Page 106 of Dark Surrender

“And almost died.”

“And met you.”

“You met me before that.”

“No, I didn’t. I met my father-in-law’s latest fling, with beautiful, mismatched eyes. Not you.”

“I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Me neither. Not when I’m away from work. Work’s easy. I don’t know how to be a father or a husband. My son Fog hates me, and his boyfriend’s here.”

“His boyfriend?”

“Lace is Fog’s partner.”

Oh.

“Does that bother you?” I ask.

“That my kid’s gay? No. That his boyfriend’s around my age and a crazy son of a bitch? Yeah. That bothers me. When my boys grew up wanting to be Sacred Sinners, I was thrilled at first, then I wasn’t. I wanted them to have a normal life. Work a legit job. Go to college. The whole thing. Shit I never got to do. But they’re bikers now, and Fog just had to go and date one. He couldn’t have met a nice, average dude who grounded him. He had to date… Lace.” Dark shakes his head, grumbles a paragraph of expletives, and when he’s done venting his frustrations, he kisses my cheek.

Patting his knee, I chuckle. “Feel better?”

“Not really,” he complains with a wide, forced smile that turns genuine when he adds, “You’re terrible to talk to.”

Pressing my lips together to keep my own grin at bay, I knock my shoulder into his. “I know. I’m the worst.”

Dark snickers. “Real talk…Is there anything you’re actually bad at?”

“Cooking on an actual stove.” I put up a finger, then another. “Probably sex. Talking to men…” I tick off everything that comes to mind. Laundry, too. I still screw that up. How much soap to use? To use softener or not. Then there’s bleach. How much is too much? What colors do you wash together? We had few clothes growing up and washed everything by hand in a steel tub with a bar of soap. As an adult, even when I wasn’t living in the cabin, I washed most of my clothes in the tub and hung them to dry.

“Cooking’s overrated,” he states. “There’s no way you’re bad at sex. You’re the hottest woman alive. That’s not possible… And you talk to me just fine.”

Gah! This man with his… words and… stuff.

“Are you flirting with me, Dark?” I tease, trying really hard not to laugh like a silly girl.

“Is it working?”

Yes.

“Maybeeee. What if I told you I wanted you to take me upstairs and take my virginity tonight?” I bounce my eyebrows suggestively.

Dark licks his lips. “Fuck.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fuck. I know. Give me a second.” Getting off the step, Dark paces between the bushes that flank the porch, muttering something under his breath. Every now and again, he looks over at me, adjusts his cock, and keeps marching through the gravel.

Emotions war in my chest as I try not to laugh at how seriously he’s taking this. Then again, do I really want sex tonight? It was an offhand comment, brought to you by something that’s grown into an invisible tether between us, one that continues to grow the longer we ignore its presence.

The big guy who hugged me earlier plops down beside me on the top step with an achy groan. “He okay?” Bear juts his chin at Dark.

“Yes. He’s just working through some stuff.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I fib a little.