AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Knew you would be.”
I snicker. “Glad you’re here, Kit.” A sense of lightness fills my chest as the hottie ignores my statement and begins to read from where she left off. Kit’s voice is smooth, like water running over rocks in a tranquil river. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off beside the woman I wanna get to know better, even if it’s for the sake of my son. Having her here feels right. Dunno why that is. Not gonna fight the urge to be around her, either.
Wrath removes his wraparounds to show his old lady his eyes, and sleep drags me into its darkened abyss.
CHAPTERFIVE
KIT
Popping another grape into my mouth from the Ziplock baggy I’m holding, I stick with Gunz as he gives me the nickel tour of the SS compound. Why he chose to do this, I couldn’t say.
Back at his place, I’d fallen asleep beside him not long after he did. The man doesn’t breathe loudly let alone snore. It’s a little creepy, to be honest. No movement. No noise. Only a hand that twitched every so often after it migrated to my leg and stayed. When I woke up, he was gone—as in out of bed, but in the same house—playing with Dom while Janie showered. When she was through, he got the bag of spare clothes from my truck. While I love wearing Gunz’s jammies, I’m happy to be back in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a plain purple t-shirt, and my flip-flops he tracked down.
It was bittersweet watching him with Dom, knowing he missed out on those important milestones of Adam’s life. You could sense the connection he has with the little one. The joy they experience in each other's presence is undeniable. You can tell a good man from a bad one by the love he shows those he cares for and more importantly, to strangers he doesn’t—like me.
This. What we’re doing now is a ten on the good-guy scale. Every minute with Gunz is like looking through a window into a different life with a man, unlike anyone I’ve met before. He’s genuine and smart. An odd combination if you’ve been single as long as I have. Not saying I haven’t attempted to date. I have. It’s horrible. Sure, when you’re in your twenties, it’s easy, and every man wants to bone you. When you hit your forties, men your age want younger, sexier women like Niki. Those even older than you also want younger, sexier women like Niki. There’s a reason Gunz and her are together, whether it be in the traditional sense or not. That’s what men want. What he wants. She is gorgeous.
I offer Gunz a grape. He pops it into his mouth and delivers a panty-melting smile that could light up Broadway. It’s hard to look and not experience the effects. Everything about him affects me when it shouldn’t. I’ve had at least a dozen mental orgasms since he returned to the house after his meeting. Between wanting me to read, to the flirting, and taking his shirt off.
Holy hell…
Mind blown.
Ovaries gone.
“This is the infirmary.” Gunz opens the door and flicks on a light, but we remain in the hall, on the edge of the threshold.
The room’s what you’d expect a sterile space to be. Nothing special—if you can ignore the fact it’s inside the clubhouse of a motorcycle club and not a hospital operating room. From the looks of things, it has high-tech equipment and a shelf full of medical supplies.
Unsure what my reaction should be, I bob my head and look ridiculous doing it. “This is nice.” I toss another grape into my mouth to give my body something to do besides stand here, looking into a room not all that exciting.
Shoulder resting against the wall beside the door, Gunz unwraps a sucker and studies me. I do my best to keep my attention on my food, the room, and my feet, to avoid eye contact. “You’ve said that about every room I’ve shown you.”
I shrug. “Theyarenice.”
The clubhouse kitchen is where he plied me with fruit after trying to feed me more. I’m not comfortable mooching off people, even if it’s just a sandwich. The room itself was industrial in size, clean, and well-stocked. The main room has a new set of front doors and was cleaned of debris at some point today. The pool table, table and chairs, couch, bar, and jukebox all remain the same, as do the signs on the walls and the overall biker den feel.
“You’re bored.” Gunz twirls the sucker stick between his lips before it settles in the corner of his mouth, rounding out his cheek. He rolls the waxy wrapper between his fingers, turning it into a ball.
“I’m not bored.” Not really. He’s here and watching him is far from boring. If anything, it gives my dull life something to focus on. When you eat dinner standing in your kitchen, over the sink, you realize your normal has reached an all-time low. Spending time with Gunz in any capacity trumps anything I could be doing in the studio apartment I rent, after losing the house and cars when Jeremy disappeared. One salary could only weather so much. With Adam gone and no desire for stuff to clutter my life, it was economically sound for me to downsize. I’m happy in my shoebox.
“This is uninteresting.” He gestures to the infirmary before turning out the light and shutting the door.
Maybe a little, though I’m not about to tell him that.
“It’s fine. You wanted to give me a tour.”
“Guess there’s not much to see, huh?” He smirks, his eyes crinkling at the edges. It’s a good look on him, as I imagine everything is. If you bet me a month ago, I’d meet a man who, after fifty years on this earth, could put thirty-year-old fitness models to shame, I’d have taken that bet and lost… happily.
In the middle of a vacant hallway, I nibble the edge of another grape. Sweetness bursts between my lips, wetting my tongue before I pop it into my mouth to finish. “It’s a building with rooms,” I note between chews, for no real importance other than Gunz seeing my thoughts laid bare. The more honest I am, the better it is for our budding friendship. With the fiasco of Jeremy in my rearview, I refuse to put Adam through another heartbreak like that. If I can keep this world steady for the both of us, I will.
He contemplates my words for a beat before replying. “Most women are dyin’ to see every part of the clubhouse.”
I nod, saying nothing because I’m sure they are. Most women here are looking to land a biker, or already have one. That’s not my intention, no matter how attractive the motorcycle man in front of me is.
“Do you like dogs?” he asks out of nowhere and pushes off the wall, stowing the trash ball in a front pocket.
I chew thoughtfully. “Is that a trick question?”
