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Olivia pressed a hand to her stomach and sagged against the counter. “Damn that man,” she whispered. Was he that potent to all women, or was it her? Did she have something inside her that weakened when he shot her one of those sexy winks or mischievous smiles?
Within seconds, he returned for another armful of food. Before she knew it, he’d set everything out on the table, leaving her with nothing but the corn muffins to carry. As she walked into the dining area, cheers and applause sounded from the table full of hungry men and Brooke. A few dogs chomped bones while lying on their beds in the corner. Everyone was dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts. Bottles of beer sat half consumed at each place except for her's and Brooke’s. They had glasses of wine she knew wouldn’t be fancy or expensive but surprisingly delicious. Smiles graced each face, directed at her while everyone clapped their hands.
All this for a meal they hadn’t even tasted yet. It could taste disgusting for all they knew. There were no white gloves, no servers, no crystal glasses, or gold-rimmed place settings. Nothing about this meal said fancy or gourmet. But she’d never attended a more special dinner in her life. Her face heated, and her eyes watered as she waved away their praise. “Maybe you all should taste it first.”
“Pretty sure you could serve these guys some of Ray and Harley’s kibble, and they’d fight over it,” Brooke said with a beaming smile. She sat right where she belonged—beside her ol’ man at the head of the long rectangular table—an integral part of the family.
Tracker grabbed a sandwich and took a huge bite. “Fuck yes, this is delicious,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Come sit, girl. You’ve outdone yourself.”
Whether he was serious or only polite, it didn’t matter. She’d never felt more appreciated or accepted than she did sitting with this rag-tag family of bikers. Scott steered her toward her seat, next to him and across from Brooke.
Once they were seated, he picked up the quickly dwindling plate of sandwiches and held it for her. She grabbed one, then reached for the cornbread. After his plate was full, Scott grabbed his fork and dug in. Without missing a beat, he settled his left hand on her thigh and let it stay there throughout the meal.
The feel of those calloused fingers resting on her bare skin, shifting and occasionally stroking, had her wanting to melt into a puddle on the floor. Scott chatted, laughed, and ate as though nothing had changed, but Olivia found it hard to concentrate on anything beyond the warmth of his skin on hers. She faked it well, laughing along with Tracker’s ridiculous stories, oohing and aahing over the dogs’ antics, and gossiping with Brooke, but the entire time a large piece of her awareness stayed on Scott’s warm, strong hand.
“Damn,” Curly said as he leaned back and rubbed a hand over his stomach. “That was a seriously good meal, Olivia. Thank you.”
“Truth!” Brooke added. “We might have to get you on the rotation.” She winked.
Olivia couldn’t have kept from grinning if she tried. How nice was it to be appreciated for something she’d created? The last time she’d cooked for Lance, he told her the chicken was bland and overcooked while the veggies were raw and salty. They might have been, but still, no one here had a negative word to say about the crumbly corn muffins. How hard was it to spread a little kindness to the woman he was supposed to marry? It was one of the many red flags she’d ignored in favor of a cushy life. It’d taken Lance sticking his dick in another woman to wake her up to the fact their relationship had died long before he cheated. Well, long before she knew about the cheating, anyway.
And there went her thoughts, skipping down a dark path.
“You good?” Scott asked. “You got all tense.”
She glanced down to his hand still on her leg, then relaxed. The words, I’m great, nearly fell from her lips after years of being programmed to respond as such. But Scott’s expression held a sincerity she wasn’t accustomed to. The question wasn’t an obligation or a throw-away. He legitimately wanted to know if something was bothering her. And that had her answering with more truth than she’d given her fiancé in years. “Rogue, unsettling thought. Nothing to do with anything here.” She smiled. Though he couldn’t know the whole truth, she could at least give him a little vulnerability. Maybe he’d do the same tonight in return. “It passed, though.”
She could be forced to flee Florida at any point. Who knew when Lance would find her? Right then and there, she vowed that no matter what Scott told her tonight, she wouldn’t waste a moment of her time here with him. Every second deserved to be soaked up and every experience reveled in.
