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“Yeah, well, promises are like egg sandwiches – you drop one on the floor, you make another one.”
“…what?”
“Look, bub, I don’t know any Fiona – but I’ll be happy to take the cash off yer hands if it’ll make you feel better.”
I forced my feet to move – Just put one in front of the other – and stepped out of the back room into the main office.
There he was, looking gorgeous in a plain white T-shirt, jeans, and biker boots. He sported the same short beard as before, though he hadn’t kept it up. There was a good week’s worth of scruff in spots where he’d previously been clean-shaven.
I noticed he wasn’t wearing his Midnight Riders leathers, or anything else that would associate him with them. I figured he was trying to stay under the radar. Or maybe the club had taken them away.
Or maybe he was done with all that, the way I’d thought he was done with me.
“It’s okay, Sid,” I said.
Jack looked up at me, and it was hard to read the emotions in his eyes. A flash of anger, definitely, but there was something else there, too.
Desire?
The memory of good times?
…love?
Seeing him struck me dumb. I guess I had the same effect on him, because we both stood there silently just looking at each other.
So long, in fact, that Sid felt compelled to break the ice. “Oh, THAT Fiona.”
“Is there someplace we can talk?” Jack asked me, then glanced at Sid. “In private?”
“Yeah,” I said, and jerked my head at the back room. “In here.”
As Jack walked towards me, my boss decided to be a comedian. Or a curmudgeon. Probably both.
“If you’re gonna bump uglies, go do it in a motel. I don’t wanna hear it, I don’t want any customers hearin’ it, and I don’t want any more stains on the sofa, you hear?”
Jack looked back at him in mild shock.
I just grinned. “Fine. We’ll keep off the sofa and do it on the mini-fridge instead.”
“NO, I keep my diet Cokes in there!” Sid yelled as I shut the door.
22
Jack and I stood there in the back room, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking – but still staring deeply into each other’s eyes. It was awkward. Fear and uncertainty mixed with unmistakable sexual tension.
Jesus he looked hot. His biceps strained the sleeves of the t-shirt, and the white cloth looked like it was painted on over his massive chest. I couldn’t see his abs, but that just made me want to lift up the shirt and run my fingers over his skin.
Except I was afraid what his reaction would be.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I replied. “I hear you owe me a couple grand.”
He smirked. “Yeah, well, you heard wrong.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
“I didn’t. This is the tenth fuckin’ place I’ve been to.”
