AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I steal a glance at Thunder, who’s sitting at the opposite end of the counter, and my heart flutters. Molly’s waving her hand to get my attention because I can’t seem to focus on anything else. The handsome biker has come to see me again, and I can’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
Flashbacks of our past few weeks together flood my mind. Thunder has been the perfect gentleman, always patient and understanding when I tense up or pull away. I remember the first time he invited me over to his place to watch movies and chill. The aroma of clean linen and the polished surfaces that greeted me surprised me. Nothing like the stereotypical image of a biker’s home. It was spacious and inviting, and he admitted to cleaning up a bit for me. Warmth flooded my chest when he explained that he wanted me to feel comfortable.
I slid into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heart against my chest provided more than just comfort; I felt a connection, a spark that I hadn’t felt in a long time. How did I get so lucky?
I shake myself out of my reverie as Molly nudges me, bringing me back to the present moment. I straighten up and focus on restocking the pastries, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up my cheeks.
Thunder catches my eye and flashes me a flirty smile. “Hey there, beautiful baker.”
I smirk, feeling a playful spark of banter. “Flattery won’t get you extra pastries, you know,” I reply, my fingers deftly arranging the pastries on the shelf, their delicate textures and sweet scents filling the air.
He chuckles, his dark gray eyes twinkling. “Well, it’s worth a shot. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I raise an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. “Oh, I definitely can.”
He leans in closer, the enticing scent of leather and musky cologne surrounding me. “Hmm, I’ll have to come up with a better strategy then,” he waggles his brows.
I try to maintain my composure, but his flirtatious charm is hard to resist. “Good luck with that,” I tease, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
Thunder grins, and an easy affection lights his eyes. It’s a light that beams more often, and each time I have to remind my heart to resume beating. “You’re worth it, Arabella,” he winks.
Warmth spreads through me, and I can’t help but blush. “Smooth talker,” I say, trying to hide my growing affection.
He reaches out to brush a stray curl behind my ear, the warmth of his fingers sending a shiver down my spine. “Only for you,” but instead of a wink, his eyes are a solid wall of dense, unyielding metal.
I catch my breath, my heart racing. Thunder has a way of making me feel special, of making me forget about the world around us. I can’t deny the pull I feel toward him, and I find myself leaning in closer, my lips parting slightly as I anticipate his next move.
Just then, Molly taps my shoulder, interrupting our moment, and I pull away reluctantly, feeling a pang of disappointment.
Thunder chuckles, but there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll see you later, beautiful baker,” he grins, winking at me before he gets up from his seat.
I nod, unable to contain my smile. “Looking forward to it,” I reply, sighing with anticipation.
I watch Thunder as he walks backward towards the door, his eyes fixed on me. He mouths “goodbye” and signs “good day,” so I can understand. I know he hates when he forgets to face me, but I love that he’s trying so hard. It’s one of the many things that makes me swoon over him.
But then, almost as if fate has a twisted sense of humor, he almost bumps into Mac. My eyes widen, and my mouth drops. What the hell is he doing here? When did he get out? Why is he out? Thunder easily reads the horror on my face because his silly smile disappears. Replaced by a steely resolve. He turns to handle any challenge that threatens me, but I’m prepared to handle it myself.
Mac strolls into the shop, wearing the same cocky grin he always wore. He acts every bit the lover, as if we are still in a relationship. Sure of himself, despite the three-year prison sentence between us. He immediately goes for me at the counter, ignoring Thunder’s presence entirely. A huge miscalculation because though I’m frozen with shock and horror—Thunder is not. As Mac moves in for a kiss, Thunder snatches his shoulder with a vice-like grip, pushing him back with a force that carries an unspoken message; Mac is not welcome here.
A storm of furious emotions swirl across his face - rage, protectiveness, and something else I can’t put my finger on. All this time I’ve been thinking of Thunder as a gentle giant. Today I witness the strength he bottles inside - a power so explosive it could burst forth in violence if he thinks I’m in danger. They exchange words. Though I can’t hear them, the intensity speaks for itself.
The storm cloud saturates the room with hot, humid tension. I gulp, hoping the cloud of violence doesn’t burst and ruin Molly’s shop—Ruin us all. Thunder stands tall with his chest puffed out like an avenging angel. His sharp gaze is so laser focused it could cut through steel. His stony visage makes it clear that Mac should never have tried to touch me. At least the warning is clear to everyone except Mac.
I quickly dart around the counter, trying to stand between Thunder and Mac, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t want things to escalate further, not because I’m worried about Mac. My concern is for Thunder. When he shared that he’d spent part of his life in a dark place, I didn’t believe it. Couldn’t imagine it, not from a man so patient and kind. Now, I have no choice. Not when Mac’s presence rips away the blinders. Now that I see he could have lived in that dark place, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure he never returns.
Thunder looks at me, his eyes questioning. Staring down at me so I can read his lips as he asks, “Who’s this guy?”
My hand trembles on Thunder’s chest as I answer. “This is Mac.” My words rumble through him in a violent tempest, and fury floods me in angry waves. I watch the replay of my Mac stories as they cross his face. Thunder tries moving me to the side, but I won’t be swayed. I see murder in his eyes, and I can’t let him go there. I pat his chest like I would soothe an angry lion I thought I’d tamed. “Thunder, let me handle this.” His eyes flare with denial, but then I add, “Please. Please trust me.” He balls his fists and takes a half-step back. Staying within striking distance—killing distance.
I turn and face Mac, who looks smug. His arrogance is a thick slime coating every word. “Missed me?” he drawls. His face painted in rough hues of malice and contempt. “I gave you the time you needed, and now I’m back.”
My fists clench, and I’m ablaze with the same fire lighting up Thunder. “You didn’t give me a damn thing. The state took that time when it put you in prison. Even before it came to that, I told you we were done. Nothing before or since has changed my mind. So leave and never come back. I want nothing to do with you.” I hope I’ve made myself clear… again.
Apparently, I wasn’t clear enough when he demands, “Who’s the asshole hiding behind your skirts?”
“…Not hiding. Respecting my woman’s wishes. Something I hear you have a problem with.” I catch the end of Thunder’s response when I look at him. “My name’s Thunder, and you can find me anytime at Ruff Ryders body shop. So anytime you want to mix it up with me, just come looking.” His eyes narrow, and his spine lengthens when he finishes with, “Please, come looking.”
Mac nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
