Page 27 of My Reckless Biker

"You're saying you trust me now?" she asks.

"I'm saying the suspicion is gone. I'm saying I don't think you're lying. I'm saying when I look at you I'm not doing tactical assessment anymore."

"What are you doing?"

"Wanting you. Worrying about you. Feeling protective in ways that make me reckless if I'm not careful."

She reaches up and her hand settles on my chest, palm flat over my heart, and I can feel the touch burn through my shirt even in the August heat.

"When you come back, I'll be here,” she says quietly. "Tonight, tomorrow, whenever my father comes, I'm staying exactly where I am. You don't have to worry about that."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"Because you would've run already if you were going to. Because you told me in your room last night that you want him to fail when he comes for you. Because you just said good when I told you we're killing Dutch and you meant it. You're not running. You're here. And that matters."

Her hand is still on my chest and I cover it with mine, holding it there, feeling her pulse under my palm where her wrist rests.

We're standing in the yard in full view of anyone who looks out a window and I don't care. Last night I kissed her like I meant it. This morning Ray's in the hospital with his face destroyed and tonight I'm going to retaliate and everything feels urgent, compressed, like time is running out and I need her to know this is real before something happens that makes it too late.

"When I get back tonight," I say, "we're going to talk about what this is. About what happens next. About the fact that kissing you wasn't strategy and I can't keep pretending it was."

"I'll be here."

I lift her hand from my chest and press my mouth against her knuckles briefly, rough kiss that's more promise than affection, and I see her eyes go wide.

Then I let go and step back because if I don't step back now I'm going to pull her against me and kiss her properly and my brothers are inside planning violence and I need to not be doing this in the yard where everyone can see how compromised I've become.

"Stay inside," I say. "Stay safe."

"You too."

I head back toward the clubhouse and I can feel her watching me, can feel the weight of her eyes on my back, and when I reach the door I look back and she's still standing there with her hand pressed to her chest where mine just was.

Inside, brothers are gearing up even though we've got hours before we move, the activity a way to channel the tension. I head upstairs to my room and close the door and sit on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands.

Ray's in the hospital with permanent damage.

Tonight I'm going after the man who put him there.

And I just told Sienna I want her safe for reasons that have nothing to do with the arrangement, which is the most honest thing I've said to anyone in years and also the most dangerous because wanting her means I'm compromised, means I'm making decisions based on something other than tactical reality.

But I can't stop wanting her.

Can't stop noticing the curve of her hips when she walks, the way her body feels pressed against mine, the intelligence in her eyes when she looks at me like she's trying to solve a puzzle.

Can't stop thinking about that kiss last night and the way she responded, the way she kissed me back like she'd been waiting for it, like she wanted it as much as I did.

Something fundamental has shifted between yesterday and today.

Yesterday I was still watching her for signs she was lying.

Today the suspicion is gone and what's left is want and worry and the beginning of something I don't have words for yet.

Something that might be trust or might be the thing that comes after trust when you've decided someone's worth the risk of everything.

I don't know what to call it.