Page 69 of Jingle Belle's Biker

My apology won’t just magically happen when I’m doing something else.

I need to woman up, head down, and tell him. Maybe he’s not there. His bike wasn’t when I got in, but as I go to the front window to peek, it’s sitting in the courtyard and the sight of it makes my stomach twist.

I’m not scared he’ll reject me. Or be mean.

For all his size, tattoos, and a look that says mess with me at your own peril, Saint doesn’t strike me as a man to hold a grudge.

He doesn’t strike me as one to hold last night’s leaps and bounds to conclusions against me.

So, what am I scared of?

She’s tall, gorgeous, and built. She’s got long, dark hair and goes by the name of Sin.

She looks at Saint like he’s hers, or was.

They have a history.

Sin makes sense with Saint. I do not.

I groan. What am I even thinking? There’s no future for us. The man’s leaving, and even if he wasn’t, we don’t fit into each other’s worlds. We’re flirting with the other side, that’s all.

It’s one hell of a flirt. My pussy throbs at the thought. My heart dances.

I’m about to head down when he knocks on the door. Racing to it, I pull it open, and everything crashes down.

“Why are you here, Lance?”

He doesn’t ask, just comes in, looking about in the way he has, like he might pick up some horrible disease in a place like this.

He raises a brow and takes off his cashmere coat, folding it over his arm as he walks deeper into the apartment. “I own it?”

“Technically, you’re not the landlord.”

“Technically, Isabelle, I am. When my grandmother’s estate is finalized, this is mine, and I’m in charge, have been for years.”

“On paper.” I know, I know. I should let it go. He’s right, and so am I, but getting into an argument with my ex isn’t on my evening’s agenda. “Why are you here? I mean, in my apartment? You hate this place.”

“You’re here.”

I met him at a fundraiser Esther arranged not long after I moved here for the teaching job. I met her first, and she invited me. Water under a bridge, but I think I can count the amount of times he’s stepped foot in here on three fingers. Four now.

When we started seeing each other, we’d hang out at his place, which made sense. His place is palatial and gorgeous. Dripping money. His.

But the place is still in the hands of the other company. So, the fees, all of that, I know he’s right. When her estate is actually finalized, he’ll have a lot more on his plate than just Hank’s chain.

He has diverse holdings, but Hank’s is the family baby, and he loves that baby.

Esther liked her properties. I know he wants everyone out, that the Gardens is interfering with his plans, but until he officially gets the ownership papers, he can’t do anything.

Unless everyone is gone.

I rub my temples. I can’t believe I let his flash and sophistication blind me to who he is.

Esther might have loved her grandson, but she had his number, and while she liked us together, she did tell me to be careful.

That he was way more ruthless than he was showing. Because, she said, he was courting.

Usually, my instincts are spot on. They were way off with him.

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