“SC Charter?” Fiona asked, right as I blurted out the only thing I’d heard from that last sentence.
“What’s that about Match?”Why is she making special meals for him and not me?Before that thought could fully register, Guard burst out laughing.
“Aw, look at big bro, all pissy and jealous. Fee, don’t let him manipulate you. You cook whatever your heart desires. I can taste-test to help,” Charlie offered, and Fiona looked overwhelmed. I grabbed her hand, her head whipping around in shock.
“Fee, baby, you don’t have to cook anything. Don’t let them bully you. You should definitely come by the clubhouse, though. Maybe you can come by this week to check it out when it’s not packed with people. We can make sure Charlie and Match are there so you’re comfortable.
“That way, it will be less overwhelming at the cookout next week. We have a few charters located throughout the states, so in addition to the regular guys, there will be a dozen or so of the brothers from South Carolina there as well.”
Her eyes never left mine as I spoke, and I could have lost myself in her gaze. She had a gift for making you feel like the only one in the room when you were talking to her, to the point that I hadn’t realized my whole family was staring at us open-mouthed during my spiel. I was holding Fiona’s hand andhad called her baby. Charlie was shooting daggers, Dad looked beyond amused, and Mom just looked shocked.
“What about tomorrow afternoon? I’ll come by, we can get ready together, then I’ll drive us over. If you’re uncomfortable or don’t want to be there, we can come back here and watch a movie,” Charlie offered.
Seeing she was outnumbered, Fiona nodded meekly. I was glad my family was there. Whether they intended to or not, they were helping me get that much closer to making sure she was fully woven into the fabric of our lives.
The idea of not having a future with Fiona was no longer plausible to me, and my loved ones had just handed me the perfect opportunity to show her where she was meant to be. There was a family waiting for her—she just had to let us in.
Chapter 9
Fiona
Dinner at Guard and Cece’s was an eye-opening event. I loved hearing stories about Bash and Charlie as kids, and it was warming to see the easy camaraderie between all of them. Guard and Cece were a fascinating couple. I didn’t think many people would have considered them a classic match. Guard was loud and brash with no filter. Cece was sharp. She didn’t talk nearly as much as her husband, but when she did, she got right to the point. There was a quietness about her, her calm demeanor almost a direct contrast to the hurricane that was Guard.
Over a boisterous meal, I learned about how Bash had earned his nickname, the time Charlie tried to give herself bangs and wound up with a bowl cut, as well as some of the MC logistics. I was shocked at the family’s insistence I go to the clubhouse, but couldn’t pretend like there wasn’t a part of me that was dying to go. I was fascinated. I had so many ideas and questions, but there was a part of me that was scared.
I had a hard time adapting to new situations and surroundings. Don’t even get me started on big group events with drinking. They were anxiety-inducing to me. Definitely not my scene. I always felt uncomfortable and unsure in those situations, desperate for a quiet corner to escape to. Charlie must have realized that when she invited me to come. Somehow,I didn’t imagine a Sunday afternoon would have the clubhouse packed with people.
After dessert and coffee, where the entire table devoured the cake I brought, Bash announced it was time to take me home. The rest of the Williams family exchanged a look, but before I could analyze it too much, Bash was hustling me out of the house. The ride felt tense, enclosed in a dark space, just the two of us.
It felt like there was an invisible current pulling me toward him, my body subconsciously swaying in his direction. Snapping myself upright, I then hyperfocused on what to do with my hands. Unsure what to say or do, I found myself sitting silently for most of the ride.
When we pulled into a parking spot, a sigh of relief ran through me. The anxiety had ratcheted up on the short drive, and I was desperate to escape into my apartment to decompress.
Before I had my seat belt off, Bash’s large hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. Shock ran through me as his lips covered mine, but within seconds, I was melting into him. That kiss felt different than the ones before, more urgent, with a tinge of desperation.
My hands slid up his chest on their own accord as he pulled me so I was leaning over the center console. His hands dropped, and we pulled apart. I watched as he reached down to slide his seat back. Before I was too far away, he reached over and lifted me onto his lap with barely any effort.
I was too shocked by the sudden change in position to really process anything, but as soon as Bash pulled me down to him, I lost myself in him. I had never been that close to a man before. Our bodies were touching everywhere, and I felt completely surrounded by him. With a hand in my hair and one on my back, he clutched me to him, equally as fervent.
He nipped at my lip, then soothed it with his tongue before ripping his mouth from mine, only to trail his lips down my neck. Instinctively, I tilted my head to the side to give him better access. My breathing sped up, and unfamiliar feelings started running through me.
I want his shirt off. I want to feel his skin on mine. I want time and space to explore every inch of him.That thought had me pulling back, coming back to reality with a harsh landing. Before I could get too far away, Bash’s hand tightened on my neck, forcing me to look at him.
“What’s going through that head of yours, pretty girl?” he asked, searching my face.
For some reason, the question made me want to cry. I was overwhelmed, confused, aroused, and most upsettingly, hopeful. This felt like something big. Surrounded by Bash, I felt like a different person—someone carefree and hedonistic. All of the dreams I had shut down for myself, locked away because I thought they weren’t meant for me, were trying to break through.
The prospect of a meaningful relationship, of belonging to someone, was a fire running through my veins, only to be iced out by the fear that it might mean nothing to Bash. That I had fallen into the cliché of developing feelings he couldn’t return. Mustering all the courage I had, I decided to be bold.
“What’s happening here, Bash? What is it you want from me?” I asked, knowing the discomfort of the conversation would save me endless nights of dissecting everything that was never said.
“Everything. I want everything from you, Fiona,” he said, shocking me. Gently, he cupped my face as he continued.
“Tell me what you’re worried about. Let’s get it all out now. We can take this as fast or as slow as you need. You’re in charge.”
Frustrated and still on the verge of tears, I surprised us both when I blurted out, “I don’t know whatthisis! I’m worried about all of it. You’re so far out of my league, Bash. I have no idea how to be what you need. I feel crazy for saying that because I don’t even know if you’re talking about a relationship or just looking for sex. Neither of which I’m a good candidate for, if you haven’t realized!” I yelled.
My heart was ramming against my chest, and since I was still seated in Bash’s lap, looking at his beautiful face was actually becoming painful. I tried to slide back, put some distance between us, but he wasn’t having any of it. Pulling me until I was tight against him, pressed together from the thighs up, he finally spoke.
