"Yes, I did. Thank you for the clothes." She lifted her arm with the sweater she’d rolled up three times at the cuffs just to make it fit her.
"Thought you could do with something clean. I'll send one of the girls to get whatever else you need. Did you make that list?"
“No..I. I took a shower and forgot. You don’t have to get me clothes.”
“Unless you’re thinkin’ of running around naked, Icy, you’re gonna be needin’ clothes. Write a list of the things you want for now and then in a few days when shit dies down I’ll run you into town to buy the rest.” Zara’s face heated.
He said it so simply. Zara frowned confused at his generosity, unsure of his angleifhe had one. She tipped her head back to meet his stare.
“Babe. I can hear you thinkin’. It’s just clothes.” Reaching around her, Zara flinched expecting the worse.
What she got was a cup of coffee held out in his large hand.
A dangerous look on his face, he’d caught her reaction.
She grasped it automatically, inhaling the steam from the top of the hot drink, avoiding his stare. “Thank you.”
She’d still been a captive only a day ago, excuse her for thinking the fucking worst. In fact, she turned a scowl up at him to tell him just that, only he got in first by saying.
“Drink, babe. Tiny is gonna make you some eggs and toast, throw some bacon in a pan for her, too, Tiny.”
“You got it, Prez.” He winked at Zara.Tiny. She turned her head to where the guy in question was stood at the stove cracking eggs into a glass dish, he added pepper and salt and whisked them using only the thickness of the biggest wrist she’d ever seen. There was nothing tiny about that man, he was practically scraping the ceiling with his dark shaggy head.
Her eyes rounded. “He’s big…”
Several laughed. “Fuckin’ huge, but he makes a mean breakfast. Come on, bring your cup, while you wait for the grub I’ma show you around the club.” the gesture took her by surprise when he grabbed hold of her hand.
Not the lacing fingers kind of hand holding, it was palm to palm, his fingers wrapped around hers gently guiding as if it was nothing for him to do.
Meanwhile, in another dimension, Zara choked around a mouthful of sweet coffee.Ohhh… She thought through a tsunami of panic filling her head, making breathing choppy. She occupied her mouth by gulping the hot coffee.
His palm was rough…warm, enveloping hers so gently it was the sweetest sign she'd had in a long time. Her eyes tracked down to their locked hands.
A handsome man was grasping her hand sweetly in his warm fingers.
Touchingher kindly.
Rider had been the man of her dreams for such a long time. The man she’d used as a beacon of hope when she’d needed an escape, she’d find him deep in the caverns of her mind where she could hide and wait out whatever was going on at the time.
And now he was holding her hand.
Sweet Jiminy Cricket.
Don’t panic.Don’t panic!
Certainly, don’t whimper.
The noise was right there in the back of her throat just waiting to discharge like a fucking loud cannon, confetti paper included.
Aw hell, who was she kidding? She wanted to squeal and plaster it all over Facebook a handsome man was holding her hand.
A badass handsome biker man.
Hand-holding didn’t seem like a typical outlaw move and Zara reacted accordingly, letting her fingers sit within his. It would have been a show of disrespect in front of his boys had she tore her hand back and she didn't want to do that, she knew how to keep a happy medium, to skirt under the radar of pissing someone off.
But the warmth his much bigger hand offered felt nice and right, another linked thread to her safety shown in the simplest of ways, so she slid her hand deeper into his and squeezed.
He squeezed back.