“You didn’t have to make breakfast,”he told me, accepting the cup I offered him and drinking it black as Isuspected he would. He leaned against the counter, still shirtless, watching me.
I shrugged, “I don’t mind. You have asurprisingly well stocked fridge for a bachelor,” I commented with a teasinggrin as I flipped the pancakes I’d whipped up. I needed something to keep mefrom staring openly at his gorgeous torso. He really needed to put on a shirt.
He chuckled. “I like to eat,” he said,mischief in his eyes.
“Ah, I knew there had to be a reason.”I smiled wryly and put a heaping plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him ashe sat down at the bar.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” he askedafter swallowing his first, very large bite.
I shook my head and wrinkled my nose.“Not too hungry this morning. But I don’t typically eat a big breakfastanyway,” I said, sipping my coffee and turning to clean up the mess I’d made.
“Did you hear back from Kat?” heasked.
I nodded. “She texted me, she’s fine.We’ll meet back up at our place later and go from there,” I told him.
“How’d you two meet?” he asked. “Youseem really close,” he observed accurately.
I smiled and nodded in agreement. “Wemet at a coffee shop. She worked there at the time. I would go in every morningand she was so damned friendly.”
He laughed at my expression.
“And we just became friends,” I saidwith a shrug. I left out the part where I was going into the coffee shop becauseI had nowhere else to go, and I was desperate to get out of the flea bag motelI was staying in. I started working at the coffee shop along with her soonafter we met.
“Youworkin’today?” he asked.
I nodded. “Not till later though,” Isaid as I remembered that I told him briefly last night that I waited tables atJupiter.
“How about you?” I asked carefully. Wehad yet to delve into his line of work.
He shrugged. “I make my own hours, oneof the benefits of being in the family business,” he explained. I fought theurge to roll my eyes. I knew the aspects of “family business” all too well.
Not wanting to know more, I ignoredhis vague response and finished cleaning.
“Thanks, that was delicious,” he said,patting his firm stomach. “I can’t remember the last time someone cooked mebreakfast.”
My inner cynic rolled her eyes. I waspretty certain that Cole had his fair share of bedmates and I’d be surprised ifone or two of them didn’t try to charm him with breakfast now and then.
I felt mildly depressed at thethought. “Do you mind taking me home now?” I asked quietly.
He eyed me thoughtfully for a fewmoments before he nodded. “Let me just throw on some clothes.”
He emerged shortly after bearing thesame hoodie I’d worn the night before. “You’ll probably be more comfortablewearing this on the bike,” he explained.
“Thanks,” I said, appreciating thethought.
“I just have to swing by to givesomething to my Pop and then I’ll take you home,” he surprised me by saying.
I had no choice but to agree, I waspretty much at his mercy and he’d already done a lot for me. But meeting hisfather wasn’t high on my list of things I wanted to do, especially when I wastrying desperately to keep my distance from him.
We were soon pulling up to what Iassumed was the MC clubhouse. I was shocked that he would bring me here.Typically only old ladies hung around the club, or loose women who slept withthe bikers. I was neither, but I tried not to think much of it. I hadn’t beeninside a club since I’d left my father’s eight years ago when I turned eighteen.
“This’ll be quick,” he assured me ashe led me into the front room that smelled like leather, beer, and men. It tookmy eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the expansive room where everyshade was drawn, most likely to keep the heat out. Despite that effort, it waswarm, and I wished I could take the sweatshirt off that covered a large amountof my body. My eyes continued to span the room finding a fully stocked bar inthe right corner and a pool table sitting in the middle. There appeared to beoffices off to the left and I knew from experience that only seasoned clubmembers would occupy one of those. The floor was dark hardwood that squeakedunderfoot. The feel of the place along with its décor reminded me swiftly andreverently of home. I was shocked when a lump formed in my throat that Idesperately forced down. I missed my father every day, and this place remindedme so fiercely of him, it felt like he was about to walk through the door.
“Cole, that you?” a gruff voicehollered from an office to the right.
“Yah, Pop,” Cole called back.
An older man emerged who bore astriking resemblance to Cole. His hair was grayer and he had the telltale linesof age surrounding his face, but his eyes were the same bright blue. His grayinghair was held back in a long ponytail. He had a mustache and a goatee thatsuited his handsome face.
