Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
While a Memorial Day barbecue at the clubhouse had sounded fun, Eva and I had decided to skip out in favor of a movie marathon.
We’d managed to talk Reaper into bringing us plates of pulled pork, smoked brisket, and baked beans while he and his brothers enjoyed a party without worrying about whether we’d find ourselves in the line of fire if another drive-by occurred.
In between laughing at the antics of our favorite characters, she grilled me about the apparent chemistry between me and Hatchet. And, despite my insistence that nothing was going on, she pressed on persistently.
Two bottles of wine and three movies later, Eva and Hawk crashed in my spare bedroom. They left before breakfast when Reaper honked on the horn at sunrise, picking them up. After a sleepy goodbye, Brisket and I curled back in bed, choosing to snooze for another few hours.
I stretched beneath the quilt, and Brisket groaned beside me, his long legs in the air as he insisted on belly rubs. My phone pinged, forcing me to fully open my eyes and acknowledge the morning.
Hatchet:
You missed a good time last night. Want to grab brunch? I can tell you all about how Archer got so drunk that he danced on the bar.
Me:
Please tell me you got video. Diner in an hour?
Hatchet:
See you then.
I walked Brisket before I showered, patiently allowing him to sniff the trail for chipmunks and Goldfish crackers dropped by toddlers.
When we got back home, I barely had enough time to shower.
I quickly dried my hair and swiped on mascara before slipping into a green and white polka dot sundress and lacing up my chunky black boots.
As I walked into the diner, the scent of bacon and coffee wrapped around me. Hatchet was already there, standing to greet me with a grin. He pulled me into a hug, his arms warm and strong.
“You look beautiful this morning.”
I smiled up at him, letting myself enjoy the way his attention made me feel desired.
Hatchet always made it clear he was attracted to me.
He flirted easily, laughed often, and had that effortless charm that made it impossible not to like him.
Maybe Eva was right. Even if he wasn’t looking to settle down, Hatchet was the kind of man I could ease back into a relationship with.
Maybe not forever, but at least for now.
I could open myself up to something with him—something fun and light.
Something that didn’t demand more than I could give.
“Show me this video,” I insisted as I slid into the booth beside him instead of across.
Hatchet pulled out his phone and played the video of a drunken Archer dancing on the bar like he was auditioning for Coyote Ugly. I laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of my eyes.
Hatchet slipped his phone back into his pocket, and I started to slide away to move across from him, but he wrapped an arm around my hip to stop me.
“Stay,” he whispered into my ear, his whiskers tickling my neck.
Goose bumps spread across my skin, and I leaned into him, noticing the envious look on the waitress’s face as she took our order. We swapped stories, teased each other, and I laughed until my cheeks hurt. He made everything feel uncomplicated.
After we finished eating, Hatchet paid the bill and walked me to my Range Rover. His hand rested on my lower back, and the touch sent a flutter through my stomach.
“Thanks for brunch,” I said, squinting in the sun as I gazed up at him.
Hatchet tipped my chin up with his thumb, his eyes searching mine. “It’s always a pleasure.” He paused and then leaned in, pressing his lips to mine.
I waited for the rush of feelings I’d expected. But as our lips met, I felt … nothing. No spark, no racing heart, no longing.
All the underlying chemistry and attraction I’d thought I could feel for him fizzled away.
I pulled back and looked up at him with furrowed brows, curious if he noticed how off it felt.
But he only smiled. How could he not see that there was no fire in it?
How could he not look at me with the same shock?
“Um, I need to go,” I said suddenly. I needed space. Before Hatchet could respond, I jumped into my Range Rover and sped away. In the rearview mirror, I watched him stand in the dust, his expression mired in confusion.
As I drove, my mind raced. Was I broken? Maybe losing Alec had shattered a part of me irreparably. Maybe I couldn’t love like that anymore.
Alec and I had been together since we were fifteen—high school, college, adulthood. I’d always believed he was my soulmate. Maybe every kiss, every moment would pale in comparison to what we had.
What about Merrick? The thought startled me. I’d pushed away any feelings that bubbled up in his presence because he’d never flirted like Hatchet. He was quiet, guarded, and respectful. He’d been there when I needed him, but he’d never crossed the line.
But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense that Merrick wouldn’t show up that way. Like me, he’d experienced loss and grief in a way that changed a person.
Maybe that was why I felt so drawn to him—because he understood the shadows inside me, the parts that still ached and longed for the ghost of my past.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. Maybe I wasn’t broken. Maybe I just needed more than charm and laughter. Maybe I needed someone who could see me—scars and all—and still choose to stay.
I pulled into my driveway and put the vehicle in park. There was only one way to find out. To stop the spiraling. I opened my phone to send the text before I lost my nerve.
Me:
Can you come over?
I tapped the steering wheel impatiently. Merrick responded within seconds.
Merrick:
What’s going on?
Me:
Nothing serious. I just need to see you.
My gut churned as I considered how to broach this conversation now that I’d pulled the trigger.
Merrick:
I’m close by. Be there in 10.
There was no backing out now. I paced by the door with a confused Brisket at my heels, wringing my hands in front of me. My stomach lurched as the distant rumble of a motorcycle grew louder, then cut off abruptly outside.
Was I really going to do this? Could I jeopardize our friendship in this wild experiment?
I opened the door to find Merrick jogging up to my house, concern etched across his face. The porch creaked as his heavy boots hit each step.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes scanned my body, as if he were looking for bruises or marks.
I grabbed a fistful of his cut as he stepped through my door.
“Kiss me,” I demanded.
A faint crease pulled between his brows. “What?”
“Kiss. Me.” I punctuated each word and tugged on the leather until he stood flush against my body.
For a heartbeat, he hesitated. “Kenna …” He searched my face.
My stomach dropped as regret coursed through me. I loosened my grip on the leather as I began to step away.
“Fuck it,” Merrick muttered, pressing into my body until he pinned me between the wall and the solid heat of his chest, one hand gripping my hip.
He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, his hand moving up to gently wrap around my neck.
The kiss was tentative for a beat before it became hungry.
Sensation surged across my body, and my heart began to beat in my chest like a trapped hummingbird as his tongue swept across the seam of my mouth, coaxing me to open. He deepened the kiss, and I hummed in pleasure. I melted against him as he slowly consumed me.
Merrick pulled back and gazed at me, and my breath caught. He tucked a rogue curl behind my ear. “Not that I’m complaining, but why?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t thought this part through. He stepped back, giving me space as he saw the uncertainty flit across my face.
I grimaced. “It’s going to sound bad.”
“Try me.”
“I’m serious. It’s horrible.”
“Stop spiraling. Tell me,” he said, his tone calm but insistent.
The words spilled out in a rush. “Hatchet kissed me after brunch, and I felt nothing. I was worried that maybe I was broken. Maybe I’d never feel this again because I’m dead inside.
Numb. But then I started thinking about you.
I wanted to kiss you to see how it felt.
” I stopped to catch my breath, bracing for anger or judgment to cross his face.
Merrick remained stoic. I shifted my gaze to the floor.
“Look at me,” he commanded. Merrick tilted his head and raised a brow. “How did it feel when you kissed me?”
I swallowed hard as I searched for the words. “Like the world stopped turning and my heart started beating again.”
A smile crept across his face.
“Um, what about you?” I bit my lip. “If you just want to be friends, I understand. I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I just—”
Merrick cut me off, crushing his lips to mine again before pulling back and cupping my face with his hands. “It feels like every moment I’ve spent with you, tinder has been added to a smoldering flame. When our lips touched, you ignited something inside me. Like a wildfire crossing the plains.”
We stumbled to the couch, and I pressed him to sit down before straddling his lap. His hands moved down, cupping my ass as we kissed again.
I rolled my hips, and the move drew a low sound from his chest—half groan, half growl. His hands wrapped around my waist, guiding me as I moved slowly against him. He slid a palm under my shirt, the callouses of his hand scraping my skin and sending shivers through my entire body.
I moaned and pushed his cut over his shoulders before I pulled at his shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it away. I ran my fingers over his pecs and arched my back as his hand began moving up my thigh. Then Merrick stilled.
I looked at him in question.
His forehead fell to mine and he sucked in a ragged breath. “If we take this any further, I won’t have the control to stop.”
“I don’t want you to.”
He squeezed his eyes shut like he fought to restrain his desire. “Neither do I, but does Hatchet know how you feel?”