Page 13 of Bound by Destiny
Claps come from behind me.I turn to see Ryker just in time to have him throw his arm over my shoulder, beaming from ear to ear. “She’s gonna fuckin’ love this.”
“Yeah, she is,” I respond, taking the house in.
The home is a ranch style with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, but it’s the view out of the living room that is the money shot. Directly behind the house is a gorgeous pond. The way the light dances off the water is very relaxing. The floor to ceiling windows make it feel as if you’re outside when you’re not. Add in the huge wrap-around porch and Ryker did good with this one.
“Deke’s finishing up Emery’s place, and I think we’ll be done.”
“You’ve done good, man.”
He steps away admiring the room. “We’ve done good.” It’s true. Everyone in the Ravage MC has come together to help make this place livable. It had outdated everything, paint, cabinets, carpet—you name it, we changed it. We practically gutted the place and started from scratch.
“How’s Emery doin’?” Nox asks, coming into the room.
“Not her keeper, man.”
Nox clears his throat. “From what I hear, you spent some time over there the other day.”
“And?”
“Never mind, just don’t be stupid. Deke can throw a hell of a punch,” Nox laughs walking away. One thing I don’t need is someone looking in on what I’m doing. It’s part of this life though—everyone knowing your business even if you don’t want them to.
Ryker shakes his head then puts his hands up in surrender. “Must’ve been my woman talkin’.”
“Whatever, I got shit to do,” I call out, leaving the room.
When I turn I hear, “So am I gonna see you tonight then?”
Shaking my head, I hop on my black and chrome Harley Davidson Softail and ride. The rumble of the bike and the wind fill my senses. Georgia is beautiful with trees lining the roads. Ryker picked a place that is close to the clubhouse, yet trees are scattered everywhere.
After a quick stop off at my apartment, I head over to Emery’s. No, I didn’t tell the guys because I didn’t want to hear their shit. But she called me earlier today and asked me to come to dinner as a thank you for taking care of her the other night. I’m not a man to pass up a home-cooked meal.
Pulling into her lot, I take the stairs two at a time. Just as I’m about to knock, she opens the door with one of her wide, beautiful smiles. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she says, stepping back from the door and letting me pass.
“Smells good.”
She moves into her small kitchen, and I enter the doorway. “I have spaghetti and chicken patties. I call it the poor man’s chicken parmesan.”
Leaning against the jamb, she flutters around the kitchen like she loves to cook, owning the space. It looks good on her. Her short boy shorts show off every inch of her toned legs that go on for miles. And that ass… fuck.
“Hell, I’m a poor man, let’s eat!” I joke as she turns to me smiling. I’d much rather see that look on her face than the terror I saw when she woke up from that nightmare the other night. Once was too many times for this beautiful woman to have to feel that fear.
“Have a seat and I’ll bring it to ya.”
Pulling out a kitchen chair, I plop my ass in it as she sets a steaming pile of food in front of me. The pasta is on the bottom, then the breaded chicken patty, then sauce and melted cheese on top.
“Sweetheart, you feed me like this, you’re never gonna get rid of me.”
Her laughter bubbles from the other room as she plates her own food and brings it to the table. I could never get tired of that sound. It’s radiance and sunshine combined in one. We dig in and it’s damn good. This isn’t a poor man’s anything. It’s excellent.
“How’s school going?”
She sets her fork down with a clank and her face twists. She’s been going to school for a while but had to transfer here to Sumner when her mom got sick. She started taking online classes here at home and didn’t go back to Cherry Vale. I would assume it was to stay near her mom because Angel gave us all a scare. We thought we were going to lose her, but she barreled through.
“Western civilization…”
I’m confused. “What?”
“Western civilization, the class is going to fucking kill me. Why the hell do I want to know about the prehistoric era and learn the tools and systems of development back then? I’m never going to use this shit in everyday life. We have computers, cell phones, and satellites up in the sky to tell us if there is going to be a damn hurricane or anything else we need to know. Western Civilization class is going to kill me, flat out strangle the life from my body. Why can’t it just be numbers? That’s what I’m good at.”
