Page 101 of Ride or Die

She nudged her plate away and wrapped her fingers around the mug of coffee.

“You want to talk about it?”

She jerked her gaze up and found his eyes on her with that steady intensity. “What?”

“Whatever just made you lose your appetite?”

She tightened her grip. “There are quite a few things to choose from. Everything feels like a bit of a mess.”

“All solvable problems,” he said, snagging a piece of bacon off her plate. Cookie walked over and parked himself next to the table leg. He was too dignified to beg, but he was there. Just in case.

Saint’s knee grazed Riley’s under the table, and she stopped her impulse to press into him.

She was getting overly reliant.

“What are you most concerned about?”

“Well, to start, the violent stalker whose brother I work for, problem number one,” she said, counting on her fingers. “Two, said brother, and how I return to work without imploding from embarrassment. Three, Kristi’s obsession with fictional crime and that stupid spreadsheet.”

Saint took another sip of his coffee, his hand drifting to the dog, before he leaned back to look at her.

“Like I said, all solvable.” He seemed happy.

She scowled. “This isn’t funny.”

“Most of those problems have one solution.” He licked a crumb off his thumb. “Quit your job.”

“Wow. Why didn’t I think of that?” She shifted and tucked her ankle under her other leg. His gaze was bright.

She had thought about quitting. She planned to. But she had bills to pay just like everyone else and no cushion because she was sinking everything into her loans. She just needed a week or two to buy some time. She could take her vacation, all two weeks, and then figure something out. Or work two weeks and then take the vacation and get another month of pay.

She couldn’t really just quit.

“What’s your suggestion? Magically find another job that will pay off the rest of my student loans? Ask a genie for forty grand to go back to school so I can get a job that I might like? Let’s get a unicorn too.”

Saint shrugged and tugged her plate over onto his empty one after she pushed it towards him. “Money doesn’t need to be an issue.”

Riley barked a harsh laugh. Right. Because mechanics make millions. Saint ignored it and continued to eat.

His nonchalance was infuriating.

“If you had it your way, I’d, what? Hang out here all day, barefoot and pregnant, making sandwiches and holding flashlights while you fix bikes for criminals?”

Surprise flashed across Saint’s face, and his slow smile had a dark edge. Controlled, but possessive. Riley set her coffee down carefully.

She watched for any sign that she’d pushed him too far.

“That sounds like a good plan.”

Her stomach flipped over, and he resumed eating.

“Are you serious?”

“Sure, I’ve always wanted a family,” he said and gave her a slow grin. He looked delighted with the suggestion.

Her mouth opened and closed.

“What do you want to go back to school for?”