22. Willow #3
“I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but it was never a priority with everything that was going on.
I also never found something that I loved so much that I wanted to get it on my body for the rest of my life,” I tell him as I put the serving dishes on the island.
If there is only the three of us, we can just eat in the kitchen, which is what I usually do, anyways.
“If you want to get one done, I’ll ask one of the Brothers, and he can show me so I can do yours. It will also give me time to figure out a piece for you,” he replies like it is as easy as filling in a coloring book.
“I feel like you have to train for a while to do that. I can just go to the person that does yours. They look good.” I try to give him an out so he doesn’t have to learn how to do an entirely different kind of art for me.
I mean, he already has a business and is part of an MC—he can’t have that much spare time.
At that moment, Grey walks into the kitchen.
“Dinner is done. Grab a plate and help yourselves. I was already expecting leftovers, but I don’t want this much,” I say as I gesture to the giant pan of lasagna that I made.
We make our plates and sit down. An uncomfortable silence falls over us, but we are able to distract ourselves with the food.
The quiet is starting to drive me crazy, so I decide to suck it up and break it when I look up to see Knox and Grey giving each other death glares.
“What are your plans for your few weeks off besides babysitting?” I say, looking in Grey’s direction.
I know we don’t get along, but I would like to try to make it less awkward between us for the next two weeks.
Grey looks confused that I spoke to him first, but recovers and looks down at his plate, cutting up his lasagna as he replies in a rough tone, “Besides this, working out and target practice. Maybe read a book or two.” I’m shocked that he actually gave me a straight answer, but I keep it going.
It’s possible that he sees that it would be easier if we were civil.
“What kind of books?” I ask in a casual tone. I look down at my own plate. Maybe if there is no eye contact, he won’t get scared and turn into a giant asshole again. I think I saw something like that on the nature channel, or Dateline. I can’t remember.
“Mostly biographies,” he grunts out. It’s only two words, but a good number of syllables!
I’m kicking ass at this “being pleasant” thing.
I don’t want to push it, so I just leave him to eat.
The rest of dinner is more small talk with Knox, and when they finish their two helpings, they both help me clean up the kitchen.
When we finish, I ask both of them if they want a tour.
Knox agrees, but Grey grunts that he already saw everything when they cleared the house the other day and walks to his room with his signature, “Thanks for the food.”
I look at Knox and ask, “So, you already know the bottom level pretty much. Want to see the garage?”
“Sure,” he says as he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.
I tense for a moment from shock, but then decide to go with it.
I have no idea if he is serious about wanting to be with me.
He could think this is going to be casual, but too bad for him, I am way past the point in my life that I would think about doing casual.
We will have to talk about that before this goes further.
I lead him to the garage and open the side door. Stepping in, I turn on the lights, and he lets out a low whistle. He walks over to where my bike is, looking her over, and says, “Did you do the work on her?”
“Yup, I only really take her out for close jobs. If I am riding around town, I go for my baby,” I say as I walk up to my car and lean against her, crossing my legs in front of me so I can wait while he looks around.
When he’s done checking out my little garage-workshop, he saunters over to me and gives my crossed feet a light tap with his boot.
I uncross them, thinking that he is ready to see the rest of the house, but instead, he wedges himself between them to stand in front of me.
The height difference is even bigger now that I’m leaning against the car.
He bends down and cups my cheeks in his hands, lowering his face to mine, turning his head slightly, his lips hovering over mine.
He pauses, and the tension is so suffocating, I’m having a hard time taking a full breath.
I realize that he is waiting for me to go the rest of the way or back up, giving me the choice.
After a half a second of thought, I go for it.
I lean in the rest of the way until our lips collide.
It starts off slow and sensual, but starts to build into hard and passionate.
I feel his tongue nudge my lips, asking for entrance.
I have absolutely no fucking idea what I am doing, but I decide to open my mouth and let him deepen the kiss.
Next thing I know, my arms are wrapped around his neck, and he is grabbing me by the ass, lifting me up until my legs wrap around his waist.
I’m not sure how long we are like this, but he eventually ends the kiss and leans his forehead against mine. We are both breathing hard as he says, “I think we should end the tour now. I don’t think you are ready for anything more tonight.”
I think about it, waiting for my racing heart and breathing to slow down, and realize he is right.
I give a small nod and release my legs from around his waist as he lowers me down, but keeps his hands securely on my ass.
When my feet hit the floor, I realize what just happened, and I feel the blush creeping up my face as I look at the ground.
I’m not freaking out that it happened, but I’m embarrassed about how I pretty much jumped on him the first chance that I got.
Does that make me like one of the club girls? Does he think about me that way now?
When he sees me looking at the ground, he cups my face in his hands again, making me look up at him and says, “No. Whatever you’re thinking, stop.
That didn’t have to change anything that you don’t want to.
We are taking it slow. I don’t want you to regret or feel weird about anything that happens between us, okay?
” he says in a soft, but serious voice. Looking into his dark eyes, I can see that he means it.
I smile at him, nodding again because apparently, I can’t form words anymore.
He bends down and gives me one more soft, quick kiss, and we start walking back to the house. I turn off the lights and lock the doors as we pass them, and he watches me do it, probably to double check that they are locked.
He then takes my hand again, walks me to my bedroom door, kisses me lightly on the forehead, and says, “Goodnight.”
I close my door and lean against it, slowly sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. What the fuck did I just get myself into?