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I took the joint from his fingers and rested it against my lips, taking small drags just as he’d taught me. Our eyes locked as the smoke curled between us, and I studied the golden amber of his irises as a dreamlike calm washed over me. It often felt like he could hypnotize me with those eyes, and in a moment of paranoia, I wondered if that was what he was doing. Part of me wanted to resist and look away, but I couldn’t. Some other ethereal power possessed me to lean in and hold the joint up to his lips, proffering more of the medicine he needed. The question on my mind was why did he need it?
He took a drag, his eyes never leaving mine. This must have been what intimacy felt like. Sharing the balm that could heal both of our hurts. I should have been the first to break away, but Ace beat me to it. He plucked the burning paper from my fingers and snuffed it out, just like the memory of this moment between us. The gatekeepers of my heart battened down for a war on the horizon as he stood and diverted his attention away from me.
“Come on.” He fished the keys from his pocket. “We need to get to the clubhouse and get those spines out of your skin.”
What awaited me at the clubhouse was uncertain, but right then, I didn’t care. The weed had soaked into my veins and warmed my blood, so pain didn’t exist anymore. The needles were a part of me, just like all the broken pieces I’d glued back together over the years. My body was boneless as I stood and joined him at the door, the dilemma of right and wrong forgotten as his gaze slipped briefly to the valley between my breasts. My tongue darted out to wet my lips as my eyes drifted over his powerful frame. Forget the Beards of War. He was a god of war. And I was a mere mortal unequipped with the powers to resist such human temptations.
Between his legs, another muscle bulged against the seam of his faded blue jeans. The girth outlined by the denim was bigger than any other I’d ever seen, and my imagination ran wild with it. He was uncomfortably hard, and it showed. This was the undeniable evidence that proved he wasn’t immune to me. Our eyes collided again as I swallowed, and for three long seconds, the earth stood still. I didn’t know exactly what it was I wanted from him, but I wanted it with the fire of a thousand suns. Nothing about these foreign feelings made sense to me, but I was grateful when Ace broke the spell between us by opening the door and gesturing for me to go outside.
Once we were in the drive, a new debate seemed to emerge as his eyes moved back and forth between the Harley and his truck. When he glanced back at me, I knew he was factoring me in. It shouldn’t have pleased me as much as it did. But I was in his head, and I wanted more of these moments. I wanted him to factor me into everything, the way nobody ever had before.
“I’m all right to walk,” I assured him. The clubhouse wasn’t too far away, and I could manage even with the needles in my back.
He nodded, and we set off down the street into the direction of the fading sun. A quiet stillness had settled over us, and I didn’t feel the need to fill it, but I couldn’t sate my curiosity any longer.
“What’s in the warehouse?” I asked.
He gave me a sideways glance. “What do you think is in the warehouse?”
I already knew, but I wanted to hear it from him. When I came upon it earlier, it didn’t take long to deduce what the smell was.
“I’m guessing it’s weed,” I answered. “A lot of fucking weed.”
The corner of his lip curled, probably the closest thing to a smile I’d ever seen from him. “You guessed right.”
“So you guys grow it? That’s the club business?”
“The club business isn’t your business,” he grunted.
I rolled my eyes. “Like I’m going to blab to anyone. You have me trapped here, remember?”
“It isn’t about that.” Ace turned to me, his expression serious. “You just seem to be a magnet for trouble, and I don’t want you getting wrapped up in the club life.”
Whatever that meant, I didn’t know. But his words re-opened the wound that triggered this entire chain of events. “Why did you ask Trouble to insert herself into my life?”
“Don’t be too hard on her,” he answered. “She was just doing her job.”
His response didn’t answer my question, but I’d come to expect that from Ace. He was loyal to his friends, and apparently, that included Trouble. He wouldn’t throw her under the bus, and if I tried to argue the ethics of what they’d done, he’d be quick to point out my own shortcomings in that arena. If there was one thing I knew by now, it was that Ace didn’t bother to sugarcoat anything. If he even bothered to speak to you at all, he’d tell you what he thought point blank.
