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Whatever I was feeling poured out of me and onto my laptop. Into this... thing that I was creating. The thing without a title, without a name.
I’d been working on it almost every day after taking the kids to school, after putting in my first load of laundry or whatever the chore was that I knew not to postpone too long. Today, however, Kace had texted me and told me that he was taking me out for the day. He’d also said to wear something comfortable.
I didn’t know what to make of that. Comfort for me was tight black jeans, studded boots, a tight black tank, a crapload of silver jewelry and a leather jacket, even though fall in California didn’t really require it.
When Kace arrived, his eyes ran over me with a heat that hadn’t dulled, despite the time we’d spent together. It reminded me of the kind of attraction Ranger and I’d had. Sure, through the years of marriage, our struggles, there had been peaks and valleys. But that passion had never gone away. Every time he’d kissed me. I got butterflies, sparks, fireworks, all of that.
It was cruel to both me and to Kace to continually compare the two men, my experiences with them, but it was also impossible not to. Though truthfully, there was no comparison. The only similarities they had were they wore the same cut and had those same, macho, alpha tendencies that men in those cuts usually had. Other than that, they were polar opposites. Kace was quick to smile, had a lightness around him, despite his past. Always ready to tease. Ranger was darkness. Once you learned to look at him close enough. He wasn’t easy or laid back. He was tortured by his past. By his scars. He loved fiercely and forever. He smiled and laughed with our kids, but not without pain.
Two very different men. Two different seasons in my life.
“You look fuckin’ beautiful, babe,” Kace said, grabbing me and pressing our bodies together.
My stomach dipped when he did this, as he did every time he greeted me. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I murmured. “Future reference, comfortable as a dress code is not enough detail for a woman like me.”
A line creased his forehead. A woman like you?”
I nodded. “A woman who likes to accessorize. Who likes to look good. Looking good isn’t always mutually exclusive with comfort. I’m okay with that.”
He smiled, kissing me. “So noted,” he chuckled against my lips. “Just so you know, you look good no matter what. First thing in the morning, hair all crazy, still shaking off sleep, that’s my favorite.”
I raised a brow. “Bullshit.”
He grinned. “Believe me or not, it’s the truth.”
I ached to fight him on that, but figured we could be here a while. “So, are we going somewhere, or is this some kind of elaborate ruse to get me into bed?” I questioned, totally fine with either one.
“Baby, I don’t need an elaborate ruse to get you into bed,” he smirked.
I scowled at him.
He just grinned back, stepping away slightly, intertwining our hands. Kace was all about touching. If I was within touching distance, he was there. When the kids were around, I made sure that didn’t happen. But he took every single moment that they were distracted, reading, playing, to put his hands on me.
I liked it. His hunger for me. Bordering on desperation. Because I needed it too.
“We’re going on a ride,” he stated, leading me out the door.
His bike was parked in the driveway, next to a shiny SUV.
It was a ‘loaner’ from the garage. One that arrived the day after my accident. Cade had dropped it off without a word. He knew Ranger had a truck, and he knew it was still locked in the garage. Yet somehow, he knew how terrified I was to drive it.
So he’d made sure I had something to drive.
Because that was the kind of guy he was. Badass. Scary. Deadly. Kind. Protective. Emotionally considerate.
Kace had come on outings with me and the kids because he’d needed to. Of course, the kids didn’t know someone might be trying to kill their mother, so they assumed he came along because he wanted to. Though that was probably true, he seemed to genuinely enjoy accompanying us.
He drove the SUV every time we went out.
We’d never gone on his bike.
I froze in the driveway, staring at it.
His hand was in mine. I could still taste his lips in my mouth, my thighs aching from what he’d done to me last night. Yet the prospect of getting on the back of his bike was too intimate.
It meant something in the MC world. I’d never been on the back of anyone’s bike apart from Ranger’s. No exceptions.
There was something pivotal about this moment. Kace knew it. He might’ve been younger, but he’d been in the MC all of his adult life. He knew the protocols when it came to this. Knew what me getting on the back of his bike would mean.
