Chapter Ten
Bob
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I was warm. The second was that I had a handful of Ramona.
I opened my eyes slowly and stared at the dark curtains across the room while my brain caught up with the rest of me. My arm was wrapped around her waist, my hand spread over her stomach, and she was tucked against me from chest to knee.
Well, fuck. I didn’t remember her coming into the room.
I remembered leaving the common room after Church. I remembered Ramona telling me I needed to rest, and I definitely remembered telling her maybe she needed a nap too.
After that, nothing.
I’d barely gotten myself out of the wheelchair and into bed before I’d passed the fuck out.
And it looks like Ramona had taken me up on my offer.
I looked down to see her hand was resting over mine. That made something low in my stomach tighten.
She hadn’t just climbed into bed with me. At some point, I’d pulled her against me, and instead of moving away, she’d put her hand over mine and stayed.
I should probably move. That was the smart thing to do. Except I wasn’t feeling particularly smart.
I stayed exactly where I was.
Ramona’s hair was spread across the pillow in front of me, and I could smell whatever shampoo she used. Something sweet I couldn’t name. Her back was pressed against my chest, and every time she breathed, her body moved slightly against mine.
I’d spent twenty fucking years thinking of this woman as Clint’s little sister.
That had officially gone straight to hell.
Nothing about the woman in my arms felt like anybody’s little sister.
I shifted my head on the pillow and immediately regretted it when Ramona moved with me.
Her ass pressed tighter against me.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I closed my eyes and tried to stop myself from reacting to her lush body pressed against me. My body might’ve been recovering from almost bleeding to death, but evidently, certain parts of me were doing just fucking fine.
Ramona moved again.
Her fingers shifted over mine. I froze when she went still.
Neither one of us said anything.
I knew she was awake. She knew I was awake. And neither one of us moved.
After another few seconds, Ramona whispered, “Bob?”
“Yeah.”
Her body relaxed slightly at the sound of my voice. “You awake?”
“No.”
She laughed softly. I felt it against my chest. “You’re talking.”
“Could be doing it in my sleep,” I suggested.
She shifted her head enough to look back at me. I lifted mine from the pillow so I could see her better. Her hair was a mess. There was a faint crease across one cheek from the pillow, and her eyes were still heavy from sleep.
She looked fucking beautiful.
“You came in here,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You invited me.”
“I did.”
“Then why are you saying it like I broke into your room?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You had a tone.”
“I just woke up.”
“You still had a tone.” Ramona’s gaze dropped to my mouth.
I hadn’t wanted to look too closely at it when I could barely stand without getting winded. I’d had enough shit happening without adding wanting Ramona to the list.
But lying here with her tucked against me made pretending pretty fucking pointless. Especially when she was looking at my mouth.
My thumb moved before I thought about it, brushing once over the soft fabric covering her stomach.
Ramona’s eyes lifted back to mine.
“You stayed,” I said.
Her lips parted slightly. “I fell asleep.”
“Not what I meant.”
She knew it.
I saw it in her face.
Her hand was still covering mine. “You grabbed me,” she whispered.
I frowned. “What?”
“When I got into bed, I was on the other side.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “You rolled over, grabbed me, and pulled me against you.”
“I did?”
“You were asleep.”
I looked down at where my arm was wrapped around her. “Huh.”
“Huh?” she repeated.
“What do you want me to say?” Unconscious me knew what I wanted. Now admitting it when I was awake was a little more daunting.
“I don’t know. Maybe sorry?”
“You didn’t want me to do it?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not sorry.” I sure the hell wasn’t.
She tried to turn away, but I tightened my arm before she could.
“Bob.” Her voice was different now. Quieter.
I loosened my arm enough that she could move if she wanted. She didn’t. Instead, Ramona rolled onto her back.
My arm slid away from her waist as I gave her room. She turned her head on the pillow until she was looking directly at me.
We were close. Really fucking close. A few inches separated our faces, and I could see the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. The faint pink in her cheeks. The way she pressed her lips together and then let them part again.
I lifted my hand and then stopped.
For some reason, touching her face felt like a bigger fucking deal than having my arm wrapped around her stomach.
“Can I?” I asked.
Ramona looked at my hand and then back at me. “Yeah.”
I brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek. That was it. Just my fingers against her skin, but Ramona’s breath caught.
I slid my hand into her hair and rested it lightly against the side of her neck.
Her eyes stayed on mine. “You still think of me as Ashland?” I asked.
The question came out before I could stop it.
Ramona blinked. “Sometimes.”
I didn’t know why that answer bothered me.
Maybe because Ashland belonged to twenty years ago. He was the kid who’d hung around with Clint. The kid who had walked into a bad situation and done the only thing he could think to do.
Bob was who I was now.
Ramona studied my face. “Mostly Bob,” she whispered.
“Good.”
Her mouth curved. “You really hated your name, huh? Why the heck did you end up with Bob?”
I groaned. “Don’t ask.”
“Oh,” she laughed. “I am certainly asking. Spill it.”
I shook my head, but knew if I didn’t tell her now, she would just keep bugging me. “Kiddie pool.”
She blinked. “Uh, what?”
“I got drunk when I was prospecting and passed out in a kiddie pool. Apparently, I was bobbing around.”
Ramona stared at me for half a second before she burst out laughing.
“And you better not spread that around, doll.”
She held up her hand, still laughing. “My lips are sealed.”
“They better be.”
Her smile faded.
My thumb brushed lightly along her jaw. “I want you to know me.”
Something changed in her eyes. “I think I’m starting to.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Neither of us moved.
I could hear voices somewhere beyond the room. Somebody laughed in the common room. A door opened and closed.
None of it mattered.
Ramona’s gaze dropped to my mouth again.
That was twice.
I wasn’t imagining this.
“You keep doing that,” I murmured.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at my mouth.”
Her eyes shot back to mine. “I am not.”
“You are.”
“I was looking at your scar.”
“My scar isn’t on my lips.”
“Close enough.”
“Not really.”
Her cheeks turned pink. Fuck, that was cute.
I hadn’t expected Ramona to be shy about anything.
She’d driven across multiple states by herself in an RV that was practically held together by spite.
She’d walked into a clubhouse full of bikers and demanded to know where I was.
She’d argued with Prime, Skull, and probably half the club since she’d gotten here.
But right now?
She looked nervous. So was I.
I’d kissed plenty of women. I’d never been nervous about it.
But this was Ramona.
There were twenty years sitting between us, even if there had never been anything romantic back then. There was Clint. There was the reason she’d come here. There was the fact that two days ago I’d been lying in a hospital bed.
And there was the simple truth that once I kissed her, this changed. I didn’t want to pretend it wouldn’t. “Ramona.”
“What?”
“I want to kiss you.”
Her eyes widened just slightly.
I waited.
Her hand moved up and rested against my chest. “Okay.” That one word hit harder than it should have.
I leaned closer. Slowly.
Slow enough that she had plenty of time to change her mind. She didn’t.
Her eyes closed right before my mouth touched hers.
The first kiss was barely a kiss. Just my lips against hers. Soft and careful.
I wasn’t sure if I was being careful because of her or because my fucking throat still reminded me every few minutes that I’d almost died.
Maybe both.
I pulled back an inch and Ramona opened her eyes.
“That was timid,” she whispered.
I frowned. “Timid?”
“A little.”
“Are you complaining?”
“No.” Her fingers curled into my shirt. “Just surprised.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Her gaze dropped to my mouth again. “You don’t seem like a timid kisser.”
I almost laughed. Instead, I leaned closer. “Maybe I was making sure you wanted me to kiss you.”
Ramona swallowed. “I wanted you to kiss me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
I kissed her again. There wasn’t anything timid about the second one.
Ramona made a soft sound against my mouth as my hand slid deeper into her hair. Her fingers tightened in the front of my shirt, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
That was all the encouragement I needed.
The kiss deepened.
Her lips parted beneath mine, and the careful distance we’d kept between us disappeared.
I shifted closer, ignoring the pull of tired muscles as Ramona rolled fully toward me. Her hand moved from my chest to my shoulder, then into my hair.
Fuck. I hadn’t expected this.
Or maybe I had. Maybe I’d been expecting it from the second I’d opened my eyes and realized she was still in my arms.
Ramona kissed me like she’d stopped thinking about whether she should. I understood that feeling.
My hand slid from her hair down her back and settled at her waist, pulling her closer.
She came willingly.
Her leg moved between mine as the kiss turned hotter, and every thought in my head disappeared except Ramona.
Her mouth. Her body against mine. Her fingers sliding through my hair.
I kissed her harder.
Ramona answered with the same energy, and I forgot that I was supposed to be recovering from anything.
Until my throat reminded me.
A sharp ache pulled through it when I shifted wrong.
I broke the kiss and sucked in a breath.
Ramona immediately went still. “Shit.” Her hand moved from my hair toward my neck but stopped before touching the scar. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“Bob.”
“You didn’t.”
Her eyes searched mine.
“My throat,” I admitted. “Moved wrong.”
She started pulling away, but I tightened my hand at her waist. “Where are you going?”
“You just said your throat hurts.”
“Didn’t say I wanted you to leave.”
“You need to rest.”
“I was resting.”
“You were kissing me.”
“Felt pretty fucking relaxing.”
Ramona stared at me, then she laughed. That soft laugh I’d already decided I liked way too much. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Come here.”
“Bob.”
“Ramona.”
Her eyes narrowed and I waited.
She lasted about two seconds before moving closer again.
This time I didn’t immediately kiss her. I brushed my thumb over her cheek and looked at her.
“What?” she whispered.
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I can.”
Her smile came slowly. “You’ve gotten smoother with age, Ashland.”
I groaned.
She laughed again.
“Don’t fucking call me that while I’m trying to kiss you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m gonna start thinking about Clint.”
That killed her laughter immediately. “Oh, God.”
“Exactly.”
“I take it back.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Bob. Bobby. Bobert.”
Laughter erupted between us, and I pressed her against me. “Let’s just stick with Bob, doll. I think we can leave Bobert out of this.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just trying to banish any thought of Clint out of this room.”
I kissed her before she could say anything else. Ramona smiled against my mouth for half a second before kissing me back.
This one wasn’t frantic. It was slower than the last one but no less heated.
My hand stayed at her waist. Hers rested against my chest.
I could’ve stayed there a long fucking time.
Unfortunately, my body had other ideas.
Fatigue hit me fast. One second I was kissing Ramona and thinking about how much I liked having her in my bed. The next, my muscles felt heavy and my breathing was a little too hard for a man who hadn’t done anything but kiss a woman.
I pulled back. Ramona’s eyes opened. Her lips were pink from kissing me and I really wanted to kiss her again.
Instead, I dropped my head onto the pillow.
She watched me for a second. “You’re tired.”
“Don’t ruin this,” I grunted.
“I’m not ruining anything.”
“You’re about to tell me I need another nap.”
“You are currently taking a nap.”
“Was.”
“Still are.”
I looked at her.
She smiled, then her expression softened. That was the look I was starting to recognize. The one where she was worried about me but trying not to make a big fucking production out of it.
I liked that she didn’t make me feel helpless.
I hated that she had a reason to worry.
“I’m good,” I told her.
“I know.”
I waited for the argument.
It didn’t come.
Instead, Ramona settled back onto the pillow beside me.
“But you’re still tired,” she added.
“Yeah.”
“Then sleep.”
I reached for her before she could roll away.
She looked down at my arm around her waist. “You planning on manhandling me in your sleep again?”
“Probably.”
“At least you’re honest.”
I pulled her closer. Ramona settled against me, her head tucked beneath my chin.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. That felt almost more intimate than everything we’d just done.
I stared at the curtains.
Ramona traced one finger absently over my shirt. “Bob?”
“Yeah?”
“That wasn’t weird.”
I looked down at her. “What wasn’t?”
“The kiss.”
“Which one?”
Her head lifted and I smiled. She slapped her palm lightly against my chest. “Asshole.”
I caught her hand and held it there. “No,” I said. Her smile faded slightly. “It wasn’t weird.”
Her eyes stayed on mine. “Good.”
“Good.”
She put her head back against my chest. “Then that means we can do it again, right?
I closed my eyes. “Fucking better.”
Her body relaxed into mine, and I couldn’t stop the thought that this was fucking perfect.
I should’ve probably been thinking about Bernice. About the words I’d remembered. About whatever Anchor and the guys were going to do with that information. I should’ve been thinking about Ramona’s old boss and the fact that somebody had followed her, broken into her RV twice, and slashed her tire.
There were about a hundred things I should’ve been thinking about. Instead, I was thinking about Ramona’s mouth.
“You okay?” she mumbled against my chest.
“Go to sleep, doll.”
She huffed. A few seconds later, she settled closer, and I tightened my arm around her.
Yeah, I could get used to this. That thought should’ve scared the shit out of me.
It didn’t.