Marked Clan #2 - Red Read Online Free PDF

new people. Work keeps me pretty busy.”
    I wanted to drag him back to my car and rip off his pants. Was I really this deprived or did Connor have surprisingly awesome taste in men? That last thought had some interesting repercussions, but I decided to go with the first. Easy with the libido, PJ. You’ll scare him off.
    “No mind at all. I’ve had a rough time lately myself. Connor just wants me to blow you off. Blow it off—blow off some steam!”
    Fuck.
    Justin, to his credit, didn’t respond at all to my gaffe and continued to lead me toward the door. Once we were there, he held it open. Did guys like this still exist? Something must be wrong with him. Clubfoot? No. Facial tics? None so far. Axe murderer. That had to be it. Sociopaths can be deceptively charming right up till they lead you to their kill room with the speculum and the band saw and the plastic on the floor.
    Jesus, PJ, with an imagination like that it’s no wonder you can’t keep a steady boyfriend.
    “After you,” he said. I realized I’d been staring off into space through that whole thought process. I coughed a little bit and went inside. The hostess gave Justin a pager and we found an empty stretch of bench to wait.
    “So how do you know my uncle?” I asked. “You don’t look like the usual type we get at the shop.”
    He shook his head. “No, I’m not much for needles. I don’t have a problem with tattoos, I mean, just don’t like getting poked.”
    That makes one of us.
    “I patched him up one night after a fight. He didn’t say what happened, but it was kind of a nasty row. I had to give him stitches over his eye.”
    A line of waiters and waitresses came out of the kitchen carrying a cannoli with candles sticking out. They sang a horribly off-key rendition of happy birthday, and the general noise level of the restaurant rose to compensate.
    “Oh, I remember that,” I spoke a little louder. “Older guy came in drunk at midnight. Wanted a skull and crossbones on his thigh. Connor wouldn’t work on him, and the guy just decked him. Doing stuff for drunks is bad for business. Too many of them come back when they’re sober and want their money back. So you’re an EMT then?”
    “Doctor, actually. I’m doing my residency right now in the medical center.”
    “So can I fuck your brains out now, or do we still have to eat dinner?” The noise level in the restaurant dropped back to normal just as I said it. Every pair of eyes in a ten-foot radius zeroed in on me. I’m pretty sure my face matched my hair right about then. Justin laughed.
    “That’s entirely up to you, but I know I like to go at it on a full stomach.”
    A couple of people snickered, and the restaurant resumed its business. I covered my face with my hands. “Yeah, did Connor mention I have the tact of a drunk even when I’m sober?”
    My date didn’t have to answer. His smile said it all. I wasn’t usually this…girly around men. What was it about this guy that took all the wind out of my sails? The pager buzzed, and a hostess showed us to our table. It was dark. Pretty much the only light came from a pair of tiny tea candles floating in a frosted vase of water. Justin waited for me to sit down, but didn’t offer to push in my chair. I was a little relieved at that. Chivalry was one thing—treating me like a moron was another.
    You aren’t really wowing him with your intellect so far.
    “Shut up,” I said.
    Justin looked at me over his menu. “Did you say something?”
    “No, no. What’s good here?”
    He shrugged and folded his menu in front of him. “I usually just go with my standards. Chicken Parmesan is pretty good. Nice and crispy on the edges. Veal piccata is good too, if you don’t mind capers.”
    “How is it you’re a doctor but you don’t like needles?” I asked.
    “Doesn’t bother me to work on other people. I just don’t like to get stuck myself. It’s probably psychological. My mom is diabetic. I grew up watching her poke