Chapter 1 #2
"He’ll take your head off if you offer. Just give him some space. He’ll be fine."
"How do you know him so well, Static?" I asked. We hadn’t had much time to get to know the lawyer, but now that he was prospecting, and would soon be our brother, we owed it to him to change that.
"Went to school with him and his brother. I was a few years younger, but once we got out and went into the military the three of us ended up on the same deployment." Static stood and walked out without another word.
"Guess I should give Lock a break," Smoke said, looking guilty.
"Probably a good idea." I watched as he went back upstairs to check on his old lady. Giving it a good minute or two to make sure he didn’t come back down, I gave into the urge that had been nudging me since I came down the stairs.
"Morning, Kit." I walked over and took the box of liquor bottles from her hands before she had a chance to take a step.
"Hi, Hell," she said with a smile and a shake of her head. "That’s not your job," she informed me.
"Not really yours either," I shot back as I made my way to the storage room.
She followed and brushed past me so she could arrange the bottles like she wanted. My muscles tightened as her body touched mine. She reached to put up a Tequila bottle and the band t-shirt she was wearing rode up, showing off silky smooth skin.
I swallowed and stood there, like a moron, holding the box while she plucked bottles from it. "Why don’t you let Rip do this?"
"He doesn’t do it right."
That made me chuckle. She grinned at me over her shoulder. Her blue-gray eyes twinkled with humor. Then she bent over to put bottles on one of the lower shelves and I had to bite back a groan.
She was all but waving that perfect ass in my face. It wasn’t like I was going to look away though. Why would I when I could torture myself? My dick hardened in my jeans as I watched her rearrange bottles to put the newest at the back. Fuck, she was beautiful.
"What do you have planned for today?" she asked as she worked.
Clearing my throat, I winced when it still came out husky and deep. "Whatever Lock needs."
"Not back to work with your dad yet?"
"No. I’ve got a few more weeks."
She straightened and turned, putting her hands on her hips. "You won’t be working on the school too, though, once you go back to work with your dad, right?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off.
"Because there’s no way you can go to work at four a.m., then head over to the construction site once you get off at two, then help out with whatever the plan is for The Italians.
You have to sleep sometime." She narrowed her eyes and the look nearly blew my heart out of my chest. She knew my schedule?
And was worrying about me? A grin slowly spread over my face as she glared at me. "Right?"
"That was my plan," I admitted.
She shook her head and wagged a finger at me. "That’s crazy, Hellfire. You’re going to end up hurting yourself. It was bad enough before the club started construction on the school and you were working at the crack of dawn so you could be back in case anyone around here needed anything."
Arching my brow, my grin only got wider. "You checking up on me, Kit?"
A flush stained her cheeks when she realized what she’d just admitted. "No."
Both my brows rose this time. "You sure?"
She started to say something, but broke off when the door to the storeroom was jerked open. We both watched Smokehouse with guilty expressions.
"Hell," he said, the word sounding like a warning. "We need to talk." He made a good impression of Lockout as he stalked away from the door.
Looking back at Kit, I saw the way her cheeks paled. "Hey," I said, voice soft with concern. "What’s wrong?"
"He’s got the wrong idea," she stammered.
Cocking my head, I tried to figure out what she meant. "About what, Vixen?" I’d given her the nickname not long after I started prospecting for the club. She’d never complained, so I used it whenever we were alone.
"Smoke is such a tight ass about me and guys," she explained, seeming to calm down as soon as she started talking. "I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about us. I don’t want to make trouble for you."
The fact that she was still worrying about me cinched it.
How was I supposed to resist that? Setting the box on one of the shelves now that it was almost empty, I made up my mind.
This had gone on long enough. The shit that went down in that Event Center had shaken me to my core.
Since then, I’d been fighting these feelings day and night.
I used to be able to tuck everything I felt for Kit into a tiny corner of my mind and it only escaped occasionally, usually at night when I was alone in my bed.
But that day, seeing Kit walking out through the crowds and flashing lights of emergency vehicles broke whatever hold I had. Thoughts of her had been running wild through my mind.
I’d spent too many fucking nights dreaming of this woman in my life.
Fuck Smoke. I’d find a way to convince him that I was the best thing for Kit.
Fuck The Italians. If they touched her, I’d kill each of them in new and increasingly creative ways until I wiped them all from the face of the Earth.
First, I needed to make her understand that I didn’t want to be just friends with her for the rest of our lives.
Stepping in close, I reveled in the way her eyes widened as I invaded her space. I grasped her chin in my hand. She wasn’t a delicate woman, but in my hands everything was fragile. I was gentle with her. "If he’s got the wrong impression, we may as well have fun before we get into trouble."
"Wha-"
She broke off when I dipped my head and kissed her.