Chapter Three #2
She’s dressed in black yoga pants and a Buccaneer’s hoodie, with her hair tied up on top of her head.
She’s not trying to draw attention, but I can’t take my fucking eyes off her.
If she thinks she’s staying under the radar, she’s highly mistaken.
With the way her ass is looking in those tight black pants . . . fuck me!
“Come on, Bones,” Sierra says softly, pulling my attention away from her perfect ass.
“He likes you,” I tell her as we climb into the truck.
“I like him, too.”
Her stomach growls again as we pull out of the parking lot, and I’m reminded of how much of a selfish asshole I am.
I didn’t feed her last night. Viper made her my responsibility, and I’ve fucked up more times than I can count.
Although, she hasn’t nagged me once about last night, which has me thinking she’s not going to rat me out for getting drunk. At least, I hope she won’t.
“I owe you an apology, Sierra. I haven’t been taking very good care of you, and for that, I hope you can forgive me.” Glancing over, I find her staring at me with a soft look in her eyes that I don’t deserve.
“I forgive you, Sparrow. I . . . You said some things last night, and I don’t want to pry, but if you want to talk about anything. I’m here.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry if I—” I hope I didn’t say anything lewd or offensive to the poor girl.
“No! Nothing like that. You . . .” She bites her lip like she’s scared to tell me.
“What’d I say, darlin’? You can tell me.”
“You told me about your child. I’m so sorry, Sparrow,” she whispers.
“Thank you. It’s been a year, but . . .” Shaking my head, I don’t really know what to say. I haven’t really spoken about what happened to anyone.
I’m at a loss for words when she grabs my hand and pulls it to her lips. As soft as a feather, she places a single kiss on the back of my hand before linking her fingers with mine. Fuck. She’s so damn sweet. She’s . . . perfect.
“I don’t deserve it, but I’m hoping you can forgive me for how I treated you yesterday. If you can find it in yourself, do you think we could start over?”
“I would really like that. I hope everyone at home will be as willing as you are to give me a chance to prove I’m not the same woman I was a year ago.
That’s probably wishful thinking, though.
I’ve been preparing myself for the worst, but I’m holding out hope things will go better than I’m expecting.
” She tries to hide the tears rolling down her cheeks, but I see them when I glance in her direction.
As she silently cries, I vow that I will do whatever it takes to make sure she’s given a second chance.
I may not know her story exactly, but I can tell she deserves the chance to make amends.
“Hey, now. None of that. Please don’t cry, baby. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see. It may take some time, but I know everyone will come around when they see the changes I see, yeah?”
“Yeah . . . Sure.” I can hear the doubt in her voice, but I think everyone will see her for who she is now.
Viper was right to send me on this run. Not only did I need a kick in the ass to get my shit together.
I also need to be the one to protect Sierra.
He was wrong about one thing, though. She doesn’t need a friend to have her back; she needs me.
Twenty minutes down the road, I finally find somewhere for us to eat. It’s a hole in the wall, but it’ll have to do. Switching lanes, I pull into the lot just as Sierra’s stomach lets out another round of hungry growls.
“Dry your tears, baby.” She sniffles a few more times but pulls herself together.
“What are we going to do with Bones?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at him.
“Fuck,” I breathe when she shifts her body towards me with her teeth sunk into that plump lip of hers. Her eyes widen as I use the pad of my thumb to pull it free.
“You’re making it really fucking hard to be a gentleman, Birdie.” I don’t think she realizes the effect she has on men.
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“Everything you do makes my dick hard, babe. I want to fuck you, but I have a feeling that would scare the hell out of you, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Uhm . . .” I answer her question when she starts to look nervous.
“I’ll put him in the bed of the truck,” I say, pointing over my shoulder. Opening the door, I climb out and grin when she slides across the bench seat, following me.
Shaking her head, she asks, “He doesn’t try to run away?”
“Naw. He was a stray when I found him. Ever since I brought him home, he sticks pretty close to me.”
“Smart boy,” she says, starting to relax again.
“Come on, baby. I’m starving.”
Sliding on my cut, I grab Birdie’s hand, link our fingers, and head for the door. I don’t know why I feel the need to keep touching her, but thankfully she doesn’t seem to mind.
As I open the door for Birdie, her hand tightens in mine at the attention we’ve drawn.
I scan the room, a habit that’s ingrained in me, and immediately find the cause of her discomfort.
There, seated at the counter, are four men who are staring like she’s their next meal.
Feeling her hand tremble, I pull her closer and am surprised when she leans into me for comfort.
Dipping my head, so I can see her eyes, I promise her, “Nothing to be afraid of, baby. I got you.”
“Okay,” she agrees. It feels like a huge victory when she looks at me trustingly.
“Okay,” I repeat before leading her over to the booth in the corner.
Away from the onlookers, I motion for her to take a seat across from me.
“What? No. I won’t be able to watch my back.”
“Baby, I’m here. I’ll watch your back,” I tell her gently. When it becomes clear that she’s not about to back down, I figure fuck it and say, “All right, slide in, and we’ll sit together.”
As our server approaches, she eyes my cut and pulls her shirt lower in a lame attempt to flaunt her tits. Ignoring the lady, I turn my attention to Birdie and almost laugh at the annoyed look on her face. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s feeling possessive.
“Morning, folks. Need time to look over the menu?” she purrs.
“Nah. Bring me a loaded omelet and keep the coffee coming. Know what you want, baby?” I ask with my eyes locked on Birdie.
“I’ll have the same with a side of fresh fruit.” Birdie rolls her eyes at me. Scanning the room again, I see that we still have the attention from the peanut gallery at the counter.
“Why are they staring, Sparrow?” The confusion written all over her face reminds me just how young Sierra is. She has no concept of her sexual appeal.