“I’ll send you a photograph when it’s done.”
This time, when I smile, I realize I want more of that forever she mentioned than I care to admit.
24
KNOX
It’s funny how quickly you can get used to being a liar. And I’m shocked at how quickly I’ve adapted to knowing I am one. Lies usually rub right up against my moral code. But when it comes to Maren, all bets are off.
Did I have a flutter of guilt, telling my men I was headed home for a good night’s sleep in my own bed? Sure. Because Havoc and Vandal had looked at me with concern. Like I might need the down time. They’d told me to sleep well, that they’d cover anything I needed so I can sleep in.
And sure, there was a second wave when Ridge offered to ride with me to make sure I was protected on the way home, and I told him I wanted the space. I had to head off in the wrong direction and do a huge loop about town because he watched me pull out of the gate and would have been confused and concerned once he saw me go in the opposite direction to the one I should be heading.
But as I lock my bike up in the boathouse in almost darkness, I’m not sorry. Because despite telling myself to not get attached to Maren, I’ve been thinking about her most of the day.
I pull all the groceries I bought on the way here from the saddle bags on the bike. It might have been easier to bring everything in my truck, but that would have been a darn sight harder to hide around the back of the store.
With my supplies in hand, I walk over to the stairs up to the small apartment. When Maren first said we should meet here, I had contradicting feelings. It’s crass, but I want this to be something we just get out of our system, and I want it to be secret. But when Maren treated it the same way and told me we couldn’t meet in the apartment above the store, the one with proper windows, it felt…wrong. Cheap, maybe. I don’t know.
And somehow, this place, with its abject practicality and lack of charm, is still…ours.
I knock on the door at the top of the stairs.
“It’s open,” Maren calls out.
I push the door wide. “You shouldn’t be leaving doors unlocked with everything going on.”
She points to the small unit connected to the exterior cameras. “I knew it was you, but I appreciate the concern.”
I put the bags by the sink. “Come here and say hello properly.”
Maren surprises me by jumping into my arms when she gets to me, and I hold her tightly to me as our lips meet. She tastes like something cherry as she cups either side of my head and throws herself into the kiss with the same enthusiasm she jumped into my arms.
And a happy Maren is a damn nice thing to come home…to walk into.
“Did you have a good day?” she asks finally.
“Better now,” I admit.
“What’s in the bags?” she asks as I slip my hands beneath the hem of her sundress and stroke my palms over her ass.
“You said you wanted it to feel like a date. And seeing I can’t ask if you want to join me for drinks at a bar, I brought the fixings for those whiskey sours I mentioned.”
“Yum,” she says, wiggling down. “Can I help make them?”
“This is supposed to be something nice for you. Sit and talk to me and look pretty while I get busy.”
She straightens her sundress. “You like it?”
I check out the way the hem dances over her thighs. A momentary vision fills my head. One of me bending her over the small table, pushing that dress up over her ass, and I could?—
“I love it.” I force myself to stop thinking about how good it would feel to be inches deep in her.
She smiles as she sits on the chair, and I put a jar of olives and some little picks to get them out with on the table.
“Thank you.” She takes the jar and attempts to open it. Her sweet face rumples up in frown lines as she tries.
“Give it to me.” She’s too slow, or too persistent, can’t decide which, so I take it from her and crack it on the first try.
