DAISY POV
Diesel’s question hung in the air like smoke from his exhaust—thick, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.
“Are you joking right now?” His storm-gray eyes bored into mine, jaw locked so tight I could see the muscle jumping. “Do you love to piss me off?”
The bike was still idling on the side of the quiet street, the low rumble vibrating through the seat and into my bones. I sat behind him, arms still loosely around his waist, but the playful mood from the boutique had vanished. My heart hammered against my ribs.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze even though every instinct screamed at me to look away. “I wasn’t joking,” I said, keeping my voice steady while pointing at the modest building with the large glass windows and soft glowing sign that read Serenity Touch
