Chapter 17
It was after three A.M. Saturday morning when I pulled into Twister’s driveway.
Unlike every other time I showed up at his place, I didn’t arrive empty handed.
I’d tossed a fresh pair of underwear, a toothbrush, face cleanser, my microfiber wash cloth, moisturizer, and a hair clip into my purse.
I also brought a paper sack full of pantry items I procured earlier, after I enjoyed a cup of coffee from my new machine.
Before stepping out of my Bronco, I took off my blade and stowed it in my glove compartment.
I gathered the rest of my things, locked my vehicle, then hurried toward the house.
When I stepped onto his porch, I noticed he’d left the light on for me.
Rather than ring the bell, I tried the handle of his front door and found it unlocked.
“Hey,” I called, poking my head inside.
“Lock it behind you, would you?” was his reply.
I granted myself entrance and did as he requested, following the sound of his voice into the kitchen.
He was in a pair of gym shorts and little else, his backside leaned against the counter next to his stove, his bare legs extended in front of him, crossed at the ankle.
He had a beer in one hand and his phone in the other—his Corona almost empty.
He jerked his chin my way, flashing me a crooked smile as he asked, “What’d you bring me?”
Setting the sack on top of the island, I laughed to myself as I began to unpack my haul.
He was bound to be disappointed, knowing his eating habits.
I took out a jar of salted, natural, creamy peanut butter, a box of mixed-nuts snack packs, and another of breakfast protein bars.
It was when I set aside the package of rice cakes that he moved.
“No offense, sparky—but what the fuck?” he asked, tugging the bag toward him so he could peek inside at the rest of my items.
“If I’m gonna keep comin’ around, there needs to be some food in these cupboards. Especially on nights like tonight. Three o’clock shows up and I’m too hungry to even consider sleep.”
“Okay, fine, but rice cakes? They’re not even flavored.”
“It’s what the peanut butter is for.”
He quirked a judgmental eyebrow at me and then continued to unpack my bag, narrating as he went. “White cheddar popcorn—okay, not awful. Frosted Mini Wheats?” He paused and looked my way once more. “Cereal’s garbage. You know how much sugar they put in this shit?”
“I’m not big on sweets. I like cereal for dessert. Get over it,” I declared, yanking the box from his grasp. “You know, if it bothers you so much, I could pack all this up and go home.”
In the blink of an eye, my hands were empty, my cereal was sent sliding across the counter, and I was gathered in Twister’s arms, my palms braced against the eagle tatted across his chest.
“Fat chance,” he murmured.
Then he kissed me.
Unfortunately, he didn’t linger long.
But when he pulled away, those brown eyes were alight with amusement, just the way I liked.
“You’re welcome to store your fuel wherever there’s space. Next time, say the word, I’ll fill the fridge, too. Get you some milk to go with your cereal.”
I felt my way up his chest and over his shoulders, pulling myself closer as I informed him, “I like it better dry.”
“Whatever, weirdo,” he spoke through a smirk. “All I’m sayin’ is, I’ll handle it. My cupboards my bill. Got it?”
“Okay, brown-eyes. You gonna let me go so I can have a snack, or what?”
“Depends. You gonna share some of that popcorn?”
“Depends. You gonna stop judgin’ me for my food preferences?”
His smirk stretched into a grin, and he chuckled as he reached down and filled his palm with one side of my ass. “Probably not.”
I couldn’t help but giggle, his flirty playfulness too hard to resist this late into the night. It didn’t stop me from muttering, “Asshole.”
“Yeah, well, at least I’m honest.”
My smile fell a little at his comment. Not because it was a lie, but because I knew it was true. I was learning he wasn’t a liar any more than he was an asshole.
“How ‘bout we start over?” I suggested, pulling myself even closer. “Hi.”
He touched his forehead to mine and replied, “Hey, baby.”
Two words. Three syllables wrapped in his low, rumbly voice, and my longing was awakened.
Pressing up onto my tiptoes, I sealed my mouth with his and took what I wanted. This time, he didn’t pull away so fast. Then again, maybe that was on account of my fingers in his hair, clutching at the thick, wavy strands.
Damn, but I loved to be kissed—and he was the best I ever had.
When he grabbed me at my hips and lifted me from my feet, I gasped in excitement. I thought he was getting ready to take things up a notch when he set me atop the counter—but rather than kiss me more, he nipped my bottom lip between his teeth and licked me before he pulled away.
“Sparky, you get me goin’, you won’t be eatin’. Put somethin’ in that stomach. Besides, we need to talk.”
“We do?” I asked skeptically.
He didn’t answer me as he reached for the bag of popcorn and my package of rice cakes, holding them up for me to choose. I took the rice cakes then reached for the peanut butter.
“I’ll let you start on that popcorn if you get me a spoon.”
He turned for his silverware drawer, extracted a spoon, then handed it to me. As I began to mix the oil settled at the top of the jar, he stowed my groceries in an empty cupboard—all but the white cheddar popcorn, which he opened as he leaned against the counter in the spot right next to me.
“Shadow got his final patch tonight. He’s no longer a probie. We’re celebratin’ tomorrow. Party’ll be at the clubhouse. I want you there.”
I paused mid-stir and shifted my eyes his direction.
I wasn’t exactly sure what all his invitation implied, but it didn’t seem insignificant.
We’d been out together in public, but never at the clubhouse.
At least, not on purpose. Not as a thing .
Furthermore, I’d successfully kept my distance from that place for years.
“I’ve got work tomorrow.”
My response was as automatic as they came.
Usually, it did the trick.
At present, not so much.
“Shadow will hit the chair to get his ink in the mornin’.
By noon, we’ll be cookin’ out at the clubhouse.
Party starts early and will last all night.
It’ll be a family thing for a few hours.
Brothers’ll come and go dependin’ on what they’ve got goin’ on.
Real fun’ll start when the sun goes down, like always.
All that to say, we’ll be eatin’ barbeque before the bar opens. I want you there.”
“Why?”
He quirked an eyebrow at me as he tossed a couple kernels of popcorn into his mouth. “Do I need a reason?”
“Yeah, actually. You’re askin’ as if it’s normal for me to show up at the clubhouse, like I’m some hang-around when we both know I’m not.”
He stopped chewing, looked me straight in the eye, and replied, “You and me. It’s been established.
Tomorrow afternoon, when I’m shootin’ the shit with a belly full of food and a beer in my hand and I want a woman in my lap, it’s gonna be your ass on my thigh.
When I said no one else, I meant it. Now, if I somehow misunderstood the conversation we had in this very kitchen less than twenty-four hours ago, you let me know, ‘cause I’m not above repeatin’ myself. ”
For a moment, silence fell between us as we stared at one another. His eyes were intense with the challenge reverberating from his words, while I felt suspended by the clarity I found in this particular moment.
I remembered the first morning he left me alone in his house, unafraid of what I would find. Later that night, after Lyla’s visit, I wondered what secrets he kept at the clubhouse. Now, he was all but demanding I show up and find out for myself.
He wasn’t hiding.
He was never hiding.
Still, I hesitated.
I didn’t shit where I ate. I didn’t regularly party with the Stallions. I kept my distance for a reason. Though, as of late, I was beginning to realize the distance I tried to keep between them and me might have been nothing more than an illusion.
All that aside, he was right. Less than twenty-four hours ago, we’d come to a mutual understanding of what this was.
Exclusive. I wasn’t wearing the label of his girlfriend or ol’ lady, but that didn’t mean our exclusivity didn’t come with expectations.
At every turn, he seemed to be exceeding mine before I could even define them.
Now, it was only fair I give a little in return.
“Fine. Okay,” I agreed before I went back to stirring my peanut butter. “I’ll stop by.”
“Good. Not exactly a date, but it’ll be a while before our next one. I gotta ride. Club business. Head out tomorrow afternoon soon as Wrangler’s kid-free. Suspect I’ll be gone at least a couple weeks.”
I nodded slowly as I pulled out a rice cake and began to spread a spoonful of peanut butter across the top, not quite sure what to do with this news.
I knew the guys had business dealings outside of the shop, the store, and the bar.
It didn’t go unnoticed anytime a Stallion or two, sometimes more, went missing from the compound for a few days.
Whatever trouble they managed to get themselves into, they always seemed to find their way home.
I never asked questions. It wasn’t any of my concern.
Now, in spite of the nature of our arrangement, it still didn’t seem like my place to ask. Furthermore, the less I asked of him the less he would ask of me. Everyone had secrets. He could have his so I could keep mine.
“Understood,” I finally said before taking a bite of my snack.
He nudged me with his elbow, and I looked over at him in question as I chewed.
Speaking through a smile, he said, “You’re pretty damn amenable today. If I’d have known all it took was buyin’ you a damn coffee maker, I would have done it sooner.”
I rolled my eyes and scoffed, “Shut up.”
He chuckled and it made me smile, in spite of myself.