Page 9 of Wicked Wishes
Hell, I might regret it but tonight I don’t care. Not when my daughter already adores her as much as I do.
It may be scary but I kind of like how being scared with her feels.
Chapter Six
Hanna
Tonight is going to be a spooky spectacular.
Halloween is two weekends away and I have pumpkins to carve, boo-tiful baubles to hang, and scary sweets to bake. And I have my favorite little helper here to help me get it done. It is my second weekend sitting for Hope but my first where she will be at my place instead of Harley’s.
I went to their place twice last week—at least once I suspect was more for Harley than for Hope. He lingered that night, telling me he had work to do but instead hanging with us for a few hours. We watched a five-year-old friendly scary movie, made ghost shaped rice crispy treats that she had a blast decorating with colorful icing and candy eyes, and talked about what she wants to dress up as for Halloween.
“That is too bad, little monster,” Harley had argued against her choice—Michael Meyers with bloody knife and all.
“Why not? He is so cool,” she shot back with glee, stuffing her cute little face with a rice-crispy treat.
“He is a bit dark and violent for you yet, I think,” I chimed in, siding with dad, and winning a grin of approval from him.
My input mattered to both of them. We talked about it as if I somehow had a place in her choice. When I suggested a creepy doll and even offered to do her makeup for her, she got so excited. No blood or gore but still creepy enough to satisfy her dark little heart. Harley shot me a look when she pranced out of the room to get our movie started. Flushing beneath that heated look, I started to follow her, but he pulled me back.
“Thank you,” he whispered, standing close behind me and pressing his words to my neck, “I am no good at somethings with her. Seems to come naturally to you. Do you want kids, sweets?”
“Yeah, I do. I want to get married and have as many kids as my husband will let me,” I closed my eyes as he kissed my neck, his thick arm winding around my waist.
“You would look good being a mama,” he muttered, his lips at my ear, “being soft and round with a child.” His hand passed over my tummy and I groaned, rubbing myself against him as I felt him press against my backside.
“You want to see me pregnant by someone?” I taunted, knowing full well he just what he meant—soft and round with his child.
“Don’t push me, Hanna,” he growled, yanking me against him so hard my breath punched out and I almost laughed, “be careful with that mouth of yours. Keep talking to me that way, Iwill show youwhat I want to see.”
His teeth nipped at my neck, and he licked the mark he left there, and I moaned softly. But then his big body was gone. That night at the pizza place, he started crossing lines between us. Lines he put in place when I first started flirting months ago. Ones meant to protect himself—and now I know to protect his little girl.
Harley lost the woman he had planned a life with. The person he had spent most of his youth with, who knew his friends, his family, how he liked his coffee, and what his favorite desert was. And then he had to raise their daughter alone.
Thinking about him dealing with that loss alone, it makes my heart ache for him. He has given me so little of himself since we met and yet he has become my person. Even if he doesn’t want to be. And I want to be his person too—and maybe Hope’s too.
Between the flirting he allows, there is more beneath the surface between us.I know it.I feel it when he looks at me. When he lets me touch him or he gives in and touches me. Now that I have spent time with his daughter, I know the biker badass I met has more layers to him. He adores his little girl and would give her anything—even if what she wants scares him.
It is a crisp Friday, and I am killing time downtown before I head home for a night in with Hope. Harley has work to do in Crystal Cove, so I planned a special night for us. With just a few more weeks to go before Halloween—myvery favoriteholiday—I am browsing the shops, seeking ways to spook up my place. I want all the littles on the block to be blown away. I think a certain hot and handy fella could be talked into helping.
“More work for me, sweets,” his voice booms, startling me until I nearly drop the cute ghosts in my hands.
There he stands, hands on his hips as he fills up the space like always. In black leather and ripped jeans, he looks like he ought to be on the cover of a biker romance not here in the Hobby Hutch. His eyes glitter beneath the dim lights of the country store and they drop to my mouth. Without hesitation he reaches out to touch me, his rough hands brushing over my throat, tipping my head back so I am forced to meet his gaze.
“Fancy meeting you here, handsome,” I murmur, turning my head so my lips brush over his wrist, “you don’t need to stalk me to see me.”
Harley lowers his head and lets out a growl, fingers flexing on my skin. Our eyes hold as we stand there surrounded by cute pumpkins and cuter skeletons. I close my eyes as his cinnamon and burnt wood scent fills my lungs.Christ, he smells good.I feel the brush of his leather on my skin, and I take a step closer, wanting to be wrapped up in him. Just as my body nestles against his firm chest, he backs away, and cold curls around me.
“Get used to it,” he rasps as his eyes trail over me, so palpable with need the gaze feels as if he reached out and touched me.
“Don’t think I was complaining. You can hide in the shadows and keep your eyes on me all you want. Kind of hot thinking about you watching me when I don’t know it,” I purr, watching his eyes darken.
Before I can regret being so forward, he eats up the space between us in two big steps. His big hand wraps around my throat and he yanks me against his body. We share the same air for a moment, spicy and warm, and my eyes flutter closed as I tip my head back. I think he wants to kiss me just to shut me up, but I will take it. Anything to feel the press of his mouth on mine.
“You never behave, do you?” he grunts but I know it’s not a complaint either.
“Do you want me to be good for you, Harley?” I tease, rubbing against him a little, not caring that we’re standing in the middle of Hobby Hutch.
