Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
As I pull up to Olivia’s, I take her house in. It’s nestled amongst numerous, beautiful trees—protected by the fall foliage that makes the entire scene picturesque. Her porch light glows invitingly, even though it’s not quite dark yet. Olivia always leaves it on out of habit. She says it makes her feel safe. I kill the engine, sit for a minute, letting the rumble fade. My knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. Jesus, I miss my bike. A bike ride in the fall air allows me to clear my head and right now, I need that desperately.
I know it might be better to let Olivia go, but I can’t. I want her. Not the polite kind of want, either. The kind that gets under your skin and doesn’t let go. I get out and walk up to her door. She opens it before I get there with a smile lighting up her face. Bare feet, old jeans, one of my T-shirts swallowing her whole. My chest aches just from looking at her.
She’s fucking perfect.
“Hey, stranger,” she says, voice soft and warm.
“Hey, Usdi.”
“I missed you,” she murmurs, stepping back to let me inside. I give her a quick kiss, before walking all the way into the house. The scent of coffee and vanilla fills the air. She’s been baking again—there’s a smear of icing on her cheek. I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb, licking off the buttercream deliciousness.
“Almost as sweet as my woman,” I purr, my heart full. God, she’s everything.
Olivia chuckles softly.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. “I made grilled cheese. It’s not a huge dinner, but it settles Dad’s stomach. I make it fancy though, with three different types of cheese,” she adds with a wink.
I grin. “I thought you were spoiling me just by telling me you missed me and meeting me on the doorstep, but now with the offer of food? I’m certain of it.”
“You’re crazy,” she laughs.
I follow her into the kitchen. The counter’s cluttered, while music is playing softly on the radio. It’s so damn domestic it almost makes me laugh. I’ve broken bones, taken bullets, stood shoulder to shoulder with killers … but this? This right here feels dangerous in a whole different way. It also feels like being home after years of being lonely and isolated. I watch as she works, creating her magic with just cheese, bread, and butter. Eventually, she slides a plate toward me that is filled with three sandwiches. I don’t take it. Instead, I grab her waist and pull her in close. “Do you think about me when I’m not here?”
Her breath catches. “Way too much,” she says honestly.
Her words are spoken quietly, but with the force of a nine-pound hammer. It’s all the encouragement I need. I kiss her—slow at first, then deeper as she melts against me. Every bit of tension I’ve been carrying, every unspoken thought and unknown outcome that has been torturing me since talking to Bear and Hangman, disappears with the swirl of her tongue against mine.
When the kiss ends, she looks up at me, cheeks flushed. “Are you okay, Blade? You seem… off.”
I hesitate. Part of me wants to tell her everything—about Bear, about the club, about how close she’s getting to the parts of me she doesn’t even know exist. I know I can’t. In this instance, complete secrecy is needed. I don’t think Olivia would tell those she works with, but I can’t be sure—especially if she doesn’t like the fact that I am part of the club and that my brothers know more about guns than good intentions. I need to protect the club.
With a sigh, I continue to hold back the words that would either set us free or destroy us forever. “I’m good, Liv. Just … It has been a long day.”
She studies me, eyes sweet and gentle, filled with concern. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, you know.”
Christ, if she only knew. I brush a kiss onto her forehead. “Eat your sandwich before it gets cold.”
“Those are yours. I ate earlier.”
“I don’t like to eat alone. Here, you take one. You need to eat more anyway.”
“Did you just say I’m too skinny?” she huffs.
“You’re perfect. I just like your ass a lot and want to keep it the way it is. So, eat,” I counter with a grin.
“You’re horrible. I’ll get us something to drink.” She goes to the fridge and grabs me a beer and a bottle of water for herself.
I take a bite of the sandwich and nearly moan. “How in the fuck do you make something as simple as a grilled cheese taste like something that should be served at Per Se?”
“Per Se?” she asks, scrunching up her nose, clearly confused.
“A three-star Michelin restaurant in Manhattan. I’ll take you there sometime. The food is amazing.”