Page 41 of Hope's Heartlands

Chapter8

Kate

Bulldog calling me out on how hot I get for him has me sort of panicking when the afterglow wears off. I get up when he goes in search of pants, and I start making scrambled eggs. He comes in and takes over and also makes some pancakes.

“Your house is very neat and isn’t what I was expecting,” I tell him, trying to fill the silence, wondering if I should be going now. And before I can stop myself, I utter the words and even I can hear the jealousy in them. “You must bring a lot of women back to your place and LOVE them Hard like your tattoo says. But I’m not going to forget you. You were incredible.”

He sets the plate down in front of me. “I rarely allow women to come to my house and the few times I have I’ve never fed them.”

“Why not?” I can’t stop myself from asking.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t want them to think they can come back without an invitation.”

I blush and smile at him. “Well, I feel special then. I wish I could come back and keep having mind-blowing sex with you. That would be the life.” I take a bite of the perfect pancake and moan around the taste on my lips. I know I’m hungry, but the pancake he made is probably the best thing I’ve had in a while.

But Bulldog invades my thoughts. “Why can’t you?”

Bulldog

She looks as if she is either stunned or didn’t hear what I said. “Why can’t you come back?”

If she’s married or has a boyfriend, she won’t for long. I don’t know where her head’s at, but last night just doesn’t happen. We were good together. Too good to just chalk it up to a one-night stand.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve got a boring, secure life that I worked my ass off for, I’m not a partier or a biker girl. Hell, I’m not even a girl. I’m a woman who’s old enough to be your mother if I’d started having babies at sixteen.”

The age thing again. Fuck that!

I reach across the table and grab on to her hand. “I’ve lived more than you have in my twenty-four years. While you’re sitting here getting all hung up on numbers why don’t you consider that I’ve fought in wars overseas and here at home? I’ve lost more friends to war than most people dare to even make. I know how short life can be and I know myself well enough to trust my instincts. Right now, they’re telling me that you and I aren’t finished yet. I want more and I always go after what I want. Life is too short for anything less.”

Somewhere in that speech her hand turned in mine and she’s holding me now. Her face is red and I’m hoping that my sermon hit home with her. She can say whatever, but it doesn’t matter how old she is or how old I am. This, whatever this is happening between us, is good.

She shakes her head. “You’re right. You’ve truly lived while I’ve been playing it safe. It makes sense when you say it.” And she stops there, but I can tell she has more to say. It’s plain on her face that the real world, at least hers, won’t accept us. That’s why I need to show her mine.

I spend the rest of breakfast talking to her and getting to know her. We talk about work, our likes and dislikes, and it’s surprising how easy it is to talk to her when our lives are so different.

It’s Saturday, and I have no intention of letting her slip away before I finish making the lasting impression that I intend to make on her. I need to show her what my world is like so she’ll see how it isn’t all she thinks it is, or maybe that it’ll be all she thinks it is and more, but as long as I can show her that she’ll fit in just fine by my side, we might have a chance of something lasting.

“Let’s go out for a ride. And then maybe to the club to meet some of my friends.”

As soon as I say the words, I can tell she’s searching for a way to say no. “Look, if you don’t want to, that’s fine. But I promise you’ll have fun. And I promise you’ll love my friends.”

It takes some urging, but finally she agrees. I go out to her car and grab a bag she left in there last night and leave her to shower and get ready while I do the same in the other bathroom. I would give anything to just join her, but I can tell that she needs her space right now, and I need to prove to her that this is more than just sex.

When she comes out in jeans and a T-shirt, I walk up to her and turn her around, instantly cupping her shapely ass. “Be warned. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands to myself tonight.”

She just smiles, leaning into my caress. I tug on her hand, pulling her to the door before I change my mind and decide to just keep her here, chained to my bed for the rest of eternity.

She stops in front of my bike and looks at it skeptically. “I’m not getting on that. I like to live.”

Her little nose is turned up at the idea of getting on my bike, and I would make fun of her, but this is too important. “C’mon. You trust me, don’t you?”

She wants to say no, anything to stop her from getting on the back of the bike, but she doesn’t. “Yes,” she mutters.

“Good.” I sit down on the bike and scoot forward, raising it upright. I hold my hand out to her, hoping she doesn’t turn me down. “One ride. If you don’t like it, we’ll come back and get my truck.”

Finally she agrees and gets onto the back. As soon as she sits down, I grab on to her thighs and pull her into me, until I can feel every inch of her pressed against my back.

“Ah, I see why you wanted to ride the bike,” she jokes, sliding her hand down my chest and letting it settle low on my belly, her knuckles grazing against my crotch.

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