Текст книги "Infatuation"

Автор книги: River Savage

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Eleven

Mackenzie

“I think I’m done.” I wipe my hands on the back of my jeans and step back to look at the end result.

It might not be much, but it’s a start.

“You sure have accumulated a lot since you’ve been here.” Holly sits on my new bed while holding her son, X, in her arms.

“Thanks to you and the girls. I would still only have the clothes I arrived in if it weren’t for you all helping me out.” I move to the closet and slide the door closed.

I’ve just finished moving into Beau’s place. It only took one trip, but Holly and Kelly both decided they needed to be here and followed us back when they heard I was moving out.

“It’s no big deal. I had heaps of clothes from before X.” She shrugs, but I know she’s lying. Half the clothes given to me had new tags on them.

“Well, either way it means so much to me.”

Before Holly can answer, Mia, Kelly’s daughter comes running and falls down, tripping over the rug in the middle of my room.

I scoop her up instantly just as her tears come.

“It’s okay, sweet thing.” I console her, holding her close in my arms.

“You’re a natural.” Holly smirks, eyeing me carefully.

“Oh, I love kids. Some days I wish I would’ve had one, but then I realize I’m so glad I didn’t. Having a child in a marriage like mine would have been tragic.” Mia finally settles, her little five-year-old fingers playing with the gold necklace my nan gave me.

“Well, it’s not too late, Kenzie.”

“Please, I’m thirty-five. I missed the baby making boat.”

“Please, you’re like the average childbearing age these days, right? You still have time.”

“Well, I don’t see myself dating, getting married and having a kid all within the year.”

“I think you’re off to a good start, moving in with Beau.”

“What?” I nearly choke on the shock that she just called me out.

“Oh, come on, Mackenzie. You’re telling me this is just a housemate situation?” She lifts her right hand and bounces her pointer and middle finger on the word housemate.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I avoid her eyes. The last thing I need is her putting any ideas in my head.

Beau and I are friends and we don’t think of each other as anything more.

I almost believe it.

“If you say so.” She smirks, letting me off the hook.

“Kez.” Mia pulls back and points to something over my shoulder. I spin around and follow her direction. She can’t manage my full name, so she settles with Kez.

“What is it?” I ask, watching her point to a packet of Starburst. “Ahhh, candy. You have to ask your mom.” I place her on her feet and she runs out as fast as she came in to ask Kelly for permission.

“You hungry?” I turn back to Holly, ready for lunch.

“I have to get going. My mom and dad are coming over for dinner tonight and my house is a mess.” She stands, adjusting X as she goes.

“Well, thank you for helping me settle in.” I follow her out and down the hall back to the living area.

“I barely did much.” She winks, then bends to pick up X’s diaper bag off the sofa. “Kell, Beau, I’m out,” she calls to them in the kitchen.

Beau appears first, Kelly following close behind with Mia chomping into a cookie. Guess she forgot about the candy.

“Yeah I should head out too.” Kelly turns and walks back to the kitchen to fetch her belongings.

“I’ll help you put him in the car.” Beau steps forward and reaches for X.

“No, it’s fine, you stay.” She pulls back, only to offer him her cheek for a kiss.

“You still pissed I’m taking your girl?” Beau lifts his brow, not missing her attitude.

“Who’s gonna bake me all those goodies every week?” She winks at me but levels her stare back at Beau.

“She was gonna go and live in some crappy apartment complex Hunter lives in. It probably didn’t even have a functioning oven. I have one that works. She’s better off here.” He leans down and pecks her cheek as she rolls her eyes, realizing he has a point.

“Behave,” she warns, pulling back. She then turns and leaves.

“Okay, I’m off, too.” Kelly returns all packed up and ready to go. “If you need anything, Mackenzie, you have my numbers.” She kisses my cheek then lets me kiss Mia goodbye.

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” I tell her, watching her say goodbye to Beau.

“And don’t forget, Beau. We have the meeting with the lawyer on Wednesday, to go over everything.” Beau turns to me. A strange look falls over his face before answering.

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be there.”

Feeling like he doesn’t want me to know what their meeting is about, I leave them to talk in private and set about making some lunch. Not sure what Beau’s plans are for the rest of the day, I make us both a sandwich. His cabinets and fridge look miserable and I make a mental note to start a list. Now I’m living here at minimal rent, the least I can do is keep on top of these things. When I’ve managed to put together a decent lunch, Beau walks in.

“You hungry?” I ask, handing him his plate.

“Starved.” I follow him over to the table and take a seat opposite him. “Looks good, darlin’.” He digs in then looks up and gives me a wink, mouth full of food.

Friends.

I remind myself as I start eating.

It’s what we’ve been doing at the clubhouse anyway. There’s no reason for this to be awkward. I continue to have my conversation in my head.

It isn’t until I’ve finished eating, cleaned up lunch and found my way back to my room, I realize we didn’t say another word to each other.

Oh, God, it’s already awkward.

“Mackenzie! Have you seen my coffee mug?” Beau shouts down the hall a few days later. I just stepped out of the shower and was about to dry my hair when I hear him banging around.

“In the cabinet,” I shout back as I run my comb through my hair.

“It’s not!”

I roll my eyes, ignoring his annoyance and walk out to the kitchen. He’s searching in the wrong cabinet with his bare back to me when I walk in.

“It is. I put it in there last night,” I tell him, reaching up and opening the door to show him the mugs.

“That’s not where the mugs belong.” His head spins toward me, brows dipped low.

“Ahh, yeah, they do. It’s where I found them.” I pull down his mug and hand it to him. “It’s also the cabinet above the coffee maker. So makes sense.” I drop my hand when our fingers graze sending an electric current all the way up my arm.

“I don’t know why you think it belongs there, but it doesn’t. It belongs here.” He opens the cabinet under the microwave to reveal the plastic containers. “The fuck?” He looks up. “Did you tidy up in here?” I shrug, not prepared to answer.

I might have tidied a little.

I didn’t however move his mug. His mug has been in the sink every day I have been here, and when I did sort out the kitchen yesterday, the rest of the mugs were in the cabinet above the coffee maker.

“You don’t need to clean and organize shit here, Kenz. It’s not required and I sure as shit don’t like not being able to find my mug.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit. I’m used to having everything perfect,” I admit, not wanting to get into it with him over the mug. The truth is, it’s the least I can do after everything Beau has done for me.

“Well, break those habits, darlin’. You don’t have to clean up after me. I can look after my own shit.”

“It’s really no problem, Beau. I have free time.”

“Not arguing with you on this.” He steps around me to fill his mug, ultimately ending the conversation.

“Are you always like this in the morning?” I ask, not really sure what the big deal is. His kitchen is clean. What’s the issue? Chad always expected a spotless kitchen and if it wasn’t, he sure would let me know about it.

“Only when I haven’t had coffee in my favorite mug.” He takes a sip from his basic black coffee mug and moans briefly.

Jesus.

“Are you feeling better now?” I ask after few minutes of letting him get acquainted with his coffee.

“Getting there,” he mumbles taking another sip.

“Good, you can thank me later for tidying up your kitchen.” I nod then make my way back to the bathroom, hearing his grumbling about how I’m gonna be the death of him.

“Oh, and if you think the kitchen is too organized, I’m just going to go ahead and apologize in advance for the junk room,” I shout my reply and then quickly flick my dryer on, blasting out whatever he has to say.

He can’t be angry. I’m only helping him out in the long run.

Right? Right.

Twelve

Beau

“You have her at your place? What the fuck are you thinking, Beau?” Tiny asks the following week at Fireside Bar. He called a meet after finding out we had moved Mackenzie in with me.

Tiny acquired his name ‘cause of his size. The guy stands at six-foot-nine. A real big fucker. He’s been a friend of the club dating back to when my dad was VP. He’s had his hands in a lot of things. Ex– military, former cop, he’s also the guy who started this whole gig with helping abused women. I came on board two years ago knowing it was something I wanted to do to honor Missy. At first it was pick-ups, drop-offs and a few recoveries, like Mackenzie’s situation, but then it turned into something bigger. Something I wanted to fully commit myself to.

“Yeah, well it was either with me or have her living in some shitty apartment in a fucked-up neighborhood where he could easily manipulate his way in.”

“What’s to say he’s not gonna come knocking on your door, boy? This is fuckin’ wrong and you know it.” He shakes his head, and I have to give it to him, he’s not as pissed as I thought he would be.

Ever since Mackenzie has been back, Tiny’s wanted to move her into one of his safe houses to ensure she was protected. But I would have no part in his plan. She came to me for help. I wasn’t going to palm her off.

“He comes to my house, I’ll have my Beretta ‘92 waiting for him.” Tiny doesn’t reply but I can see his mind ticking over what I just said. “If you’re so worried, you put a man on her. Keep her in your sights.” I finish my beer and keep an eye on the clock above the bar.

“You don’t have men on her? What the fuck, Beau? You’re meant to be fucking helping.”

“You think I’m stupid? Of course I have eyes on her, asshole. But if you want your own set of eyes on her, then fine, I’ll give you that, but she’s not leaving my place to be holed up in some fucking cheap unit where he can find her again.” I give him a long look, telling him I’m still pissed she was found in the first place.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have no fucking idea how he found her. For all we know, it was the missing friend. She could have tipped him off.”

“It wasn’t her. She didn’t even know she was in Ohio. The last time she spoke to her she was in Phoenix.”

“Well, he obviously had someone working on it. I don’t know.” I’m pissed at his blasé reply.

“Well, maybe your fail safe fucking system isn’t working well,” I call him out.

“You have your head messed up on this one, brother.” He ignores my look and gives me his opinion.

“Only thing messed up here is that this fucker hasn’t been found yet. Until he is, she’s staying with me. Simple.” I drop a twenty on the table to cover my two beers and stand.

“And when you have another call out? You’re just gonna leave her as an open target?” He drops his own twenty on the table and stands with me. “You know I’m about done with this shit. I’m ready to hand it all over. I need to know you’re serious about coming on board.” I know he’s worried about this, but he also knows my reasons why I do this. He loved Missy like his own daughter. But he has nothing to worry about. Yeah, I might want in Mackenzie’s pants. But she’s the only one. I’m not some fucking sick fuck who wants to fix every broken woman I help.

“I told you, I have eyes on her. My commitment is still the same, Tiny. Don’t fucking make it a problem. Now, I gotta head out. You have anything for me to work with?” We’re coming up to two months since Mackenzie has been back and not one fucker in this town nor a marker out of town has seen Chad fucking Morre.

“It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the earth. Same with the friend. Friends and family say she moved away, left no forwarding address.”

“How the fuck is that possible?” I’m fucking pissed. I thought for sure bringing in some markers would have pulled something up. He’s either killed her, or she went deep into hiding.

“Your guess is as good as mine. We’ll keep looking but in the meantime, we need to sit down and talk about how we’re gonna integrate the shelter with the runs.” I nod because I know he’s right. We have a lot of work to do for this project to work.

“Let me know the place and time and I’ll be there.” He pulls me in for one of those slap-on-the-back man hugs. I return the sentiment.

“You sort this out, Beau, whatever is going on. She’s in your home. You make sure you keep her safe.”

“On it, old man.”

We don’t say anything else, both of us leaving at the same time. I make my way over to my bike and send a text to Hunter to check in.

Me: Everything all good?

I mount my ride and wait for a reply while thinking about Tiny’s warning. Having her in my space is opening us up for more drama, but if I didn’t offer her my house, I’d be a fucking mess.

After a few minutes, my phone beeps.

Hunter: All good. Quiet.

I pocket my phone, kick my stand up and reach for my helmet. Before I can put it on, the cool metal of a gun meets my temple.

“You better hope you’re brave enough to pull the trigger, motherfucker.” I keep my eyes straight ahead trying to assess my options.

“Brave bastard, aren’t ya? Don’t think I won’t use it.” The voice isn’t familiar to me, so I rule out Chad and try to go through the list of who I’ve pissed off the last few months. It’s a long list.

“What the fuck do you want?” I ask, kicking the stand of my bike down. If this asshole hurts my bike, I won’t be responsible for what I do.

“Where the fuck is she?” He presses the gun harder against my temple.

“Who?” My back straightens. Maybe this is about Kenzie.

“Sandra and my kid. I know you fucking took them, with this underground shit gig you have going on with Tiny.”

Fuck.

Sandra was the woman I took from one of the Warriors a few months back, her and her baby daughter. I didn’t plan on taking her and she definitely didn’t come to me looking for a way out. I found her crying at the front of the local store one morning. Took one look at her and knew I couldn’t walk away. At the time, I didn’t know she belonged to a Warrior, not that it would have changed anything. I offered her an out and she took it.

“I don’t know where your information is coming from, asshole. But I don’t know anyone named Sandra. Now either pull the fucking trigger or remove it from my head before I remove your arm from your body for you.” I don’t have a death wish, far from it. But this asshole is desperate to find his family. He’s not going to risk shooting me Unluckily for him though ‘cause I’m gonna make him fucking pay for even trying.

His laughter rings loud in the parking lot and I take my chance to overpower him. He doesn’t see it coming. My elbow connects to his jaw, knocking him back. Twisting my body, I reach for his gun. He steadies himself and hits back. The butt of his gun hits just above my eye. Warmth pours from my brow and I know he just split it open. Fucker.

His arm pulls back, ready to bring his fist back down on my face, but I’m faster this time. My fingers twist his wrist back, forcing him to drop the gun. He shouts in pain as I manage to slide off my bike. He comes at me again, his fist rearing back, but before he can connect I force my head forward, connecting with his nose. He falls down fast, blood flowing from his nose. The gun is out of sight, and I don’t worry about it now. I kick at his chest, forcing him back to the asphalt before my boot finds his throat and I push down. Hard.

“I just want to find my family.” His words are strangled by the pressure of my boot and normally I’d take it easy on a desperate man, doing desperate things, but the fucker just had his gun to my head and split my eyebrow open. I’m not feeling so forgiving today.

“The family you beat on?” I sneer down at him.

“So you do know where she is?”

“I fucking took her away from you, asshole. And I’m not fucking telling you where she is.” I dig a little deeper with my boot. His back arches in pain, but it doesn’t stop me. This piece of shit thought he was a man by putting his hands on his woman. He’s not a man. He’s pathetic.

“Please.” He gasps, his fingers scratching at my legs.

I step back, giving him a chance to fill his lungs. He spurts and coughs, rolling to his side.

“You wanna know where she is?” I ask, eyeing the gun. It’s fallen close to my bike out of view. I pick it up and point it at him.

“You know I do. You have no fucking clue who you’re messing with. The truce will be done with when my Prez finds out what you did.”

I laugh. “You think I give a fuck about the truce? I don’t. Means nothing to me, or our club,” I lie, knowing how far we’ve come with the Warriors. Blood has been shed, and the last thing we need is to have them coming into our territory.

“Tell me where she is and I won’t go to my Prez,” he tries to threaten me.

“You don’t know who you’re playing with. You think your Prez is gonna start a war for you.” I release the safety on his gun and watch panic flash across his face.

“Put the gun down, Beau.” I hear movement to my left, but I keep the gun trained on the fucker on the ground.

“Ain’t gonna put it down.” I don’t bother looking around. I know I have one guy to my left, and another to my right.

“Just fucking shoot him.” The weasel on the ground shouts to his friends, but no one reacts.

“What the fuck you doing, Baz? Told you to cool off with this Sandra shit,” another voice asks, this time from my right.

“I don’t want any fucking trouble. Your boy, Baz, here had his gun to my head. Misunderstanding. He has the wrong man.”

The air is quiet as everyone waits for someone to make the next move.

“I will find her.” Baz comes to his feet, but doesn’t step closer.

No fucking chance in hell he’s finding her.

“I wish you luck, but I don’t know who you’re looking for.” I lower the gun and place it in the waistband of my jeans.

“That’s my gun, asshole.”

“And now it’s mine. Next time you put a gun to a man’s head, make sure you pull the trigger.” I mount my ride, confident neither Baz nor the two guys will push the matter. There’s no proof. I made sure of it. And they’d be stupid to push it either way, especially on our turf.

They all stay back as I put my helmet on. My eye is already swelling and my head is pounding. Baz begins to say something, but I start my bike and let the rumble wash away his voice.

I’m sure something will come out of tonight. I just fucked up a Warrior and took his gun. But I don’t give a shit. He’s on our territory. He’s lucky I didn’t use his gun on him.

I give one more look back at Baz and take off. I take the long route home, taking extra back streets to weed out any tail I might have. I don’t think I do, but I won’t take any chances with Mackenzie now living with me.

After making sure I’m clear, I pull into my driveway and shut down my bike.

The house is lit up like a Christmas tree, and I shake my head.

Damn woman, I don’t know why she has to have every light on in the house.

Before I go in to see her, I walk across the street to the truck Hunter sits in. He lowers the window when I’m close enough.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He notices my eye right away.

“You should see the other guy. Everything okay here?” I ignore his question and ask the important shit.

“Yeah, nothing happening.”

“Good. You can head out now. I’m in for the rest of the night.” I tap the top of his truck and turn to walk away.

“Oh, ya might wanna tell your woman, maybe not come out on the porch wearing what she’s wearing tonight.” I turn and watch him put his hands up in surrender, just like Baz did earlier. “Just saying, bro. Had both neighbors out earlier practically eye fucking her.” He starts his truck and peels down the street before I can tell him to fuck off.

Great. More shit to deal with tonight.

Thirteen

Mackenzie

I hear the rumble of his bike as he pulls into the drive and I race to the sofa, quickly opening my book and finding the page I was on, not wanting to look like I’ve been waiting for him.

Even if I have been.

It’s been just over a week since I moved in. A week of living in each other’s space. Of pure hell. Pure sex-god, hot-body, sexy-as-sin, beard-wearing, and fantastic hair hell.

The man is under my skin and living in close proximity is not helping at all.

Apparently, I didn’t think this through when I agreed to live here. Yeah, I admit there was something between Beau and I. Something pulling me to him. I don’t deny it. The kiss alone back at the clubhouse proved it, but I didn’t realize how intense those feelings would grow since living in his space.

After the first day of awkwardness, things just seemed to fit into place, both of us settling back into our relaxed way. We’ve always been able to talk comfortably with each other, even with the slight tension to begin with, and it is no different here than at the clubhouse.

Until it became complicated with what I’ve been calling the first incident.

It happened on day four. I had left my body wash on my bed before my morning shower. I didn’t realize until I had stepped under the water. I knew going by the first few mornings Beau didn’t wake until I had finished in the shower, so I decided to risk a mad dash back to my room in a towel. I made it safely, undetected. His door still firmly closed.

That wasn’t the problem. It was what I heard when I stepped into my room.

Moaning. A lot of freaking moaning. And my name. Beau moaning my name.

I nearly came apart right then and there. He was pleasuring himself, and calling out my name. At first I didn’t know how to respond. I knew we both were hiding our real feelings, but I never imagined it would come to this. It was almost like we were both punishing ourselves for no reason at all. Not sure how I felt about it, I grabbed my wash and raced back to the shower as fast as I could. I tried to push the image out of my head. It didn’t help. It’s all I could picture for the next two days.

Until the second incident played out on day six.

I was watching a movie on the sofa late one afternoon. Beau had been moving around the house for most of the day doing his thing and leaving me alone, until he came and joined me. I was lying on my side, taking up all the space. I moved to sit up and make some room for him, but he beat me to it and lifted my legs, planted his ass at the end then rested my feet in his lap.

“Stay,” is all he said when I tried to lift my legs. How was I going to argue with him? I couldn’t, so I gave up and forced myself to focus my attention back on the movie while he held my ankle in his hand and used his thumb to circle a soft pattern into my skin. At first I didn’t think anything of it. It felt nice and maybe I just needed nice for once. But then a hot steamy scene came on and the room reached sky-high tension. I felt it. He felt it. My vagina felt it. I’m sure Barry the old man next door I met two days ago felt it. I tried not to react. My eyes stayed firmly planted on the TV and I willed myself not to read into it.

But I couldn’t help it. It was like my foot didn’t want to listen to my brain and instead of keeping still it started searching. Searching for what, I don’t freaking know. He was getting hard. My foot apparently wanted more.

His thumb stopped stroking me and we both kind of paused. Then next thing I knew he was out of the chair, and heading to bed before dinner. I didn’t see him again until the next morning for breakfast.

I don’t know what’s worse. The jerking off or the erection. But both have messed with me.

Plus on top of those two major mishaps, I have taken to dreaming about him. Every night I find his beard between my legs. His tongue, which I have no idea how talented it really is, brings me to orgasm just as I wake.

It’s torture.

Pure torture.

I don’t know how to stop it or if I want it to.

“Mackenzie!” Beau’s voice fills the room cutting through my daydreaming.

“What are you yelling for?” I drop my book and stand when I notice his face. All thoughts of playing it cool fade away and I gasp. “Oh, God what happened to you?” I step forward, needing a better look. Blood has dried from his brow down his face and all through his beard.

“Nothing. What are you wearing?” He runs his eyes over my nightgown before coming back up to my face.

“Errr, my nightgown?” His lip curls at my reply and I take a step back.

Ummm, what the hell?

“Mackenzie, you can’t be wearing this shit here. Not out on the porch. Half the fucking street probably jerked off to the sight of you tonight.” I ignore the fact he just said men are masturbating over me and zero in on him using my full name.

“What’s going on, Beau?”

“You’ve got no fucking clothes on, darlin’.” I look down at the black nightgown I’m wearing. The man’s crazy. It’s not like it’s revealing. The length hits just below my knee. The neckline is a little low, but it’s not like I have a large rack to put on display. In the grand scheme of things, it’s barely risqué.

“This?” I look back up, waiting for him to tell me he’s joking around.

“Yes, that. You can’t wear it.” He drops his helmet to the table and stalks into the kitchen. Ignoring his ridiculous comment and pissed-off mood, I follow him into the kitchen.

“What happened to your face?” I walk to the cabinet where the first-aid kit lives.

“Had a disagreement,” he answers, searching the fridge for food.

“I cooked dinner.” I wait for him to turn and face me. “I’ll fix it for you if you let me look at your eye.”

“What did you cook?”

Damn, he’s stubborn.

“Chicken pot pie.” He huffs then moves to the table with a beer in his hand. My pie’s clearly good enough to have him caving. I follow him over and open up the kit.

“Some disagreement then?” I lean down to have a closer look. He moans almost like he’s in pain and I step back.

“What? I didn’t even touch you.” He doesn’t say anything; instead, he takes off his cut and pulls his black shirt over his head.

“Put it on.” He offers it to me.

“You can’t be serious?” I scoff, caught between the thunderous glare he’s giving me and checking out his naked chest.

Seriously, this man.

“Darlin’, I’m fucking wired right now. Your tits are in my face. And this fucking sexy getup leaves nothing to the imagination. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together.”

“Beau?” I take another step back at his tone. I’m not sure if I’m turned on or scared. He’s never been this intense before and I take a minute to calm my breathing.

He won’t hurt me. I know this.

“Don’t even go there right now, Mackenzie. You have nothing to be scared of.” He notices my reaction and drops some of his tension. “Just put the shirt on, darlin’.” I know he’s right. I have nothing to be scared of with Beau, and I feel a little foolish for reacting. With quick fingers, I manage to pull it over my head.

“Fuck, it’s almost worse,” he mumbles, and if I weren’t freaking out, I would laugh at his displeasure.

“Should I leave?”

“Fuck no. Just let me stew for a while.” He draws a deep breath in and then slowly lets it out.

“Feeling better?” I ask when a few minutes of awkward silence pass.

“Getting there.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you going to let me clean you up?” I fold my arms in front of me. He follows my movements and shakes his head before lifting his mouth in a sexy smirk.

“Have at it.” He rests further back in his chair and allows me to proceed.

I step forward, open an antiseptic swab and begin removing all the dried blood first. I don’t know what the hell happened to stir this kind of reaction in him tonight. Beau’s never spoken like this to me before. Yeah, he has his moments of shortness and bossy ways, but this, this was something else. And I’m not sure if it really has anything to do with the nightgown.

“This part might sting.” I grab a clean swab and lean back over him. His eyes stay closed as I make short work of cleaning up the cut.

“It’s not too deep. I’ll just put a bandage on it to keep it closed.” I reach back to the first-aid box and search for some sterile strips. “So what happened tonight?” I ask when I find them.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” His eyes are still closed, his jaw tense. Being this close with free run to stare at him is dangerous.

What would he do if I pressed my lips to his?

“Well, I will if it means you’re gonna come home and be an ass, I might worry.” His right eye opens at my sass and I shrug.

What does he expect? He pulls it out of me.

“Club business, darlin’. Not gonna talk about it with you.” He shuts down my questions.

Club business. Don’t ask.

“Fair enough.” I let it go, and place the first strip over the cut. He doesn’t flinch or show any sign of hurting. I use a second strip to make sure it’s secure, this time pushing a little harder. Again he doesn’t react and it doesn’t surprise me. The man is a pro at keeping his emotions in check.

“Done,” I announce then step back and start clearing the wrappers from the strips and swabs.

“Thanks, darlin’.” He opens his eyes, the fire slowly fading behind them.

God, he’s handsome. The dark eyes, tanned skin. Beard. Ugh, the beard.

“No problem.” I clear my throat and step over to the trash can. He doesn’t say anything else and I wonder if I should push this. “Now that you’re cleaned up, let’s discuss the nightgown.” I take a seat next to him. My mind and body are at war with each other. Some messed-up part of me wants to please him and not wear it just to make him happy. But at the same time, he doesn’t get to tell me what to do.

“You can’t wear shit like this if you want to live here.”

“You're serious? What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything.” He keeps his eyes on his beer and I don't know if I want to slap him or kiss his face. Even just sitting there, in his pissy mood, he affects me. I regard him for a minute, willing his eyes up, but he doesn’t react.

“Okay, I’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow.” I stand and begin to walk away. I have no idea where this is all coming from. Yeah, sometimes it can be tense between us but this is a whole new level for us. One I’m not okay with.