Chapter 9
With a sigh,I gripped my phone. “Sorry about that,” I said to Bones. “I haven’t started on the waffles.”
“So, your mother…”
“My mother.”
“You didn’t tell her about yesterday.” His blue eyes surveyed me. “Why not?”
“It’s complicated,” I said slowly.
“I’m a pretty smart guy. I think I can follow along.”
I sent him soft smile and gestured with my chin toward the kitchen. “You know how to crack eggs?”
“I’m better at cracking skulls.”
I blinked, but when Bones didn’t rescind his comment, I realized he wasn’t joking.
There’s a badass biker in my house.
“No time like the present to learn.”
We headed back to the kitchen and gathered everything I needed to make waffles.
“So, your mom,” Bones pressed.
“My mom can’t handle stress,” I said.
“Can’t, or won’t?”
I plugged in the waffle iron. “Can’t. When life gets too stressful for her, she checks out. It’s not like she goes into a state of depression or anything. Nothing like that. But she’s…she has to be protected.”
“You’re making her sound fragile.”
“She is fragile.”
“She’s your mother. You really don’t think she would want to know what happens in her daughter’s life?”
“Oh, she wants to know what happens in my life. She’s even trying to manufacture a marriage for me.” I shook my head.
“With a senator’s son.”
“You heard more than you let on.” I whisked the ingredients together and then ladled the batter into the hot waffle iron.
“Why’s she so determined to fix you up?”
“She was really happy with my dad,” I said absently. “And she wants that for me. Only her approach is sort of lacking. I’m supposed to meet this guy at the charity event Charlie and I are going to in a few weeks. But now he’s gonna call and I’m going to have to level with him.”
“Level with him about what?”
“That I’m not interested.”
“Senators’ sons aren’t your type?”
I shrugged.
“What is your type?”
His tone had lowered, and I looked up to meet his intense, focused gaze. My eyes skittered over his tattoos, his strong jaw, the breadth of his shoulders.
“What’s your type?” I fired back.
“Big tits, big hair, big attitude.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “I think I’m going to burn your waffle on purpose.”
“You can burn my waffle any time you want.”
“Okay, how did you make that sexual?” I asked.
“That wasn’t sexual. You just read into what I said as being sexual. Are you thinking about sex?”
“No.”
“You ever think about sex?” he asked.
“For someone that needs caffeine in the morning, you’re far too on-the-nose for this conversation.”
Bones slid off the stool and sauntered toward me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded as he glided up behind me, pressing his strong chest against my back.
“I want to learn how to make waffles.”
“You were learning fine from over there.”
His large hand went to my hip, and I felt him turn his head so that his nose brushed against my hair. “I have bad eyesight.”
“Then get glasses…”
“You like men who wear glasses? You’re into hot nerds, aren’t you? I know the quadratic formula.”
“You do not,” I said with a laugh.
“I do. My math teacher taught it to us in a song. I still know the song, I still know the formula, but I have no idea what the fuck to use it for. By the way, your nipples are hard.”
“They are not!” I lied.
“They so are. If I’d known that math turned you on, I would’ve mentioned it sooner.”
I arched my back just a bit and bumped my ass against him.
He sucked in a harsh breath.
“Prove it,” I stated.
“Prove what? That being near you makes me hard?”
His words sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. “No, I mean prove that you know the quadratic formula.”
“X is equal to negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus 4ac all over 2a.”
“You could’ve made that up,” I said.
“Jesus, Duchess. Will you give me one?”
I turned in his arms so that I was flush against the counter. We stared at one another and then his lips met mine.
My hand went to the back of his neck, sinking into the dark hair at his nape.
I felt him everywhere. I was surrounded by his heat, his scent. His tongue slid into my mouth and he pressed against me.
“It’s burning,” I murmured against his mouth.
“What’s burning?” he asked as he glided his lips to my cheek. “Your loins?”
“The waffle.” I laughed.
He pulled away from me, but I was in danger of saying screw it and demanding he go back to kissing me.
Bones stayed close as I removed the waffle from the waffle iron. It was dark golden brown, and I placed it on the plate and set it down on the island in front of the stool he’d vacated.
“Eat,” I commanded. “Before it gets cold.”
“I’d rather eat you…”
The ladle fell from my hand and clanked into the mixing bowl. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” Bones asked as he walked to the stool and took a seat. “It’s the truth.”
“Because you can’t,” I said in exasperation. “People don’t…that’s not how people talk.”
“If they don’t, they should. We should all be more honest about what we want, don’t you think?” Bones slathered his waffle with butter and maple syrup.
“There’s such a thing as decorum.”
“Fuck decorum. When the senator’s son calls you, are you gonna be polite and brush him off, or are you gonna tell him that your mother is trying to set you up and you’re not interested?”
“I don’t have to hurt his feelings,” I replied as I closed the waffle iron.
“No, you’re just willing to be a pawn in your mother’s schemes. Do you have any real boundaries? Or have you been a people pleaser your entire life?”
“Are you trying to be an ass?” I snapped.
“No. I’m genuinely curious.” He raised his brows as he waited for me to answer. When I didn’t, he went on, “Even if you tell this guy you’re not interested and you’ve told your mom to back off, do you really think she will?”
“No. She won’t back off until she sees that I’m dating someone,” I replied. “That’s the only thing that’ll get her to stop.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
I frowned. “Do what?”
“I’ll be your date to this charity, ball-gala or whatever.”
His statement rendered me speechless. My eyes took in his appearance. Sexy as hell, rough around the edges, and those tattoos…
He wasn’t from my world.
I could only imagine him striding into the gala wearing jeans and his leather cut.
“You don’t seem to hate the idea,” Bones said with a raise of his brows.
“Ah, don’t take this the wrong way, but?—”
“Everything you just said before the but is bullshit. Spit it out, Duchess. You worried I’m going to embarrass you? Worried I’m too crass to hang with you and your crowd for the night?”
“Worried is the wrong word,” I admitted. “But these people…they expect a certain appearance.”
“Okay.”
“You’d have to wear a tux.”
“Fine. James Bond is cool as fuck.”
My lips twitched. “There are forks.”
“So, I can’t eat with my hands? Damn.”
“It’s a sit-down dinner. There are appetizer forks, dinner forks, salad forks, dessert forks. There’s a way to set your napkin on your lap. I learned all these things at various cotillions over the years.”
“You’re right, I’ve never seen a fork. I’m a spork guy all the way.”
“Bones…” I sighed.
“Duchess,” he said in the same tone. “I don’t like the idea of senators’ sons sniffing around you. You want to stick me in a tux and teach me about forks, then go ahead. I’ll do it. Your world doesn’t scare me.”
“Does anything scare you?”
“No,” he brazened. “I don’t have the DNA for fear.”
“Hmm. This is either the worst idea or the best idea ever,” I murmured.
The front door opened and a moment later, Charlie popped into the kitchen. “Thought I smelled waff—” She stopped and looked at Bones. “You’re still here.”
“I’m still here,” Bones agreed.
“Wait,” I said. “How did you know he was here?”
“I called you like an hour after you got home and you didn’t answer. When I couldn’t get a hold of you, I asked Savage to call Bones. Bones told me you were already asleep and that he was staying the night.”
“I was going to call you back this morning,” I said, plating the waffle and handing it to her. “But I got sidetracked by my mother’s phone call.”
Charlie glanced at Bones, looking like she wanted to say something but was hesitant to voice it aloud.
“Bones knows we don’t tell my mother things,” I said, giving her a pass.
“Oh, okay.”
“Bones is going to go with me to the charity event,” I explained.
Her grin was slow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I’m so glad I get to see that. Please tell me you’re introducing him as Bones only, no last name.”
“I’m still in the room,” Bones said as he polished off the rest of his waffle.
“Well, can you leave so we can talk about you?” Charlie demanded. “I want to gossip with my best friend.”
“He can’t leave yet,” I stated. “He has to wait for a prospect to pick him up.”
“A prospect dropped my motorcycle off last night,” Bones explained. “You didn’t hear it?”
I shook my head.
“You really sleep hard,” Bones said with a laugh. “Gimme your phone. I’m putting my number in it.”
I unlocked my cell and handed it to him. While he punched in his number, Charlie and I looked at each other. She raised her brow and I shook my head.
Bones handed my phone back to me. I glanced at the name he’d put in.
“You didn’t.”
“I did,” he said with a smile.
“What?” Charlie asked.
I let out a laugh. “He put his contact in as Bad to the Bones.”
Bones took his empty plate to the sink, rinsed it off, and put it in the dishwasher.
When he turned around, he saw both Charlie and me watching him.
He raised a brow. “What? I know what a dishwasher is. For the record, I’m house trained.”
“I like you more and more,” Charlie said, shoveling a bite of waffle into her mouth. “Thanks for taking care of her last night.”
“Happy to do it.” Bones met my gaze. “You’ll call me?”
I nodded.
He stalked toward me, grasped the back of my head, and kissed me. A noise of surprise escaped my mouth, but the kiss was over as soon as it started. Bones pulled back and grinned. “Later, Duchess.”