Page 38 of Riding the Edge

“Why?”

Deciding how to answer her question, I don’t reply at first. I’ve been distracted by Maria and too busy enjoying her company, that I temporarily forgot the fact I’m no longer an active officer and I’m not willing to ruin tonight by unloading my shit with the club. Still, it’s clear she’s not a woman whose questions you ignore.

Instead of giving her the whole sorted story, I give her a deeper truth.

“Got too busy making a living with my club, I forgot to make a life without it.”

My admission is greeted with a helping of silence until the waiter interrupts with the appetizers. Once he leaves the table, Maria reaches across it and surprises me by taking my hand. It’s the first time she’s initiated contact tonight, and something tells me that’s a hard feat for her. Intertwining our fingers, she rubs my thumb with hers.

“It’s never too late to find what makes you happy,” she says softly.

Staring into her eyes, I jerk my head.

“Maybe not.”

“So does this mean I don’t have to call you Wolf?” she quips, releasing my hand.

“Lady, you can call me whatever you want.”

“I prefer Al,” she murmurs.

“Yeah and I don’t mind it too much hearing it come from your lips.”

Winking at her, I notice the faintest hint of pink creep up the column of her neck. Her cheeks flush and I’m instantly hit with the desire to pull more from her—to take as much as she’ll give.

To push her boundaries and knock down her walls.

Strip her of her fears and unravel her inch by beautiful fucking inch.

And I want her calling my name over and over as I do it too.

But instead of helping myself to her, I fill my plate with fried calamari and baked clams.

After all, the night is young and suddenly, I got nothing but time.

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