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“No, of course not. Have as many as you want.”
He took a chocolate chip and then glanced up at Emma again.
To find her eyeballing his Ravens cut. “What’s it like to be in a motorcycle club?” Her eyes went wide. “Is that too personal to ask?”
Maybe? Eyeballing her right back, he chewed and swallowed. Debated. And then settled on the most important thing, to him. “It’s like having a big family. One you can actually count on.” Unlike the one he’d been born into.
“A big family that brings you medicine to give to a strange lady just because you ask?”
His gaze dropped as he finished his cookie. After Emma had left him standing on the street, Caine had searched the alley down which her mugger had escaped, and then looped around the block to his bike—which was when he’d seen Emma sitting on her stoop and made up his mind to hang until she was safe. He’d called the Ravens’ newest prospective member to run the meds errand for him. Because that was the shit that Prospects did. And because Caine hadn’t liked seeing Emma curled up on the sidewalk in pain.
Not that he really wanted to revisit any of that with her.
“Pretty much. Not what you expected?” he asked, ready to hear the judgment or see the wariness or disapproval he so often encountered among strangers when it came to the club. He didn’t give it any weight anymore, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see it happening around him.
Her expression went thoughtful. “I’m not sure what I expected. But what you described sounds awesome.”
Her honesty impressed him, and so did the way she’d listened to him and seemed to consider what he had to say. His brothers gave him that kind of respect, but it wasn’t something he’d found a lot of in his life. And though he appreciated it from her, it also left him feeling strangely…vulnerable. As if her sincerity and open-mindedness were picks that might open the locks inside him. So he changed the subject—and the tenor of the conversation. “Anyway, I thought you weren’t old enough to be called lady?”
She laughed, and it made those sky blues shine with amusement. Also not something usually directed his way. Shit, he’d known Haven for seven months—and he liked her as well as he liked anyone—and she still approached him like he was a stray dog who might take her hand off. And that was no shade on Haven, either. Caine absolutely had the disposition of a distrusting stray who’d been abused enough to bite even the kindest hands.
“Touché,” she said, brushing cookie crumbs off her fingers onto a napkin. “These cookies are making me realize I never ate dinner. Was too nauseous earlier.”
“But you’re not now?” he asked, taking a third cookie. A peanut butter, this time, because Dare always hoarded all the PBs when Haven made them for the club, meaning no one else ever got any. And, weirdly, eating was making him realize how hungry he was, too.
“No, the pills and the caffeine helped. I’d thank you again except I don’t think you’d want me to.” She arched a brow. Caine wasn’t sure which gave him more satisfaction—that he’d helped her or that she seemed to be flirting with him.
He just looked at her, amused by the way she tried to get under his skin but unwilling to show it. And also not willing to examine too closely the fact that she was successful.
A slow smile grew on her pretty face, but she switched topics. “You want a sandwich?”
Caine blinked. His gut growled. Out loud. “No.”
She laughed at him. “I think your stomach disagrees.” She crossed to her fridge again, and the mass of kids’ drawings fluttered as she opened the door. “I have ham and a couple kinds of cheese, which I could do cold or grilled. And I have a rotisserie chicken I could cut up.”
“Emma—”
“What?” She peered over her shoulder.
The dog came trotting into the room and sat down close to the fridge.
“This is because I said ‘cheese’ out loud.” She smiled down at the puff ball. “Isn’t it, Chewy? You’re crazy for cheese, aren’t you?”
“Chewy?”
“Short for Chewbacca.”
Caine frowned, unsure why he kept asking for these little details about her life but seemingly unable to stop himself. “The giant Star Wars character?”
“Yup.” She crouched down to pet the little round head. “Because Wookiees are awesome. Now, sandwich?”
Knock, knock, knock.
Chewy took off at a tear, barking his not-at-all threatening head off.
“Aw, well, I guess we’ll hold that thought for now,” Emma said, her tone disappointed.
But the weirdest thing was that Caine was disappointed, too. Because once her locks had been replaced, he’d have absolutely no reason to stay.
Chapter 4
Despite the fact that it was eight days til Christmas, Monday morning was mild enough for Emma to walk the twenty minutes through downtown to Frederick Elementary School. She’d been excited about that when she first realized it was in the mid-forties, because the closeness of her grandmother’s house—her house, now—to work was one of the many reasons Emma loved living there. But then her thoughts had resurrected what’d happened Saturday night.
