Chapter 10
TEN
SHOTGUN
I swing my leg over my bike, and reach into my saddle bags, taking out the drawstring bag I dumped my bloody clothes into.
I could’ve disposed of them after I took a quick shower at the clubhouse, but I knew…
I fucking knew she’d have the fire pit going.
The woman has a sixth sense when it comes to my sins.
Clutching the bag in my fist, I follow the scent of burning wood into the yard. I find Jade sitting in one of the Adirondak chairs in front of the fire, her knees drawn up to her chest, a glass of red wine in her hand, the mostly empty bottle on the small table beside her.
I pause for a moment, giving myself a moment to drink her in. The glow from the fire illuminates her face, and I can see her cheeks are flushed. I’m just not sure if that’s a side effect of the wine or the heat from the fire. Either way, she looks vibrant and relaxed.
Unsticking my feet from the ground, I tear my gaze away from her and make my way toward the fire.
Feeling her eyes on me, I reach into the bag and toss my sneakers into the flames, watching as fire grow taller.
Next to go is my bloody t-shirt, followed by my favorite pair of jeans.
When there is nothing left to burn, I throw the bag into the pit too.
It’s all so routine.
“What number is that?”
Her voice is raspy. It gets like that after she’s had a few drinks, or when she’s overly tired, and every time it happens, it sends a jolt to my cock.
Because try as I might to forget, I know her voice gets like that when she cums too.
I close my eyes as the image of her pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around Irish’s waist, fills my head.
You think after all these years I would’ve found a way to bleach the memory from my mind, but for some torturous reason, my brain won’t let me forget the way she looked that night.
Her cheeks were flushed then too, and when she begged him to fuck her harder, her eyes locked with mine over his shoulder. I expected to feel some resemblance of shame at her catching me watch her climb her way to ecstasy, but that feeling never came.
I swallow thickly as my eyes meet her from over the flames. “Four.”
She’s witnessed the aftermath of every kill, and it doesn’t seem to faze her. At least not in the way I figured it would.
I guess Irish trained her right.
There ain’t too many women who would still welcome a man into her home, and trust him with her children, all while knowing the night before he was drawing the filthy soul out of a body, even if that body is the reason she’s a widow.
Jade eyes me from the rim of her glass but doesn’t say a word.
She accepts me as I am.
Every cell in my body knows I should bid her goodnight and make my way to the side apartment. The adrenaline is still alive in my veins, and I did nothing to release it. I am a ticking time bomb walking straight to Hell.
I drop my ass into the chair next to hers, my gaze lowering to the bottle of wine.
“You and Bella polish that off?” I ask, smoothing my hands over my denim clad thighs. I hunker back against the chair, spreading my legs wide as I make myself comfortable, staring at her as she takes a long sip of her wine, draining what’s left in the glass.
“Nope, that’s bottle number two. She helped with the first one, but I took this one down all on my own,” she replies, licking the remnants of wine from her lips before setting the empty glass on top of the table. Her gaze flits to mine. “I got bored waiting for you.”
“I told you not to.”
“You say that every time, and every time you find me in the exact same spot as I’m in tonight.”
She refills her glass, finishing off the bottle before her eyes cut back to me and a frown graces her pretty mouth. “Are you going to make me drink alone?”
“Wine ain’t really my thing.”
She lowers her bare feet to the floor, and pops out of the chair, giving me my first look at tonight’s choice of pajamas. Another camisole, this one ivory with lace trim around the neckline, and of course, because the universe hates me, the shorts match.
“I’ll get you a beer,” she offers.
Consuming any alcohol, even a measly beer, is not a smart move on my behalf.
Not tonight.
Not the way I’m feeling.
Yet I don’t stop her.
Jade and I have come to some sort of a silent understanding.
I have no doubt the reason she lets me take care of her and the kids is because I let her take care of me.
Making sure I eat, keeping the light on the side of the house on when I’m not home, and stocking her fridge with the beer I prefer—it’s her way of giving back.
It makes her feel purposeful, and when Jade feels like she’s got purpose, her confidence soars.
She doesn’t need to parade around in six-hundred-dollar heels that tear her feet to shreds just to walk with her head high, she needs to feel appreciated.
“Here you go,” she says, extending the beer to me. “I brought out some chips and guac too in case you’re hungry. Bella made the guac herself. It’s so good.”
I lean forward, taking the beer from her as she drops the bowl of guacamole on the table between us, along with a bag of chips. Before she takes a seat again, she reaches behind her, and tugs at the hem of her shorts.
I clear my throat before taking a long pull from the bottle.
The fact her shorts are riding up her ass makes me wonder if she’s even wearing any underwear.
“Did you have a good night?”
“Yeah, it was fun,” she says as she finally falls back into the chair, crossing her legs.
As she reaches for her wine, the strap of her camisole falls of her shoulder, giving me a clear shot of the side of her tit.
I bite back a curse, and try to pay attention to what she’s saying, but the woman makes it so damn hard.
It’s always the ones who don’t try to get a man’s engine going that actually do.
“The boys were exhausted from practice, and Killian went to bed early, so we weren’t interrupted much. Did you know she and Guido haven’t spoken in two weeks?”
I didn’t know that. We don’t really get involved in one another’s business, but even if we did, Guido is vault when it pertains to Bella.
I don’t know what the man thinks he’s hiding by keeping his feelings under lock and key.
It’s totally obvious he’s in love with her.
A man doesn’t put a woman on the back of his bike unless he believes that’s where he belongs.
That being said, them not speaking for a couple of weeks isn’t a new development. They’ve always been hot and cold with each other. The cold comes whenever there is a new man in Bella’s life.
“Let me guess, she’s dating someone new.”
Jade’s gaze cuts back to me, and she raises one of her perfectly arched eyebrows. “How did you know that?”
I take another pull of my beer. “It happens every time. He can’t handle the idea of her being with someone else, but he’s too much of a pussy to claim her for himself.”
There are no laws that keep him from taking what he wants. No fucking excuses. Another man would consider that a fucking gift.
Jade frowns at that. “I think they would be good together.”
So do I, but what we think doesn’t really matter.
“She likes this new guy, though. They’ve only been on one date, but he keeps asking her out again.
He wants to take her on a helicopter ride over the city.
” She pauses, lifting her glass to her lips.
I watch as she takes a sip, the long column of her throat working as she swallows.
If she only knew how many times I pictured marking her there.
“Sounds romantic, doesn’t it?”
I shake my head, dismissing any thoughts of me sucking her neck before I play back the question.
I’ve never put much stock in being a romantic, but renting a helicopter to take a woman on a joyride to see some skyscrapers seems like over kill to me.
You want to impress a woman, give her your time.
The effort a man puts into a woman, appreciating her for who she is and loving her on the days she doesn’t love herself, that’s unmatched.
You can rent a fucking rocket ship and send her to the moon, spend a million dollars on frivolous nonsense, and none of it will have the same effect.
The richest men are the ones with empty pockets. Those are the romantics.
“I guess that depends on what your definition of romance.”
Keeping her eyes on the fire, she traces her finger around the rim of her glass.
“I miss it,” she whispers.
“Romance?”
She glances down at her glass. “All of it. Date nights, having someone call me when I’m not around just to tell me they miss me. Kissing before bed, and lazy kisses in the mornings to start the day.”
I would fucking give my life to kiss her like that just once.
“It’s been over two years since I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle.”
Give my life for that too. Can’t imagine there being anything better than feeling her tits against my back while I squeeze her thigh to mine and we ride.
“I miss those long rides. You know the ones that never have any specific destination but when they end you realize they weren’t meant for anything more than foreplay?”
No, I don’t.
A brazen Jade makes for a dangerous time. I don’t know what the hell is in that wine, but whatever it is has loosened her lips. The woman is killing me slowly, and if I don’t put an end to it now, I’m going to do something I can’t take back.
“Don’t know anything about that. Never had a woman on the back of my bike.”
I don’t know why she looks so shocked by that.
“Then I guess we’re both missing out.”
When you only want one woman, and she’s off limits, it doesn’t feel that way. I’d be a fraud if I put anyone that wasn’t her on the back of my bike, and you can’t miss something you never had.
“But you know what I miss most?”
Don’t ask.
Whatever you do, don’t fucking ask.
“Sex,” she blurts. “I miss sex.”