Chapter 20
Sloane
When Cruz arrives with a big bag of tacos, I can’t help but clap like a little kid. He texted me that he was leaving the taco shop ten minutes ago, and I have our matcha lattes hot and waiting for us.
I let him in, then lock the door behind him.
Big bursting full paper bag with a happy dancing set of tacos on it or not, I do the most important thing. I wrap my arms around him as far as they’ll go and I hug him, bag and all. Today was already a good day, but now that Cruz is here, it’s the best day.
“Dinner out twice in one week. I’m getting spoiled.”
He kisses me, showing me what spoiled truly looks like.
And feels like. It’s exquisite. Mind blowing.
It gets my heart racing and my blood hot.
I’d love to set that bag of tacos in the fridge and take Cruz directly to my bedroom, but he went through all that effort, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to eat them warmed up.
Plus, he’s likely hungry given that he works out for a living and it’s later in the day.
Liam went to the clubhouse directly from work.
He texted me and sent me a video of his room.
It’s not very homey, yet. He asked me if I’d be up for picking some things out on Sunday.
If we can’t find anything he likes, he did promise that the lady who owns the antique store—Willa, will make an appointment for us afterhours, working around my schedule.
I try not to get teary, but my eyes have been wet on and off all day.
“Are you worried about Liam?”
Cruz gets me. “Worried might be a little bit strong a word, but missing him sounds ridiculous, seeing I was fine when he moved to Seattle. It’s new.
I think that’s all it is.” I hear the willpower in my voice, as if I can force myself to get on with the adjustment through the force of positive thinking alone. “You smell really good.”
Cruz smiles so wide that the shocking little dimple appears. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to seeing it, but there won’t be a single time that I’m not charmed by it. “You do too. Like you, flowers, and coffee.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good combination. It sounds a little like the bottom of a garbage can.”
He laughs and leans in to kiss my cheek. “Should we feast? I can’t wait to meet your cat.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he’s talking about Priscilla or not, but I know he is, and being naughty is only going to serve to get those tacos tossed in the fridge. Cruz needs to eat. He needs his stamina.
There’s a small chance that I might have been thinking wicked thoughts about this all day.
A whole night to ourselves. I haven’t asked Cruz to stay, but I didn’t tell him that he couldn’t, either.
I thought that it would be best to see where things went.
They don’t have to go anywhere at all. I love everything we’ve done so far.
We can go slow. That would be fine with me.
If we didn’t want to… that would also be fine.
Whatever feelings I’ve had about sex and a future with someone in it no longer apply. Cruz has changed me. He’s changed my brain chemistry. My body’s, too. He’s reworked the whole equation.
I grab our drinks, and we set everything out on the table upstairs.
Prissy comes to greet us first thing, meowing and stretching.
She’s such a sweet cat. It took her no time at all to make herself comfortable in her new surroundings.
The first thing she did after getting out of the cat carrier was to go explore the living room.
She jumped up on the couch, curled up into a little ball, and went straight to sleep.
She’s a small cat, so even though she’s old, you wouldn’t know it.
She has a gorgeous tabby coat, dark brown swirls on top of a light brown background.
She has one white foot, like she dipped it in paint, but it’s the only splash of color on her.
“It’s good to meet you finally,” Cruz says softly, bending down to pet Prissy. He scratches her head and she lets him, even though he’s a stranger.
“You have Cruz to thank for you being here,” I tell her.
She immediately starts purring. Cruz studies her in amazement. “Whoa. Can she understand all of that?”
“She’s exceptionally easy to make purr. You only have to look at her half the time.”
As if she agrees, Prissy saunters to the couch, jumps up, and curls up on top of the blanket Cruz gave me.
I’m a little worried that he’ll be offended that she’s sleeping on it, but he’s of the same mindset as me.
Prissy gets the best of the best. Having her sleep on your lap or on a special blanket is the highest compliment.
I waited a long time for her, and now that she’s here, I’m going to make sure every single day of her life is the best one.
I’d love to do that for Cruz too.
As best as I can.
He sits down across from me and unpacks all the food. It looks like half of this is going in the fridge anyway, unless he can eat for an army. It smells divine and tastes even better.
“Wow,” I groan after the first bite. I flush as Cruz’s eyes darken.
If I want to get through dinner, I should probably limit the foodgasm sounds.
“I’m surprised that you didn’t go into some kind of private security after getting out of the SEALs.
Isn’t that what people usually do? Become bodyguards, or hire out to private firms for different events?
” I ask, to take Cruz’s mind off that taco moaning I just did.
“Some people do. I think that’s more of a stereotype, though.”
“Oh. Sorry. You were so good at it. You took it so seriously. Most people want breaks to eat and sleep. Normal human stuff.”
“It was my job,” he states with such an air of seriousness, but then he smiles.
“No one was paying you. You were helping out your club, and your future Prez might have asked you to do it, but if you would have said no, I’m sure he would have sent someone else.
He would have understood. He never expected you to stay up night after night.
It was nearly impossible to get you to make yourself comfortable, and your knee is probably wrecked from you being off your routine or not being able to stretch out at the end of the day after being on it so much. ”
“It goes off sometimes, but it’s usually random. That’s all.”
“Are you sure? I don’t have to let guilt eat me up about it?”
“I’m sure. I wouldn’t lie about it.”
“I know. You don’t lie often. That’s part of what makes you so unique. You don’t find the need to be all shut down and cagey. It’s not what I expected from someone with a combat background. Weren’t there… things you saw that stuck with you?”
“Sure. They’re still there.” He demolishes a taco, letting that linger, but it doesn’t hit the same way that it would have if he hadn’t dealt with it. The atmosphere is somber, but he finds the words to say what he needs to get out.
“I’ve tried to let them go, but it’s a long road.
There’s stuff all the way from my childhood that I’m still hanging onto, good and bad.
It’s human nature, I think. Sometimes I find just doing something physical helps.
Whether it’s riding or working in the shop.
Anything where you kind of switch off the thinking part of your brain, and instinct, muscle memory, and learning takes over, and you let go.
You’re focusing on the open road and riding safe.
Everything else takes a back seat. That way all the worries and shit just flow out. ”
“I love how you described that.” I finish the rest of the first taco, but sit back and wait for the second. “I have a let it flow, let it go method as well.”
“I might need to go on a word hiatus. I could have just said that there’s no point in creating a monster to protect yourself when you have to end up protecting yourself from that monster.”
“That’s also very true.”
Cruz takes a mouthful of his drink and I can’t help but watch as he swallows.
There’s something about the action that sends heat straight between my legs.
He’s not dressed any differently than he normally is, in a t-shirt, worn in jeans, and his leather vest, but every time I see him, he’s even more delicious.
I notice all the details again… how his t-shirt stretches just right over his pecs and massive biceps, the veins running down his arms, and when he walked in, of course I noticed how his jeans fit his muscular legs to perfection. The way he looks straddling his bike.
Bikes.
My mind goes back to what he just said earlier. “About riding. Liam told me he’s planning on getting a bike.”
Cruz looks up, his gray eyes meeting mine.
There’s no surprise there, though I guess it’s something he knew already.
“It kind of goes with the territory,” he says softly.
He must see something in my expression because he quickly adds, “I’m not being facetious.
Just… Yeah… I know that probably worries you. ”
“How can I not be worried? You hear about accidents… What do medics call them? Donorcycles? He’d literally be on a piece of metal unprotected and at the mercy of all the cars.” I stop myself before I start sounding hysterical.
“There’s always risks in life. We don’t all ride because we have a death wish.
Some of us love life. Maybe when the weather improves you might want to take a ride with me and experience it for yourself?
” he pauses, then says, “Only if you want. If you hate the idea of being on a bike I totally understand. But trust me on this, Liam is a good kid. He’s sensible.
He’s not gonna take chances, and he’s gonna be as safe as he can be. ”
“I guess,” I say, sounding more convinced than I feel.