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“It’s nice to meet you, too, Race.” Tipping her head toward the fridge, she asked, “What seems to be wrong with the refrigerator?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he answered as he tossed the bag of, he looked down, french fries, back in the freezer.
“And the hot water heater?”
“That has to be replaced. It’s full of lime. I had a feeling it would be going out soon, so I bought one a couple of weeks ago and it’s been sitting in my garage waiting for me to find time to deal with it.” He closed the freezer door.
“You’ve had a replacement water heater in your garage for two weeks?” Bellamy crossed her arms over her chest, one hip cocking out and her brows reaching her hairline. Uh oh. He’d been around enough women to know that he was in big trouble.
Well hell. He was in trouble. It looked like any good feelings she’d had earlier regarding Race and their kiss was forgotten.
“I had to take cold showers for over a week?”
Race watched Bellamy’s chest rise and fall rapidly for a completely different reason than it had earlier. She was pissed and he couldn’t blame her. He’d be pissed, too, if he had to take cold showers every day. Despite the fact that she was angry with him, he was happy to have them back on familiar ground. They talked, sometimes picked on each other or in her case sniped at him. No one really got out of hand mean and it worked for him. He’d felt lost and confused when they’d kissed in the laundry room. He didn’t understand his reaction to the feel of her lips on his and that just wouldn’t do. He was the Sons of Redemption MC president and he never dealt with uncertainty. He always knew how to handle everything.
“I knew I should have showed up at your door every morning at six a.m. to use your shower. Eventually, you would have gotten sick of me bugging you and gotten it taken care of quicker,” she half-mumbled under her breath.
Her grandmother’s head bounced back and forth between the two, her eyes round.
“What?” Race asked.
“I said I should have started showing up at your house every morning at six a.m. for a shower until you fixed my hot water heater.”
Race fought to keep from moaning at the image her words provoked. Bellamy. Naked. In his shower. If things kept going the way they were, he was going to have the worst case of blue balls known to man.
* * *
She couldn’t believehe’d had a replacement water heater in his garage for the last two weeks and she’d been suffering through cold showers all this time. He could have had anyone from the club change it out at any time. Hell, Jackson would have done it. Why did he make her hound him to death to get it done?
She took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly and opted to move on. They couldn’t go back in time. “What about the refrigerator?” A knock at the front door drew her attention.
One side of his mouth kicked up at the interruption. “Why don’t you answer that while I check out your fridge?”
She spun on her heel and counted to ten on her way to answer the door. What greeted her was a shock. A tall, platinum blonde woman was standing on her front porch. She thought the woman would be pretty at a distance, but up close, she was just average. She was dressed in a lime green puffy coat with a matching beanie and black snow boots with white fur trim. She was wiggling side to side in the cold, her hands shoved in her pockets. She reminded her of the kind of women known to hang out at the clubhouse hoping to hook up with one of the brothers. In fact, Bellamy thought she might have seen her there once. She knew she’d seen her somewhere. Then like a lightning bolt out of the sky, it hit her. She was the blonde bimbo from Race’s hot tub.You have got to be kidding me.
Before Bellamy could find her voice and ask what she wanted, the woman spoke up. “Can you be a sweetie and tell Race I’m ready to go home now?”
Bellamy’s chin jerked back and her brows hit her hairline as she tried not to laugh in the woman’s face. “Un-fucking-believable,” she mumbled. Race had been kissing her in her laundry room just moments earlier and he’d had the hot tub blonde bimbo at his house next door? She’d probably been asleep in his bed when he came over here. What an asshole. For one small moment in the laundry room she thought there had been a spark between herself and Race. She shook her head. How completely stupid could she be? She turned and yelled, “Race! It’s for you!”
Race and Grandma Martha came from the kitchen into the living room, stopping next to her at the door. Grandma Martha gave the woman the once over and finding her lacking, turned and took a seat on the couch. The woman on her porch lit up like a Christmas tree when she laid eyes on Race. Uh oh. The woman had it bad. All Bellamy could say was “good luck, sister.”
“Charlotte,” Race’s voice grumbled.
“I’m ready to go home now, Race.”
He stepped past where Bellamy stood with the door open and stepped onto the porch. Charlotte quickly threaded her arm through his in an obvious attempt to let her know the sexy biker was all hers. She could have told Charlotte it wasn’t necessary. Race wouldn’t be touching Bellamy ever again. It was obvious he liked his women easy, trashy and looking like a stripper.
“It was nice meeting you, Martha,” Race smiled and raised a hand in farewell to her grandmother. To Bellamy, he said, “I’ll be back with the hot water heater. If you want to go pick out a refrigerator and have it delivered, you can send me the bill, Princess.”
“Fine. I’ll go pick one out after I get off work tonight.” Princess? When he’d called her that earlier she hadn’t minded. The way he was saying it now felt completely different. Like what had passed between them earlier hadn’t meant a thing to him. Kissing her had been like kissing any other woman. Oh God, did he think she and Charlotte were completely interchangeable?
With nothing further to say, Race and Charlotte went down the stairs and across the yard. They only made it halfway when Charlotte must have felt the need to further ascertain her claim on him by pulling him to a stop, popping up on her toes and pulling him down for a kiss. When she was finished, she looked over his shoulder and smiled toward Bellamy. The show over, she closed her door. She refused to acknowledge the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head and turned to find her grandmother smiling at her. “What?”
“Nothing. Just noticing you’ve got a thing for your landlord.”
“What?” Bellamy couldn’t believe her grandmother said that. “I most certainly do not.”
“If you say so. I’m not so old that I can’t spot a spark between a man and a woman when I see it. And kiss-swollen lips.” She giggled and patted the seat next to her. Bellamy never could pull one over on Grandma Martha.
