sparkly and pretty. He dangled it like a scrumptious morsel and denied me the pleasure of experiencing it. “You’re mean.”
A dark chuckle escaped as he held my chin, refusing to let me turn away. “No. I’m delaying my response for a time when it will make better sense.”
I snorted. “Why? Are you stalking me or something?”
His grin widened.
Oh. My. God. He was! “Rain!”
“As much as I love to hear you say my name, I don’t go by Rain anymore.” He tapped a spot of the leather vest on his chest. “See? My road name is Cuckoo.”
Cuckoo. Huh. It worked for him.
“So, I can’t call you Rain?”
“Well, that’s just for when we’re alone.”
“Like now,” I pointed out.
Those gray eyes of his nearly glistened with silver. “Yeah, angel, we are.”
Outside, I heard a crow cawing. It grew louder, hopping outside the kitchen window. How odd. I didn’t notice many crows before today.
“Are you a biker or something?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m a member of the Devil’s Murder MC.”
That sounded ominous. And dangerous. “Oh.”
“Don’t worry. You’ve got my protection. Always. Me and my club.”
Wait. I frowned. “Why do I need protection?”
He shrugged. “You don’t. Right?”
No, of course not. “Why would I?”
“Exactly. Why would you need it, angel?” He hung on my answer, wondering if I was hiding something.
“I’m not hiding anything, Cuckoo.”
His lips thinned, losing the playful smile. “I believe you, Katrina.”
It didn’t look like it. “I’m a librarian, Rain, err Cuckoo. I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. I always obey the law.”
He released my chin and sat back, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, I thought so.”
