The sun had been down several hours when we rolled into the driveway in Richmond, Virginia. It had been a long ride, but with the way Cat was acting, the sooner we got to Sheila’s condo, the better.
I pull the bike around back toward the guest house and shut off the engine.
“What is this place?” Cat eases off the bike.
It’s the first thing she’s said to me since dumping sugar over my head at the diner. I’ll take it as a win.
“A friend’s house,” I stow the helmets and grab the clothes out of the saddlebags.
“Does this friend have a name?”
“Yep,” I grin and turn toward the guest house porch. I set the bags down to punch in the door code. The lock blinks green, and I hear a click as the door unlocks and swings open. “After you.”
Cat narrows her eyes but slowly enters the main floor. She looks around at the open-concept living/dining/kitchen area. A set of stairs are off to the side, heading up to the second-floor bedrooms.
She walks over to the fridge and peeks inside. It’s stocked with supplies and provisions for the next week if we need it. I also know the pantry will be chock-full of dry goods and ammunition.
Cat turns back to me, folding her arms over her chest. “A friend?”
I shrug and set the bags down on the kitchen island. “Friend.”
“A friend just lets you borrow -his- guest house for a while?”
She’s fishing for information. But, the less she knows, the better.
“Whatever,” she grabs a bag of clothes and heads toward the stairs. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself useful and cook something.”
I bite back a smile as I watch her stomp upstairs. I expect a few slammed doors when she gets there, but I’m wrong again. Cat may be mad at me, but she’s not going to take it out on someone else’s house.
She’s respectful like that.
And there’s that warm feeling again, spreading out from my chest. I chuckle and grab my bag of clothing. I’ll shower in the main house and pick up something a little more respectable for my partner.
???
I’m almost finished with dinner when Cat eases into the kitchen. She’s wearing yoga pants and an oversized gray T-shirt. I stop what I’m doing to gape at her.
She plucks the neckline of the shirt. “I think I got some of your stuff.”
I nod. There was no way I was making her change. Even though I had never worn that T-shirt before, I liked seeing her wearing my clothes. I clear my throat. “Dinner’s about ready. You want to eat at the table or the island?”
She smiles. “I’m wearing pajamas. I think we can eat at the island.”
“Works for me,” I point to the cabinet next to the dishwasher. “Grab plates out of there, if you don’t mind. We’ll dish up the food right here in the kitchen.”
Cat slides over the tile floor toward the cabinet, brushing up against my back as she goes. My cock immediately snaps to attention as if he’s ready for inspection. I bite my lip to focus on anything else but the soft curves of her body.
“Those don’t look like your average biker babe clothing,” Cat points at my gray sweatpants.
“They’re not,” I turn off the stove and begin dishing up the food.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Where did they come from?”
I shrug. “I keep some clothing here.”
Her eyes widen, and she sits down at the island. “Oh.”
I frown. “Oh. What?”
