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My reaction was shocking. I hadn’t had interest in sex in so long it was foreign to notice the dull ache between my thighs and the pulse in my core that reminded me how long it had been since I felt the passionate embrace of a man in bed. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I spun away from the seductive and powerful presence of the biker. I knew he watched as I walked away, and I swear I could sense his disappointment that I didn’t stick around.
I told myself this was safer. Not getting involved was a necessity.
But the pull I felt toward him didn’t relent even when I climbed into the front seat of my car. Oddly enough, he left the store a few minutes later as I tried to process the reason why I wanted to run back inside and ask for his number. So foolish. He didn’t see me or notice my car and loaded his saddlebags with groceries before hopping on his bike and driving out of the lot. A part of me was tempted to follow.
I didn’t.
Long after Noah and I had dinner and my son was tucked into bed, my thoughts kept returning to the hypnotic gaze of the tattooed biker who was all silver fox and temptation and I wondered if he was as enchanted as I was those few seconds we touched.
It was unlikely, but that didn’t stop me from hoping for it anyway.
“Hey, Santa.”
The kid was back, and he wasn’t the least bit fazed by what I’d told him last time.
“Did you go to the North Pole yet?”
“Nope. No time, son.” I’d just parked my ride a few minutes ago and was enjoying the setting sun and quiet until he showed up. There was a lot of shit going down with the club and I had my own demons to deal with. Slightly irritated, I knew I came off as harsh with my next words. “Told you I wasn’t Santa. You need to listen when an adult is speaking.”
The little Squeaker shrugged. “You’re grumpy.” He kicked at the ground and the toe of his shoe made a little noise that sounded an awful lot like a mouse.
See? Squeaker.
I almost teased him about it until I noticed his expression. He seemed upset but was trying to act like nothing was wrong. Eight-year-old boys didn’t have a lot to be upset about. Had to be serious.
“Want to tell me what’s bugging you?”
His shoulders lifted and then fell quickly in another shrug.
Stroking my beard for a few seconds, I paused like I was thinking hard. “Tell you what. I’ve had a shit day and it looks like you have to. Why don’t we sit down and talk about it?”
Kid plopped his skinny little ass right on the ground and sighed. “Mama was cryin’.”
Shit. Women cried for good and bad reasons. Who knew what the hell that meant?
“A good cry or a sad one?”
Kid wouldn’t look up. “Sad, I think. She’s not supposed to be sad anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because Tonopah is our happy place.”
I didn’t know what the fuck he meant. Still, I tried to offer some kind of advice. “Maybe she just needs a hug.”
“I hug Mama all the time.” He waved the words away with his little hand. “This is different.”
I felt bad for the kid. He probably saw or heard something that was for adults only. “Sometimes women have a reason, son. Doesn’t mean she’s not alright.”
He lifted his head, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. “How do I know if she’s not okay?”
This kid was something else. He loved his mother and felt protective of her. Pretty grown up for such a squeaker. I could tell he was close to her and it was sweet. I might be an old biker set in my ways, but I still had a fuckin’ heart. Kind of.
“Maybe ask your dad if you aren’t sure.”
Kid jumped to his feet fast and the look on his face was pure fear. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I gotta go!”
“Wait!” I hollered after him and tossed my empty beer bottle into the recycling bin. “Hold on. I want to ask you something.”
