Chapter 23
The force of the breeze pressed against Lydia's face. She turned her head and placed the side of the helmet against the back of Baddy's shoulder, using him as a windbreak. He rode easy, lulling her into relaxing the farther away they got from the diner.
She recognized the area. They were heading toward his house.
Her pulse quickened. She had no idea why he was taking her back to his place, but being with him eased the stress that had built throughout the day while she worked.
The regular customers had quickly forgotten about the drive-by shooting. Patty was right when she claimed they'd all forget if they didn't make a big deal about it. So, each waitress pretended nothing happened and went back to smiling for tips. It worked because no one asked about the new windows.
When he parked in front of the garage, he glanced over his shoulder at her. "Was the ride okay?"
"Yeah." She slid off the seat. "The new jacket keeps all the wind out. Much better than..."
She didn't want to remind him that the old leather jacket she wore before had belonged to Sonny and was too big for her. He was aware without the reminder. It was probably why he'd bought the jacket on impulse when he was paying for her new clothes at Harley Davidson.
Inside, the house was the same as when he'd brought her here when they first met. Clean but lived-in, masculine without trying. She inhaled deeply. It was probably her imagination that she could smell butter and syrup as if he'd had pancakes recently.
"Go ahead and get comfortable." Baddy headed to the kitchen, washed his hands, and took out a pan.
She sat on the end of the couch and eyed him while he moved around, opening cabinets.
Soon, the popping of popcorn filled the house. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up on the couch. Her mom used to make microwave popcorn when Lydia was younger, but she never made it on the stove.
The popping stopped. Her stomach growled.
"I'm gonna have a beer." He opened the fridge. "What do you want to drink?"
"Pop or water is fine."
He handed her a Pepsi to her, then picked up the remote and dropped it beside her. "Pick something for us to watch."
She sat at one end, curling her legs under her, flipping through the streaming apps. Baddy sat beside her, close but not touching.
"You're sitting too far away," he said, voice low.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, but she didn't argue. She scooted closer, then closer still, until she was pressed against his side. His arm lifted automatically, letting her tuck beneath it. She draped her legs over his, entwining their bodies.
She kept scrolling until Yellowstone popped up.
"You ever watch this?" she asked.
"A couple of episodes."
"Which ones?"
"First two, I think."
She nodded and clicked on episode three.
As the opening scene played, Baddy's hand settled on her thigh. She leaned into him, seeking his comfort.
The soft couch, dim light, and Baddy's arm around her shoulders were perfect after the hellish day she'd had. She curled closer, riding the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek.
The popcorn sat untouched on the coffee table.
Yellowstone played in front of them, but she couldn't focus on a single line of dialogue. Not when his thumb slowly caressed her arm. Not when his other hand rested on her thigh. Not when every shift of his body brought her closer as if gravity pulled them together.
She tilted her head to look at him.
He was already gazing at her.
Her breath caught.
He waited for her to change her mind, or maybe he waited for permission. Though by now, he should've known it wasn't needed.
Her fingers slid up his chest, curling lightly into the fabric of his shirt. Baddy leaned in, brushing his lips against her mouth.
Then she kissed him back.
The show faded. The room faded. Everything faded except the warmth of his mouth on hers and the way his hand cupped her jaw. She shifted closer, pressing against him, and he pulled her fully into his lap, his arms wrapping around her like he'd been waiting to do it all day.
Her hands slid up the back of his neck, threading her fingers into his hair. He deepened the kiss, slowly and carefully. The tension of the last few days melted away.
The episode played on, but neither of them was watching anymore.
She kissed him again, softer this time, taking her time memorizing the shape of something she never thought she'd be allowed to have.
Baddy cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks as if she were fragile and precious. He rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in the same unsteady rhythm.
"Lydia," he murmured.
She didn't know who moved first. Maybe they both did. But suddenly she pressed against him, her legs tangled with his, her hands clenched the front of his shirt as if afraid he'd disappear if she let go.
He held her tighter and deepened, then softened, then deepened the kiss again, like waves pulling them under and letting them rise only long enough to breathe each other in.
When they finally broke apart, she stayed curled against him, her cheek over his heart. His hand slid into her hair, fingers threading through it slowly, reverently.
The TV droned on in front of them, forgotten.
The world outside kept spinning.
But here on this couch, in the quietness of the house, wrapped in the arms of a man who looked at her like she was worth the attention, Lydia found herself falling in love with him.
Baddy pressed a kiss to the top of her head, lingering there, breathing her in.
"You know what's crazy?" he whispered in a rough voice.
She tilted her head, waiting to hear.
"I have no clue what the hell is going on in this show," he said, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. "But I'd watch a thousand episodes if it meant you'd stay right here."
Her chest warmed. She cupped his whiskered cheek. "I want to stay with you."
He closed his eyes for a moment, then he opened them and looked at her the way she'd always dreamed of a man looking at her.
In that quiet, breathless moment, Lydia understood something she would remember for the rest of her life. Tonight wasn't only the night she fell in love with Baddy.
This was the night she stopped being afraid of ending up like her mother.
Baddy wasn't like the bikers in her past. He was unique. He was wonderful.