Chapter Three #2
Rancor filled the doorway. He was an imposing figure on the best of days.
Probably because he didn’t really talk much.
The whole dark, mysterious vibe he had going on worked for him when it might have made other men seem aloof.
The dark gray T-shirt he wore strained against his chest, shoulders, and arms. I was certain the man bought his shirts two sizes too small intentionally.
His worn jeans and heavy motorcycle boots completed the look.
And, Lord, the way his gaze seemed to devour me every time he looked at me turned me on way more than it should have.
But Goddamnit, the man was wearing down my defenses with nothing more than good manners and persistence.
He always made sure to see me every time he knew I was going to be here.
Hannah said he asked her every single day if she’d put in a grocery order.
She’d told me to put him out of his misery and give him my phone number already, but I hadn’t worked up the nerve yet.
Penny glanced between us, a smile playing at her lips. “Well, would you look at that timing.” She picked up her coffee mug and shot me a look that spoke volumes. I saw amusement and a healthy dose of encouragement. “I just remembered I need to check on something for the girls.”
“Yep.” Hanna grinned. “I promised to help.
Penny waved as she and Hanna left. “You two… catch up.”
She squeezed my arm as she passed, then patted Rancor’s shoulder. He stepped aside to let her through, then returned to filling the doorway.
And there we were. Alone.
“Hi,” I said, the word coming out softer than I intended.
Why I suddenly felt shy was beyond me. I wasn’t one to be coy or play hard to get.
If I wanted something, I went after it and wasn’t ashamed.
But everything about Rancor felt different.
I had genuine affection for him. I liked being around him.
Despite his size and appearance, the man gave off this soothing vibe I couldn’t explain.
But not all the time. I’d seen him outside as I pulled inside the compound.
I could always tell the instant he saw me because his whole body seemed to lighten.
He stood straighter with his shoulders back proudly.
When he did that, Rancor was truly a sight to behold.
“You came back,” he said, the words hanging in the quiet kitchen. He always made the same simple statement. I thought maybe he felt as unsure of himself as I did. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who thought whatever we had between us was different.
I smiled, unable to help myself. “Third week running.”
He moved into the room with slow, deliberate steps. “Finished for the day?” he asked, stopping closer than strictly necessary but not close enough to touch. I found myself wanting to lean into him to close the gap between us.
“Yeah.” I shifted my weight, suddenly very aware of my body and how my pussy clenched at the thought of reaching out to touch him. “Saved you guys for last.”
His gaze remained steady on mine. “I’ll walk you out.”
Not a question. Not quite an order either but pretty close. I had to smile at his gruff exterior. As with a lot of these guys, I suspected Rancor was a marshmallow on the inside.
“Thanks,” I said, gathering my keys from the counter. We moved through the kitchen and out the door into the late afternoon light. The compound hummed with distant activity off in the distance.
Rancor walked beside me, close enough that occasionally our arms brushed. Each touch sent electricity skittering across my skin. He didn’t speak, and surprisingly, I found the silence comfortable. When we reached my car, I turned to face him, leaning back against the driver’s door.
“Why do you keep coming back?” His voice was low, rough at the edges. The question came without preamble, direct in a way that startled me.
I blinked up at him. “To deliver your groceries?”
“Here.” He gestured vaguely at the compound around us. “Other drivers won’t.”
I considered lying, giving some bland answer about customer service or professionalism.
But standing there, with his dark eyes studying me so intently, I couldn’t bring myself to be anything but honest. “The money,” I admitted.
“The tips are good. Really good.” I paused, heart hammering against my ribs as I added, “And… I might like seeing you, too.”
The words hung between us, more revealing than I’d intended. My cheeks heated, but I didn’t look away. Something shifted in his expression, a subtle softening around his eyes and a slight parting of his lips as he processed what I’d said.
“Yeah?” The single word held a vulnerability I hadn’t expected from him. Somehow, that made me feel a little better about my admission.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded.
Rancor took a slow, careful step closer to me.
My breath caught as he moved deliberately into my space, giving me time to retreat if I wanted.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.
He leaned in slowly, his face coming toward mine.
But instead of the kiss I expected, he dipped his head to the curve where my neck met my shoulder.
I felt his breath first, warm against my skin, then the unmistakable sensation of him inhaling deeply, taking in my scent.
The intimacy of the gesture froze me in place. No one had ever done that before. Smelled me with such deliberate intent. It should have been strange. Should have made me uncomfortable. Instead, heat bloomed low in my belly, spreading outward until my fingertips tingled with it.
His beard brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, the unexpected tickle making me giggle.
The sound surprised both of us. His lips curved against my skin in what felt like a smile, and he drew back enough for me to see his face.
Sure enough, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth, transforming his features.
Making him look younger, somehow. Less burdened. My heart stuttered at the sight.
I didn’t think about what I did next. Didn’t plan it or weigh the consequences.
I simply acted on the pull I’d felt since the first moment I saw him.
My arms moved up around his neck, fingers finding the warm skin above the collar of his T-shirt.
I pressed myself against the solid wall of his chest and rose up on my toes.
His hands settled just above my waist, large and warm through my shirt. He held me like I was something precious, something that might break under too much pressure. I pulled him down toward me, our faces inches apart, giving him time to pull away.
He didn’t.
Our lips met in a kiss that started gentle and tentative.
His lips were warmer than I expected, softer.
He tasted faintly of coffee and something distinctly his own.
My fingers curled against the nape of his neck, into the short bristle of hair there, and I felt rather than heard the low, contented groan rumbling through his chest.
The kiss deepened, his grip tightened at my waist, drawing me closer, while I explored the contours of his shoulders, the strong column of his neck.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Rancor pressed his forehead against mine.
Our breaths mingled in the small space between us.
His eyes, so dark and unreadable from a distance, revealed flecks of amber among the brown, and a warmth I hadn’t expected.
“Cora,” he said, just my name, but it carried weight. Like he was testing how it felt to say.
“Rancor,” I whispered back, the name strange and perfect all at once.
“Marcus,” he said softly. I pulled back slightly, confused. He growled and tightened his grip around me. “Marcus Wheeler. My name.”
I smiled up at him. “Would you prefer I call you by your first name?”
He shook his head. “Ain’t that man anymore. Just wanted you to know.” He lifted his chin to rest on top of my head. He actually trembled as he held me. I got the impression this was something important to him, but I had no idea why.
We stayed like that until reality reasserted itself in the form of distant laughter from somewhere in the compound. I reluctantly pulled back, my hands sliding down to rest against his chest. His heart beat strong and fast beneath my palm.
“I should go,” I said, though everything in me wanted to stay.
He nodded, stepping back just enough to give me space to open my car door. The loss of his warmth was immediate, the late afternoon air getting cooler as the sun set.
I slid behind the wheel, started the engine.
Through the windshield, Rancor stood watching me, his expression open in a way I hadn’t seen before.
A look of profound longing painted his face like a beacon.
It was funny, because in the romances I enjoyed reading, the hero often wore the exact same expression.
I raised my hand in a small wave, and he returned the gesture, that same slight smile touching his lips.
As I drove away from the compound, the taste of him still on my lips, a realization settled over me like a warm blanket.
For the first time in years -- maybe for the first time ever -- I’d found people who made me feel something other than the need to disappear.
And in Rancor, I’d found a man I desperately wanted to know better.
The thought both comforted and terrified me.
I’d spent so long keeping myself safe by keeping everyone at arm’s-length so I didn’t form connections with others that could be severed easier than they could be forged.
Now I was speeding away from a compound full of ex-cons with the lingering sensation of one of them on my skin, under it, seeping into places I’d closed off inside me a long fucking time ago.
And God help me, I couldn’t wait to go back.