“I appreciate that, but I’m way over those scratchy sheets, and this room doesn’t necessarily inspire the best memories.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Fair enough.” He nodded in understanding. “We’ll see how you’re doing in the morning.”
“I’m sorry about this. I’m sure I’m holding you up,” I apologized.
“Nothing more important than you,” he replied without delay, sending a frisson of warmth through my belly. As the daughter of an MC, I knew just how important that statement was.
“Are you still staying at the club most nights?” I wondered. It hadn’t occurred to me until now to wonder what “home” he’d be taking me to.
“I was only staying at the club while I amped security up at home,” he shared. “Was anticipating the arrival of a certain redhead.”
“Am I so predictable?” I demanded despite the warmth permeating through my veins—for the first time in days not driven by fever.
His brows rose. “You? Predictable? No. What was predictable was me showing up in Hawthorne and demanding you get on the back of my bike like you should’ve the first time. Planned to be there soon to do just that; got held up by some shit in town.”
“I should have,” I agreed. “Gotten on your bike, I mean. My pop suggested as much.”
“Your father?” he demanded in clear surprise.
“He was mad at first,” I acknowledged. “He wasn’t speaking to me after you left the club that night. But we had a breakthrough with the drama at the salon. I think he was just afraid to lose me.”
“What drama at the salon? Why don’t I know any of this shit?” he demanded.
“You’re not exactly forthcoming on the phone,” I pointed out with a raised brow. “Half the time it felt like you were calling to make sure I was alive and then ready to get on with other things. It’s half the reason I came up with this surprise. I thought if I didn’t make some sort of gesture, this whole thing between us might just disappear.” I pushed my soup away, losing my appetite.
He eyed me intently for a bit before nodding. “Fair enough. I’m shit on the phone. But Grace, this thing between us—it doesn’t disappear. Not with time. Not with distance. I have my house fixed up for you to live in it—to be protected in it. That’s not something a man does who only cares about a woman breathin’.”
“We still have a lot to learn about each other,” I murmured, suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect.
“Can’t fucking wait,” he replied, pushing my soup back toward me. “Eat, ladybug. Want to get you home.”
Truth be told, I had no idea what that meant anymore. Hawthorne had been home for my entire life—up until I’d met Ruston and a completely new sense of comfort had left with him. Now, with him in this roadside motel, I couldn’t deny I felt more at home than I had in years. I had the innate sense I could be with him anywhere and know I was exactly where I needed to be.
And so, I fell headfirst into the choice I’d made the first moment I’d laid eyes on him. The only choice there was when it came down to it, us.
“In that case, Mr. King, I hope you have a big enough closet.”
Chapter 13
RUSTON
Istepped out into the cool air the next morning, Grace sleeping soundly in the motel room behind me.
She’d slept fever free—I knew because I’d checked more than once.
As for me, I hadn’t slept soundly in the days since I’d found her burning up, her fever so intense that she thought I was a dream.
Scared the shit out of me despite my sharing the same dream every goddamn day since I’d set eyes on her.
“Everything ready?” I demanded when I caught Cason, early as it was. The man rarely slept, never had, so I didn’t expect I’d caught him at a bad time.
“House is secure,” he confirmed, fully alert as I’d expected. “New security system, state-of-the-art. Nothing better. Dogs at the ready both at your place and the club.”
“Any issues?”
“None,” he reported. “All’s quiet on Park’s end. Kids we intercepted the other night are still at the club. Waiting on you to figure out what to do with them.”
It was an issue I’d need to think on. Gut instinct told me none of those kids were bad in the sense I was used to dealing with.
