Chapter 39
Kayla
I stab at my salad, trying not to smile too obviously as I read the text Roman just sent. It’s nothing special, just him letting me know he’s thinking of me, but the little heart emoji at the end has me grinning like a teenager with her first crush.
When I finally look up, Cassie is watching me with that knowing smirk that means I’m about to get teased mercilessly.
“So,” she says, dragging the word out as she takes a sip of her iced tea, “any exciting plans this weekend?”
I shrug, attempting nonchalance. “Nothing special. Just the usual.”
“The usual being a certain hot tattooed biker who has the audacity to not have any brothers?” Cassie raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow.
The heat that crawls up my neck betrays me before I can even formulate a denial. “Maybe.”
Cassie laughs, the sound bright and knowing. “God, look at your face! The sex must be phenomenal if he has you looking like that.”
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. “We’re not—” I stop, oddly embarrassed. “We haven’t actually slept together yet.”
Now it’s Cassie’s turn to freeze. “You’re kidding me. You’ve been seeing him almost every day for months and you’re telling me you two haven’t…” She makes a crude gesture with her hands.
“No,” I admit, setting down my fork. “We’re… taking things slow.”
The truth is, despite the fact that Roman comes over for dinner nearly every evening, despite the lingering glances and heated kisses, we haven’t crossed that final line.
It’s as if we’re both afraid that rushing things might break this fragile new thing we’re building.
Or maybe it’s just Roman being cautious, afraid to push me away if he moves too fast after everything that happened.
“Well, damn,” Cassie says, looking genuinely surprised. “I would’ve bet good money that you two were burning up the sheets.”
I take a sip of water, trying to cool the flush I can feel spreading across my cheeks.
It’s true Roman and I spend almost every day together.
The irony isn’t lost on me that after moving back into my house, the thing I missed most was the noise and energy of the clubhouse.
The first few nights alone were almost unbearable; the silence pressed in, and every creak and groan of the house sent my heart racing.
My cats were thrilled to have their territory back, but even their comforting weight on my bed at night couldn’t chase away the lingering feeling of isolation.
And so I asked Roman if he’d come over for dinner again.
Just to have another presence in the house, to chase away the quiet.
But one dinner turned into another, and another, until it became an unspoken expectation.
He comes over almost every evening now, sometimes bringing takeout, sometimes cooking for me, sometimes just sitting at my kitchen counter keeping me company while I chop vegetables.
“We’re rebuilding,” I tell Cassie, trying to find the words to explain something I barely understand myself. “This isn’t like before. We’re not the same people we were.”
Cassie’s teasing expression softens. “That’s probably a good thing, right? I mean, from what little you’ve told me about your marriage…”
I nod, pushing a cherry tomato around my plate.
“It’s different now. Better, I think.” I look up, meeting her curious gaze.
“Roman doesn’t shut me out anymore. He tells me about his day, about what’s happening at the club.
If there’s something he can’t talk about, he says so, explains why instead of just going silent or changing the subject. ”
The change in Roman is something I’m still getting used to.
The man who once kept every thought and feeling locked behind an impenetrable wall now sits at my kitchen table and talks to me about everything that is happening in his world.
Club politics, his worries about Dragon, his plans to buy out his boss and expand the tattoo shop he is currently working at.
“And if he has to miss dinner because of club stuff, he actually calls me. Tells me why. Apologizes.” I smile, still a little amazed by this development. “Last week, he was running late, and he texted me six times with updates.”
Cassie grins. “Now that’s growth.”
“It is,” I agree. “And it’s not just him. I’m different too. I speak up now when something bothers me. I don’t just let things slide to keep the peace.”
The old Kayla would have never pushed back against Roman’s protective instincts, was content to be his treasured Sunshine, kept safe and sheltered from the harsher realities of his world. The new Kayla refuses to be sheltered and demands to be treated as an equal partner.
“I’ve been spending time at the clubhouse too,” I add. “Roman invites me to all the club events now. I’ve gotten close with Maddie and some of the other old ladies.”
“Wait, they’re actually called ‘old ladies’? That’s kind of degrading, isn’t it?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s just what they call the wives and serious girlfriends. And trust me, none of those women would put up with being degraded. They’re some of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”
It still amazes me sometimes how quickly I’ve been accepted into that inner circle. Maddie treats me like we’ve been friends for years, and Gigi fusses over me like I’m another granddaughter.
“So what are you now?” Cassie asks, tilting her head. “Ex-wife? Friend with potential? Girlfriend?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We haven’t really labeled it.
We’re just… us. We’re building something new, something stronger than what we had before.
” I take a sip of water, considering my next words.
“When we were married, I was his Sunshine. His precious thing to protect. Now we’re partners.
When we disagree, we talk it out instead of him bulldozing me and me letting him. ”
Cassie studies me for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “You seem good, Kayla. Better than I’ve seen you in a long time.” Her voice softens. “How are you doing, really? After everything that happened?”
I smile, appreciating her concern. “I’m keeping my therapist busy.
She’s probably going to be able to buy a vacation home next year, courtesy of everything that happened.
” I try to keep my tone light, but we both know it’s not entirely a joke.
“But I’m okay. It gets easier every day. I’m determined to keep moving forward.”
“Good for you,” Cassie says, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand briefly. She hesitates, then adds, “You know, you never did tell me exactly what happened with Todd. Just that things didn’t work out.”
A flash of anger heats my blood at the mention of his name, but it fades quickly, leaving behind only a dull ache of betrayal. “He wasn’t who I thought he was,” I say simply.
Cassie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push further, and I’m grateful. Some wounds are still too fresh to probe, even with friends.
* * *
I smooth my hands over the red fabric of my dress, watching how it clings to my curves in the mirror. Roman’s text earlier was cryptic:
Dress in something fancy. I’m taking you out tonight.
No other details, just that simple instruction that has left me both curious and slightly nervous.
I’ve spent the last hour trying to decide what “fancy” means to a man who lives in jeans and leather, and finally settled on this dress; dark red, form-fitting, with a neckline that dips just low enough to be interesting without being scandalous.
The doorbell rings, sending a flutter through my stomach. I slip on my heels, grab my small clutch, and make my way downstairs, careful not to trip in my haste. Taking a deep breath, I pull open the door.
And promptly forget how to breathe.
Roman stands on my front steps, but not the Roman I know.
This Roman is wearing a tailored black suit that fits him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and trim waist. The crisp white shirt beneath is open at the collar, just enough to show a hint of the tattoos that climb up his neck.
His hair is neatly combed, his beard trimmed.
He looks dangerous and sophisticated and so unbearably handsome that I’m tempted to say the hell with our date and drag him straight upstairs.
“Wow,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly breathless.
A slow smile spreads across his face, his blue eyes darkening as they travel from my face down to my feet and back up again. “You can say that again, Sunshine. You look absolutely beautiful.”
I step outside, pulling the door closed behind me. “What’s the occasion? You didn’t tell me where we’re going.”
Roman shrugs, drawing my eyes to his broad shoulders nicely outlined by his suit jacket. “No occasion. I just wanted to take you out on a proper date. I can never make up for what happened two years ago, but I thought we might make new memories together.” He offers me his arm. “Is that okay?”
“More than okay,” I say, linking my arm with his, unable to hide how ridiculously touched I am by this gesture. “Although I am amazed that you’re willingly wearing a ‘monkey suit’.” I can’t help gently teasing him.
His laugh is low and warm, sending a shiver down my spine. “For you, Sunshine, I’d do anything.” The way he says it, so simple and direct, makes my heart skip a beat. “Even suffer through formal wear.”
He leads me to his truck and helps me into the passenger seat, his hand warm and steady at my waist.
The restaurant he takes me to is upscale without being pretentious, a renovated historic building with exposed brick walls, soft lighting, and tables spaced far enough apart for privacy.
The host shows us to a secluded corner table, and Roman pulls out my chair before taking his own seat across from me.
“This is… unexpected,” I say as a server pours water into our glasses.
Roman’s eyes meet mine over the flickering candle between us. “Good unexpected, I hope?”