Chapter 23
__________
Lily
Fully dressed and ready for work. Check. A to-go cup of coffee in hand. Check. Breakfast. Nope. My nerves are too shot for food. Is this what having butterflies feels like? I place a hand on my stomach. It doesn’t settle. My hand moves to my chest. I can feel my own heartbeat. No, this feeling isn’t butterflies in your stomach. The bad-boy biker set off a volcano of emotions within me last night. Whatever he did runs through my blood. No part of my body goes untouched, which is virtually impossible because he didn’t even kiss me.
My lack of sleep last night wasn’t from nightmares. I have plenty of those. Joel’s degrading words and punches didn’t cross my mind all night. I awoke for reasons just as dangerous. This danger could own me, consume me, burn me alive, and, in a way, heal me. My mind’s so warped. Maybe I should make an appointment with the counselor Nanny keeps mentioning.
His words are on repeat in my head. The soft gloves are gone. Everything changes today. And like he requested, I thought of everything . Some of those everythings kept me awake for hours, but from a different kind of fear.
I’ve thought about the members with their ole’ ladies. Like bunnies, it’s a term I’m uneasy with. Jack’s parents’ relationship is intense. I’m not sure his dad likes me very much. Still, there’s no doubt that these men love their wives and children. From what I’ve witnessed, their love is all-consuming. Nothing stops it. Nothing gets in its way.
I lightly laugh. What am I thinking? Jack didn’t ask me to marry him. He didn’t even ask me on a date. Do bikers date? Still, everything means everything. Right?
When I close my eyes, I can still feel his lips on my forehead, soft, sweet, tender. I’ve imagined and even dreamed of those lips moving across my body.
“Nope.” I jerk myself from those thoughts.
Those kinds of thoughts kept me awake most of the night. I can’t think like this right now. I have to go to work.
Three hard, distinctive knocks pound on the front door, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Geez. Even the way he knocks on the door is different today. Girl, get it together. It’s just a knock . My imagination has seriously run away with me.
The three hard knocks come again, jolting me from where I planted myself. This is ridiculous. I’m going to feel like a fool when I open the door. Nobody, or situations, can be that different overnight. Not even Jack McLeod.
“Lily!” Jack shouts as I reach the door.
A set of keys jingle. Oh no. I jerk the door open before he barges through it.
“Geez, Jack. Settle down. I’m fine.”
I’m far from fine. Because of him, I’ll never be fine again. And I was wrong, so very wrong.
He’s wearing the same black boots and T-shirt as always. His jeans are dark blue today. He’s worn them before, but it’s rare. Of course, he has his cut on and a black leather belt. I’ve no clue why he wears the belt. His jeans fit so well that the belt isn’t needed. There’s a black bandana tied loosely around his neck. Now, that’s new.
His mustache and beard are neatly trimmed. He has a little more than the five o’clock shadow most women swoon over. The long strands of his dark hair fall to the side when he tilts his head. I see nothing drastically different about him. Leave it to me to work myself up over a fantasy.
Mentally laughing at myself, I look into his eyes. Everything, including the air around me, shifts. Those are different. His eyes are dark hazel today. When the brief flash of worry leaves his eyes, it happens. I feel the moment those eyes lock onto my soul. Did he feel it, too? His cocky grin says he senses something. I sense I’m in serious trouble. Trouble I won’t be able to save myself from.
“Morning, angel. Ready to go?” He offers me his hand.
And just like that. Mood and fantasy ruined. I step past him without taking his hand.
“I don’t want to be treated like an angel anymore.” I shouldn’t have to remind him.
“You won’t be.” He locks the door, grabs my hand, and pulls me down the steps.
His truck isn’t in the front yard. We take the path toward the clubhouse. Okay. Really? Just because I don’t want to be treated like glass means I’m no longer being picked up at the front door? Geez. That’s kind of harsh.
He answers a call as he opens one of the doors at the back of the building. Am I working here now? I mean, it’s fine, but what will Emily think if I don’t give her a notice? Not doing so is very unprofessional. Hold on a second. I slightly hang back. Jack pulls me right along behind him.
“Jack, wait.”
He doesn’t stop or slow his pace. Jenny thought I was the new girl last night. If I’m no longer a part of Ariel’s Angels, does it mean I have to work for the club? As a bunny? Oh no. No. No. No. No way am I doing it.
“Jack, I’m not doing this.”
We walk through the middle of the clubhouse with him still on the phone. Surprisingly, there are a lot of people here for a Tuesday morning. The same group of guys play pool but minus the bunnies. Three older members sit at the bar with Pops and Granddad. All of them call out good morning to Jack. He lifts the hand, still holding mine, and keeps walking. We walk right out the front door into the parking lot.
“What was that?” I look back at the clubhouse over my shoulder.
“That was the Den. You’ve been there several times.” He continues to pull me along like I’m a ragged doll.
Ha ha. Very funny. I swat his left shoulder. He abruptly stops and pulls me to him. The left side of his lips twitch.
“So, we’re doing this today, are we?”
“You’re insane.” I shove against him. No, he doesn’t budge an inch.
“A twelve on a scale of one to ten.” He gives a firm nod, proud of his assessment of himself, and starts walking again.
“Where are we going?”
“To work, angel,” he replies over his shoulder.
He stops behind a row of motorcycles parked in front of the clubhouse. “Now, just what is it you’re not doing?”
“Um.” I release a shaky breath. “Where am I working?”
“The bakery.” He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. “You alright, angel? Did something happen last night after I left? You hit your head? Maybe eat something you’re allergic to?”
That’s a really weird question. If I ate something I was allergic to, I’d break out in a rash, or it would affect my breathing. It wouldn’t affect my mind. Wait a minute. He’s calling me crazy.
“No.” I don’t say what I’m really thinking. “This is just different.”
“As I promised,” he reminds me.
I don’t want to talk about last night. Instead, I slowly scan the lot. “Where’s your truck?”
“At home.”
He takes a black helmet from the motorcycle seat in front of us and hands it to me. I stare at the shiny object in my hands. The front, back, and one side are just black with no markings. The design and shape of the helmet make plain black look pretty. I gasp when I turn it to the right. This side has a set of gold wings, and my name is printed in a fancy red font. This makes the helmet beautiful.
“Jack, I can’t ride your motorcycle.”
He throws a leg over the bike and settles on the seat. Wow. That was hot. If I asked, would he do it again? Nope. Not happening.
“It’s not up for debate.” He taps the helmet. “Put this on. Safety first.”
“Jack,” I plead.
He leans close, balancing the bike between his legs, and wraps an arm around my waist. This is different. Better. Please don’t let it be a dream.
“Come on, angel. Live dangerously with me today.”
My eyes drop to his lips. Dangerous with this man has nothing to do with getting on a motorcycle. He pulls me closer to where our noses almost touch. His eyes seem to darken while I watch.
“Oh, we’re definitely going there today, angel.” He holds my gaze just long enough for me to forget my own name before pulling back. “But we gotta go. We’re going to be late. Put your helmet on. Then step on the peg.” He taps my thigh. “Swing one of these babies over and wrap them around me.”
I suck in a breath and lean back. He’s beyond insane. Twelve my foot. He’s at least a fifteen.
“Helmet.” He taps it again.
I turn the helmet over. I’ve never worn one, but it’s obvious which way it goes. Jack pops the strap and takes it from me. He tucks loose strands of hair behind my ear. Yeah, I understand now why that’s a swoon-worthy move. He carefully slides the helmet on my head and adjusts the fit.
He fastens the strap and smiles. “Perfect.”
“I can do this,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
“One foot on the peg. Leg over,” he reminds me.
“And wrap them around you,” I add.
His cocky grin is back. “Absolutely, angel.”
I would say I abandoned my fear. I didn’t. While still clinging to it, I step onto the peg and swing my leg over the bike.
“Happy?”
“Nope.” He places a hand behind my knee and pulls me forward until my chest is against his back. He grins over his shoulder. “This’ll do for now.”
Oh my gosh. I may die right here. We don’t have to move, and I already understand why women enjoy this. Jack puts his helmet on and starts the bike. The vibrations intensify what I’m feeling. Please don’t let him ask if I’m okay.
Wrap your arms around my waist,” he says through the speaker in my helmet.
“We can talk to each other?”
“Technology is wonderful.” He eases the bike through the gate and stops at the end of the drive. He leans back against me slightly and glances at me over his shoulder. “Hold on tight, angel. It’s time to fly.”
My body vibrates just as much as the bike does. I’ve never felt a high like this. The moment the tires touch the road, we fly.