“Why don’t you come up for the weekend?” he suggested. “You could drive up tomorrow and stay at the clubhouse with me.”
“I was going to go see my mam, and tell her what happened with my boss,” I explained.
He dipped his chin, his stare never leaving mine. “Can’t you do both?”
My smile widened. “I don’t see why not.”
“It’s a plan then?”
“Yeah, honey,” I murmured. “It’s a plan.”
Pagan’s hand dropped, and he disappeared into the bedroom, reappearing a minute later wearing a sweatshirt, with his boots in one hand and a backpack in the other. He sat on my couch and pulled his boots on before getting to his feet to shrug on his leather jacket. “You gonna be okay,Dubheasa?”
I grabbed the scarf he put on me earlier and stepped forward to wind it around his neck while he put on a pair of gloves. “Yeah. I’m going straight to bed. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
Pagan swiped a leather-clad thumb across my lip. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. “Ride safe. It’s icy out there.”
“Been ridin’ in all weathers since I was eighteen, babe. Know what I’m doin’.” He leaned down and brushed my lips with his before grabbing his bag, turning, and making for the door. “Lock up after me.” He gave me a loose, one-finger salute, opened the door, and was gone.
The soft click of the latch echoed around my suddenly empty apartment. My chest tightened with low-key embarrassment at how let down I felt by a man I’d only known for a handful of days.
The air seemed to bear down on my shoulders, and suddenly it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Ten minutes ago, Pagan was feeding me from his plate and telling me about his life, and now, his absence felt like a physical, tangible thing.
It was too easy for me to act like I was fine with him leaving and that I didn’t care; after all, I’d had a lot of practice lately.
—————
I thoughtI was dreaming when I felt the mattress dip.
An arm snaked over my waist as a firm body pressed against my back, and my heart thumped hard against my ribcage. Then I caught a scent of citrusy, spicy cologne, and I knew who it was.
Pagan.
“Got to Boulder and turned back,” he whispered before kissing my shoulder softly. “Didn’t wanna leave you.”
“What about the club?” I asked sleepily.
“Spoke to Castle. He can deal.”
My belly warmed. “You need me to get you anything?”
“No, baby, just need you to go to sleep. We’ve got an early start.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my eyes already fluttering closed.
I felt an open brush of lips on my shoulder blade and then a contented, throaty growl as his bare hand skimmed the skin of my stomach.
It was crazy how far I’d fallen in so little time.
Gone was the good Catholic girl who adored her daddy and was desperate to make her mammy happy, and in her place was a woman who let an outlaw biker invade her bed, her life, and her heart.
He cradled me against his chest, and I sighed happily before murmuring, “Goodnight, Pagan.”
“Aiden,” he said huskily. “My name’s Aiden.”
“Aiden,” I repeated softly, testing out the feel of it on my tongue and finding I liked it immensely.
