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“Is it now?” he asks excitedly.
“I mean, after this,” I answer cautiously. I’m not lying. I just don’t want to mess up and say the wrong thing.
“Well, then go on, man!” he insists. “Seriously, I understand. We’ll catch up later.”
I’m about to protest, but it’s been nearly four hours since I’ve seen Sutton. I’m feeling restless without her near me. I need to know how she’s doing, if she’s comfortable, and if she needs anything.
I nod, clapping my friend on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” I tell him. I don’t wait for his reply, which must amuse him.
Hawk’s laughter follows me to the parking lot, where I hop on my bike and rev the engine, more than ready to return home to my woman.
CHAPTERFIVE
SUTTON
Ifinish polishing the stainless-steel fridge, smiling at my reflection in the freshly cleaned metal. Taking a step back, I look around the kitchen at my handiwork.
The dishes have been cleaned and put away from lunch this afternoon before Rider left for the clubhouse. I cleaned off the counters, organized the fridge and cupboards, swept, mopped, and polished all the appliances. I would have prepped something for dinner, but Rider is a much better chef than I could ever hope to be. I don’t want to insult him by making him choke down something I made when we could enjoy whatever he cooks up.
My eye catches on a scuff mark on the stove, and I dash over there, rag and polish in hand.
“There,” I say under my breath. “Spotless.”
It’s not a lot, but I need to start helping out more. There’s no way I can ever repay Rider for his kindness, but this is a start. A clean house and yard. I can do that much, at least.
The now familiar sound of Rider’s motorcycle gets closer and closer until I feel the vibrations of the powerful engine rumbling through the ground, into the floorboards, and up my legs, landing between my thighs. My core throbs as I listen for Rider’s footsteps on the front porch. The closer he gets, the worse the ache blooming in my lower belly.
What the heck is happening to me? Can someone die of being too turned on?The man isn’t even in the same room as me, and I’m about to melt into a puddle on the kitchen floor.
The front door swings open, and I rub my sweaty palms on my leggings, excited and anxious to see Rider again. His large frame fills the doorway as he strides inside, his shoulders barely fitting through the entryway.
Just like every time I see Rider, I’m struck by the depth in his espresso-brown eyes. Coupled with his strong brow, straight nose, and dark stubble, the man is so gorgeous it hurts.
When he grins at me, I nearly fall over from swooning so damn hard. Even after knowing Tessa for over a year, I’m still not used to people being happy to see me. And no one has ever looked at me like Rider does.
“Hi, princess,” he says, his voice warm and raspy. I love all of his pet names for me. They make me feel special like we’re a real couple.
“Hi,” I stutter, wringing my hands in front of me. My heart is pumping faster than a hummingbird’s wings, the sound deafening in my ears. Anxiety floods in, followed by my parent’s voices.
“What did I say about being out here when I get home from work? I don’t want to see you until after I’ve had a drink.”
“If I wanted to talk to you, I’d come find you. Until then, shut the hell up.”
I try blocking out my father’s hurtful words and my mother’s shrill tone, focusing on the present. They aren’t here. They don’t have any power over me anymore.
“Um, so I cleaned while you were away,” I start, gesturing vaguely around the house. “Swept, mopped, vacuumed, dusted. Oh, and I organized the fridge and cupboards in a way that I think will be more efficient for how you use things. Although, now I think about it, maybe that was intrusive. Shoot. I, uh…”
Rider steps closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine. I can’t tell if he’s upset, annoyed, or some other emotion. I should stop talking since that’s what usually set my parents off, but I can’t seem to hold back the words pouring from my mouth.
“And the yard!” I exclaim. “You said the garden beds were giving you trouble. I went through and pulled the weeds, then I found a garden hoe and tilled the soil. You’ll probably need to mix in some new topsoil, depending on what you want to…”
I trail off, staring at the determined look in Rider’s dark eyes. I watch as he steps into my personal space, still unsure if he’s going to yell at me or…
His arms are around me in the next second, and I collapse into his comforting embrace.
“You’re shaking, little flower,” he whispers.
I don’t say anything. I just nod. Rider somehow knows what I need. He tucks my head under his chin, and I rest against his chest, my ear pressed against his heart. The steady beat tethers my soul back to reality. Back to him.
