Free My Soul To Keep (Soul Series Book 1) by Kennedy Ryan Page A

eyes.
    “I’m so sorry.” I plop a glass of water with lemon down in front of him, mortified when it splashes onto his hands. “Oh gosh. I’m so sorry.”
    I can’t stop apologizing. Mainly because I can’t stop screwing up.
    “Kai.” He lays one strong hand over my trembling fingers mopping up the water. “It’s fine.”
    I look at him, something I realize I haven’t allowed myself to do very much of since I realized he wasn’t a senior citizen. The intensity of his grey eyes provokes a hot spring in my belly. A rush of fiery liquid that emanates to my fingers, to my toes, to my core.
    I jerk my hand back and reach for the order pad.
    “What’ll it be then?”
    Even with my eyes fixed on the pad and pen poised to take his order, I feel the heat of his stare still trained on me. After a silence that extends a moment too far, he answers.
    “Turkey burger and fries.”
    I chew at my bottom lip and glance in the direction of the kitchen. Undecided and then decided.
    I lean into his space, close enough to smell him, clean and masculine.
    “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” I whisper, stealing a surreptitious whiff of him. “Get the bison. The turkey burger’s always dry. The bison is still lean and better for you, but the cook keeps it juicy.”
    I step back and notice his lips twitching.
    “Okay, bison burger it is.”
    “And we actually have sweet potato fries. Better for you than the regular ones.”
    “Don’t push it.” His eyes crinkle with his wide smile and good humor. “I’ll take my chances with regular fries.”
    “Your funeral.” My face is serious, but my tone lightens.
    “What time is your shift over?” Rhyson’s question snatches me out of the ease I’d fooled myself into.
    “Um . . .” I glance at the clock, which has gone from interminable to warp speed since Rhyson arrived in disguise. “Like in thirty minutes.”
    “Can I take you home?”
    “Rhyson, I—”
    “For the love of God, would you stop calling me that?” He looks over at the table of giggling girls taking selfies. “Or that pack of girls will be over here in about five seconds asking me to sign tits and take pictures.”
    He looks so disgruntled. It’s the closest he’s actually looked to a grumpy old man since he arrived, so I can’t help but grin.
    “Sorry, sir. I keep forgetting. I’m not used to these covert operations. Let me go put in your order.”
    I turn to leave, but he catches my wrist in a firm but gentle grip.
    “You didn’t answer my question.” He raises the brows I notice he didn’t bother to salt and pepper. “Can I take you home?”
    My eyes fall to his fingers, strong and capable of magic, wrapped around my wrist. Working on my senses like I’m some simple arrangement he could play with his eyes closed. Only his eyes are wide open, watching me with unerring focus. I hope he doesn’t see me swallowing, because it’s perilously close to a gulp. I hope he can’t hear the party my heart is throwing in my chest. I hope the blood in my wrist isn’t Morse coding my frantic pulse to his fingers.
    I hope I know what I’m getting into.
    “Yeah, you can take me home.”

THIS MOUSTACHE ITCHES.
    I focus on the sticky caterpillar on my lip so that damned scent of Kai’s doesn’t take me under. What is that? I can’t just spend the fifteen-minute drive to her apartment sniffing the air. Like she doesn’t think I’m weird enough showing up at her job wearing one of my disguises.
    “So I guess you do have at least one friend besides Grady and San?” I peel the moustache off and toss it in the backseat.
    “Who?” Kai turns a little to face me, eyebrows bunched.
    “What was her name? Misty? The waitress who asked if you were really going home with the old guy?”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    Kai’s husky laugh permeates the interior of my car. I want to make her laugh my ring tone. Who am I kidding? Friends?
    “So . . . friends?” She tosses the question out clairvoyantly, her voice