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“I bought my first Harley, it was used and needed some work before it was road worthy, but I kept saying it was going to be the Rolls Royce of bikes,” he continues his story. “Hence, Royce came about.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Of course, I do! It’s still a piece of shit, but it’s my baby. It’s the best Harley I could afford at the time, so I shrugged off the comments from the guys and made the best of it.”
“That’s kind of awesome,” I quietly give him my seal of approval before turning to look out of the window, enjoying all the stars in the night sky.
While this is turning out to be more of an adventure than a date, I’m learning more about him than I would during a conventional evening out. I wonder what I’m walking into with this impromptu visit to see his mom and what she’ll think of herson showing up with a stranger, or if she’s used to this kind of behavior from him.
*
“Molly,” Royce whispers, his hand tucking my hair behind my ear as he gently wakes me up. “Hey, sweetness, I thought we could run in here to get some clothes and things?”
My eyes shift from the excitement in his brown eyes to the bright lights illuminating a big box store’s parking lot and I nod in agreement. Thankfully, he seems to understand that I’m not big on talking when I first wake up, simply taking my hand as we walk to the front doors.
Leaving our cart in the aisle that separates the men and women’s clothing sections, we both browse the aisles to find underwear and extra shirts before heading to find toiletries.
I get a laugh from him when he sees the children’s toothbrushes I picked out for us, one with cupcakes and the other with motorcycles adorning their handles. He spontaneously leans down to kiss me and I hear someone sigh; looking up into the weathered eyes of an older lady, approaching us with her own cart, she gives me a wink and a nod as she passes by.
“Do we need anything else?” he asks me.
“Does your mom have any allergies?” I counter and he shakes his head. “Then how about we get some groceries and I’ll make breakfast for her—since we’re showing up unannounced.”
“Thank you, Molly,” he quietly replies, pushing the cart toward the food aisles.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I quip, bumping him with my hip. “Let’s see if the cashiersknowyou.”
“Mom’s gonna love you,” he deadpans more to himself than to me as I outpace him to see the selection they have and plan out a meal.
Chapter 8
Royce
We arrive at my mom’s house with the dawn, and I’m glad we’re finally here given that Molly’s leg has been bouncing since we left the store. I’ve tried rubbing her thigh a few times, but my dick starts to harden every time she relaxes under my touch.
Molly will never admit it, but she lets out a little sigh when I do that and I wonder how much longer I’ll have to wait before I get her into my bed. And how I’ll get her to stay once I do.
I may have ticked her off something fierce coming out of the gate, however she sure seems like she’s warming up to me again; much like that night we kissed at Charlie’s party.
Reaching into the bright, red flower pot on the front porch, I feel around for the spare key. I’m still unsuccessfully digging that out when I hear a floorboard creak on the other side of the door. Looking over my shoulder, I smile in the direction of the window and almost instantly, the door is pulled open and Momma’s wrapping her arms around me.
“Ryan! Oh, Lord, you scared me! Are you alright? What are you doing here?” Her questions are muffled, as they’re all spoken from where her face is tucked into my chest. “Goodness, you’ve gotten fit! It’s so good to have you home!”
“I missed ya, Ma,” I tell her, keeping my arms wrapped around her. “I brought someone I want you to meet.”
With that she peeks up at my face, her tear tracks pulling at my heart as much as the hopeful expression I see in her eyes. I once again kick myself for not getting back months ago; like I had promised.
When I kiss her forehead, she leans to the side to peer around me. Molly must take this as her cue, since I hear the car door open.
“Ma, this is Molly Kent. Molly, this is my ma, Colleen MacNeal,” I say, waving between them, before leaning down and whispering into my mom’s ear. With my words, her eyes light up her face and she caresses my cheek before she walks down the three steps to greet Molly.
After a quick hug, they stand there, grasping each other’s arms and chatting like they’re old friends. Since I’m not needed, I walk around the car to pop the trunk. The groan that the hinges let out adds another item to my growing list of things to check when I wrestle this well-worn, seven-year old vehicle from Molly’s grasp long enough to revitalize it.
Loading my arms up with our purchases, I carry them inside, carefully leaving out the eggs and other things she scooped up for the meal she planned.
“Ryan!” Mom can’t even pretend she isn’t laughing at me as she reenters her house. “I don’t know if I’m flattered or horrified that I’ve become your back-up plan to salvage a date!”
“Traitor.” I throw a wink in Molly’s direction, before looking at the woman who gave everything to raise her babies. “Ma, I need your help with this one.”
