Chapter Thirteen
Hazel
By Monday night, I was officially out of things to unpack.
There were still two boxes shoved into the corner of the spare bedroom, but I’d decided those didn’t count. One was full of winter clothes, and considering it had been hotter than hell all day, I wasn’t touching anything involving sweaters.
The other was labeled MISC. That box could stay closed forever.
If I hadn’t needed anything inside it after almost two weeks, whatever was in there clearly wasn’t important.
I stood in the kitchen with my hands braced against the edge of the sink and looked around. Everything finally had a place.
Yesterday and today had been my first two days off since starting at Bing’s, and I’d spent most of them puttering around the house.
There really wasn’t another word for it. I’d moved things, then moved them again.
Hung pictures. Decided one was crooked. Fixed it, then decided it had looked better crooked.
Put a little table beside the front door. Moved the little table because I immediately started running into it every time I walked past.
I’d gone grocery shopping. Done laundry. Cleaned the bathroom even though I’d cleaned it four days ago.
I was officially becoming a homeowner. Apparently, it involved a lot of wiping things down.
I pulled the plug from the kitchen sink and watched the water drain. Dinner had been a grilled chicken breast, salad, and a baked potato. Nothing exciting, but I’d cooked it in my kitchen and eaten it at my table, so that counted for something.
I grabbed the dish towel and dried my hands.
The window over the sink was open, but there wasn’t much of a breeze coming through.
Wisconsin was supposed to be cold.
That was what everyone said.
Snow. Freezing temperatures. People driving on lakes like that was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.
Nobody had warned me that summer apparently showed up pissed off.
I’d spent most of the day in a pair of short denim shorts and a thin tank top that barely reached the waistband. Anything more would’ve been unnecessary.
I tossed the towel onto the counter and opened the refrigerator.
A wine cooler sat on the top shelf waiting for me. I grabbed it and twisted off the cap.
There wasn’t much left to do tonight. Nothing I wanted to do, anyway.
I could watch television, read, go to bed ridiculously early, or sit outside for a while.
Outside won.
I walked through the living room and pushed open the front door. The heat hadn’t completely disappeared, but it was better than it had been a couple hours ago.
I stepped onto the porch. Quiet.
I sank into the chair I’d put on the porch a few days ago and stretched my legs out in front of me. The sun was dropping behind the trees and I took a drink. “Not bad.”
No one answered, which was probably good.
If the trees started talking back, I’d officially been alone too long.
I smiled and settled deeper into the chair.
This was nice.
I’d spent the last nights at Bing’s surrounded by people, music, beer bottles, orders being shouted across the bar, and Kori and Crystal talking nonstop.
I’d liked it. Loved it, actually, but this was nice too.
Nothing needed me. Nobody wanted another round. Nobody needed their check split four different ways after they’d spent two hours ordering everything together.
Just me, my house, a cold drink, and a sunset.
Pink’s screen door slammed.
I turned my head. “Hey, Pi—” The rest died.
It wasn’t Pink because Bone stepped out onto her porch.
Oh.
Well.
Hello.
He pulled the door shut behind him and headed down the steps.
Jeans. Black T-shirt. Boots. No cut tonight.
His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it, and the setting sun caught the tattoos running down his arms.
He reached the bottom step, then turned his head toward me.
He stopped.
I stopped, not that I’d been moving.
I suddenly became very aware of the fact that I was wearing about six inches of denim and a tank top that had never been intended for public viewing.
It was a house shirt. An I’m not seeing anybody tonight shirt. Apparently the universe hadn’t gotten the memo.
His gaze came back to my face.
This was ridiculous.
We’d talked plenty. Flirted. Spent ten minutes alone behind Bing’s Friday night practically daring each other to do something. Yet somehow seeing him standing in Pink’s yard while I sat on my porch half-dressed had apparently robbed both of us of our ability to speak.
I broke first. “Can I get that ride tonight?” The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to grab them out of the air.
What the hell? That had sounded a lot more eager than I’d intended.
Bone’s mouth slowly curved. Not a smile.
That damn smirk.
The one that immediately made me remember standing against the brick wall behind Bing’s. His eyes dipped over me again. “Tonight?”
I lifted one shoulder. “You said sometime.”
“I did.”
“And I’m not doing anything.”
Bone looked toward his motorcycle parked in Pink’s driveway. For one stupid second, I thought he was going to say yes.
I was already imagining going inside to put on actual pants, then his eyes came back to me. “Gonna have to take a raincheck.”
Oh. “Okay.”
“I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Sure.” I took another drink. Why did my face suddenly feel approximately eight thousand degrees? It shouldn’t have been embarrassing.
It felt like I’d raised my hand and announced to the entire state of Wisconsin that I wanted to spend time with Bone and he’d responded with a polite, no thanks.
Wonderful.
“Working tomorrow?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“What time?”
“Until close.”
He nodded once. “All right.”
That was apparently it.
I waited. Bone didn’t say anything else. Neither did I because I’d officially reached my embarrassment limit for the evening.
He started toward his bike. “I’ll see you around, Hazel.”
“Yep.” Yep? That was what I came up with? Yep. Excellent work.
Bone walked to his motorcycle and I took another drink, pretending I was extremely interested in the trees across the road.
The bike started. Bone backed out of Pink’s driveway, and for a second, I thought he might look over again.
He didn’t. He turned toward the dead end and headed down the road.
The sound of the engine followed him until eventually it faded into the distance.
I stared after him and then I let my head fall back against the chair.
“Stupid.” I closed my eyes.
Why had I asked?
I could’ve said hello. Asked how he was. Made some stupid joke. Anything.
Instead, I’d practically jumped off the porch yelling, “Take me now, Bone.”
Okay. Maybe it hadn’t been that bad, but it felt that bad.
I lifted the wine cooler and took a longer drink.
Friday night had seemed pretty clear. At least I’d thought it had.
Bone had followed me outside.
He’d admitted he’d wanted to talk to me alone. He’d told me he was checking me out. He’d said he didn’t plan on stopping. Then he’d invited me to go for a ride.
I’d thought we’d been... What?
Flirting? Obviously.
Interested? I’d thought so.
There had definitely been a pull between us. I could feel it every time he looked at me. Hell, I’d felt it the first day I’d met him.
Not some ridiculous love-at-first-sight thing. Nothing like that.
Bone was just a man I noticed. A lot.
When he was around, I knew where he was. When he looked at me, I felt it. When he got close, I wanted him closer.
Maybe I’d read more into Friday night than I should have. Maybe Bone was just like that.
Flirty.
Confident.
The kind of man who could stand six inches away from a woman, look at her mouth, and make her think he was about to kiss her without having any intention of actually doing it.
He probably had plenty of practice.
I’d seen him at Bing’s. Women noticed him.
Hell, women noticed all the Grave Prowlers. Eight bikers walking into a crowded bar wasn’t exactly subtle.
Bone probably never had to work very hard to get a woman’s attention. Maybe flirting with me didn’t mean shit.
That possibility shouldn’t have bothered me. We barely knew each other. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.
I’d moved here to start over, not immediately attach myself to the first attractive man I met.
Especially not one named Bone who happened to be the president of a motorcycle club. That sounded like the beginning of several questionable decisions.
I smiled despite myself. Still, I’d thought he wanted me.
Whatever. I wasn’t going to sit here dissecting every conversation we’d had.
If Bone wanted something, he could make that clear. If he didn’t, that was fine too.
I took another drink and stretched my legs out.
I wasn’t chasing him.