CHAPTER 24
SHADOW
If I wasn’t so excited to see my kids, I’d be bummed that our ride was over.
I don’t like sitting on the back of someone else’s bike.
I prefer being in control, but it was comfortable being behind Storm.
Not just comfortable but comforting. She has a quiet confidence.
There’s no doubt she has full control of her bike and can handle whatever the ride throws at her.
“Would you like to come upstairs and wait with me?” I give her a half smile. “I don’t have any beer. I don’t keep it in the house, but I can offer you some lemonade. I need to make some for the kids.”
She rewards me with a smile. “I’d love a glass of lemonade.”
Walking toward the building, my nervousness returns. My building is rundown, and my apartment isn’t much to look at. Margot took everything, leaving me to furnish my apartment with secondhand items. I only invested in the bare necessities, choosing to save all my money for a lawyer.
When I unlock the entrance door, I look over my shoulder. “I’m on the second floor.” I make a beeline for the stairs. “The elevator is out of order more often than it’s working. We don’t want to get stuck in it.”
Her footsteps echo behind me as I jog up the steps. I wonder if she’s checking out my ass. I swing my hips a little extra as I continue up. What’s wrong with me? She’s a Thorn. Besides, my life is too complicated for a relationship. Hell, it’s too complicated to even date, forget a relationship.
I’ve known her for all of four hours, and I’m thinking about a relationship. What the hell? The first woman who shows me an ounce of kindness, and I’m shaking my ass for her.
By the time I reach my apartment door, I’m beating myself up. I’m making an awful lot of assumptions. Storm has been nothing but courteous. She’s not acting like she’s trying to get into my pants, and from what I’ve heard, Storm isn’t shy about getting what she wants.
I push open my apartment door, and I’m pleased that I can still smell a hint of the sage and lavender candle that I’d burned last night.
“Um, smells good,” Storm says from behind me. “Lavender and…” Her words trail off.
“Sage.” I hold open the door and motion her in. Once she’s inside, I say, “I’m surprised you recognized it.”
“Lavender and lilac are my favorites. And purple is the best color.”
I chuckle. “I bet if we asked people, they’d tag you for red and me for purple.”
“Why do you say that?”
I lead her through the living room; thankfully, it’s clean. With only a chair, love seat, and end table, keeping it tidy is easy.
“People look at red as dangerous.” I pull a pitcher from the cabinet and motion to the small, pockmarked table against the wall. “Have a seat.”
Storm walks toward me instead of the table. “Do you need help?”
I smirk. “I think I can handle making lemonade.” When she continues to stand near me, heat rises up my neck. I thrust the pitcher at her. “Ya know. I could make some trail mix for the girls. You could do the lemonade.”
I toss a lemonade packet toward Storm, and she snatches it from the air.
“Quick reflexes,” I say.
“It’s a necessity in my world.”
I wonder what she means by that. Then our conversation flashes in my mind. “See, red and dangerous go together.”
“So you think I’m dangerous?”
Oh, yeah. At least her smile is, but I don’t say that. “Isn’t that the Thorns’ reputation?”
“Depends on who you talk to.”
I tilt my head, but I say nothing.
She grins. “Ya never answered, do you think I’m dangerous?”
Shit. Her magnetic appeal is pulling me toward her, but this isn’t a conversation I’m prepared to have with my girls on their way. I’m not sure it’s one I should ever have.
I turn away from her and pull trail mix ingredients from the cabinet. With my back to her, maybe it’ll be easier to answer. “From what I’ve seen of you today, you’re not dangerous.” I won’t tell her that my reactions to her are very dangerous.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” The water turns on behind me as she fills the pitcher. “Besides, red doesn’t have to mean danger. It can mean passion.”
“Or anger,” I counter.
“How about love?”
Shit. I need to get to safer ground. “What about purple? What does it say about you?”
“It says I’ve loved the color since I was a kid.” She laughs. “I don’t think it’s like red. It doesn’t have any meaning.”
“Royalty,” I say, finally turning back toward her.
She grins when I meet her gaze. “Royalty, huh? Nobody’s ever called me that.”
“But you’re the president. Isn’t that royalty?”
“Not in a democracy.”
“Touché.” I laugh. “U.S. politics almost has me forgetting that. How’s the lemonade coming along?”
“I need a spoon.”
I motion to the drawer next to the stove.
As she stirs the lemonade, she says, “I’m looking forward to meeting your girls.”
I stiffen, and the coconut I’m pouring into the bowl spills all over the counter.
When I look up at her, her eyes fill with sadness, and she says, “Do you want me to leave?”
No! I want to shout. “Can we compromise?”
Her expressive brown eyes narrow. “Explain.”
“If the girls mention they met you in my apartment, Margot might make my life hell. Which is jacked up.” I angrily sweep the coconut into the bowl. “She runs off with her paralegal, lives with her and the girls, but god forbid I have someone visiting my apartment.”
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Storm sets the pitcher down and takes the bowl out of my shaking hand. “Let me do this. Tell me what I need to add.”
Her kindness—her care—threatens to break me. I just want to wrap her in a hug and feel her arms around me. Instead, I hand her the bowl. “The ingredients are all out.”
“Just pour them all in?”
“You’re a natural.” I try to smile, but it’s forced.
“So what’s your compromise?” she asks as she rips open the package of M&M’s and pours them in with the coconut.
“We could wait for them in the parking lot. Make it look like I’m talking to a neighbor.”
Storm grabs the front of her cut. “Should I take this off?”
Her words take me by surprise. “I’d never ask you to do that.”
She smiles and begins unbuttoning her vest. “You don’t have to.” She removes it and carefully folds it. Since I’m not a Thorn, I’m not allowed to touch it, so I don’t offer. She carries it to the table and sets it down with reverence.
“How long before they get here?” she asks.
I glance at the microwave clock. “Ten…fifteen minutes.”
“Then let’s finish up and get downstairs.”
We’d not been sitting on the bench outside for long when a black sedan pulls into the apartment complex. It sticks out from the older and cheaper cars in the lot.
“I think they’re here,” Storm says.
The car pulls up in front of us, and a large man emerges. The tinted windows are too dark for me to see inside. “Ellen. Ellen Stewart?”
I jump up from the bench. “That’s me. Do you have my girls?” Seeing him makes me fearful for them. This mountain of a man likely scared them to death.
He smiles, and he doesn’t seem as imposing, but still his biceps are as big around as Nora’s waist. “Nora and Leah. They’ve been the most charming riders I’ve driven.”
“Are they okay?” I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I don’t care if I offend him. I feel Storm move closer to me, but I keep my eyes on him.
His smile broadens, and he puts his hand against his chest. “I know how I look, but trust me, the girls are fine. We had a fabulous time.” He moves around the car and puts his hand on the door handle. “Me and my husband want kids, and hopefully, they’ll be as great as yours.” He opens the door.
Nora and Leah tumble out and wrap their arms around his legs. He gives me a little shrug. “We’ve been singing.”
“If you’re happy and you know it,” Leah belts out, and Nora joins her.
“Clap your hands,” the driver says, and all three clap.
When the sound of clapping comes from beside me, I whip my head around and see Storm clapping. I can’t help but laugh and join in.