"Damn, angel, we're only going to lunch."
"Is it too much?"
"Oh, fuck, no. You look fucking gorgeous."
"Thank you," I whisper gratefully while feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.
Bullet rubs a thumb along my knuckles, lifting my hand to kiss my fingers. He takes my 'Bee Yourself' tote bag off my shoulder as he laces our fingers together.
"What do you have in here?"
"Just all the basics I need."
He peers inside of it, giving me a teasing glance when he pulls out three books.
"Just the basics? Really, angel?"
"What? I wasn't lying. Those are the most needed objects in that entire bag."
"You aren't going to be able to read three in one hour."
"You always have to have two or three backups. Should I grab another one in case? Now you're making me nervous."
He doesn't even try to hide his grin.
"I don't know, but you can if that would make you feel better."
I send him a shy smile before strutting back into my room to grab another book. I mean, because what if we decide to go on a picnic after his therapy session, and we have nothing to do? At least, I have my books. Or his old beat-up truck stops working, and we have to wait on the side of the road before we're able to go anywhere. I would be entertained.
Bullet takes the novel from my hand and slips it into the tote bag along with my three other books, my wallet, keys, sunscreen, phone charger, headphones, snacks, pens, paper, and bandaids. What? You can never be overprepared.
He fiddles with the ponytail holder on my wrist as we walk to his truck. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he drives to the restaurant.
He plays with his napkin while we eat and talk about random things. Including what happened this last season of Virgin River and the release of Jon Pardi's new album.
Eventually, tired of his constant twitching, fiddling, and tapping, I reach out and grasp his hand.
"Is everything okay?"
"You know how I said I was a little nervous about my therapy appointment earlier?"
"I remember."
"Well, I kinda lied. I'm a lot nervous. Like a lot a lot. I don't even fucking know why, it's just, that I've never talked about all the deep and heavy things in my life before."
"It's not like you have to divulge every little secret today."
He whips his head to look at me, moving so fast he almost knocks over his water.
"What?" Bullet says breathlessly.
"Bullet, did you think that you would have to tell your therapist all the trauma in your life in one hour?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, no. You don't have to do it today, my sweet."
Where the frick did 'my sweet' come from?
It makes him pause for a moment, but he doesn't comment, which I greatly appreciate.
"But then what do I say?"
"Well, whatever you want, but don't feel like you have to tell them everything. That would be overwhelming."
"Yeah, it is."
YOU ARE READING
Bullet: Devil's Rose MC #5
RomancePiper Bardot was a twenty-eight-year-old overachieving scholar without direction until she found the Devil's Rose MC. And then she was a prospect. However, when she has to leave for three months, she reverts to the lost girl she once was. Upon her r...
