Page 59 of The Biker and the Loner
The fucker is up and out of the restaurant before I can even think to launch my beer bottle at his head.
Toni and I will be having words real soon.
~
After another long, energy-leeching day of putting time in with the club, I’m tired and hungry and missing my woman. I haven't heard from her since I left this morning, but it feels like it's been longer. Sent her a couple of messages throughout the day, but she’s yet to respond to any of them. Feels like a brick’s been sitting on my stomach for the past eight hours.
It’s not until I pull up to our home and see her dad’s Rover in the driveway that I realize what’s had me so uneasy and missing her all day—that she’d run back to Cherry Hills Village.
As I dismount my motorcycle and trudge up the driveway, I spot Cookie on the steps of her porch, watering her hanging plants.
Flipping my keys around my finger, I tell her, "You’ve got a big mouth, you know that, woman?"
"Yup, I do," she admits without apology, a blunt tucked in the corner of her mouth. "I spill a lot of truths. Which one are you mad about today?"
With a chuckle, I shake my head and leave her where she's at. A delicious aroma hits me as soon as I open the door.
I dumped my keys and helmet on the side table and jaunt down the short hall until I spot her in the kitchen across the expansive open-plan space, cooking up a storm while Spanish music spills from a small Bluetooth speaker on the island.
She doesn't notice me yet, so I prop my shoulder to the wall and watch her. Her hot-pink sleeveless crop-top and white shorts cling to her curves like a second skin, her long, inky-black hair pulled back in a low ponytail, gold hoops dangling from her ears.
She’s truly the most beautiful, voluptuous, downright aesthetically perfect woman I’ve ever seen. She’s it. She’ssoit.
If she'll allow it,thisis what I want for the rest of my life. To come home to her, in our kitchen, looking like a dream as she gyrates her hips to songs I don't understand while preparing dinner for our family.
It’s damn near inconceivable that Leyana Oliveros is even here with me right now. It had never seemed possible. I've wanted her for as long as I’ve known her.Always. But not only did she attach herself to Grunt like Velcro, I knew she was far out of my league and could do much, much better than a piece of shit like me.
Having her the way I do now is nothing short of a miracle. And I’m scared shitless to lose her.
Pushing off from the wall, I stalk through the living room.
Her head whips up from where she's chopping okras on a cutting board and she gives me the biggest, happiest grin.
She’s happy.
To see me.
And damn if it doesn’t shoot straight to my heart, leaving me all whipped and melted inside. This stunning, amazing, flawless creature is happy to see me.Me. What universe is this? How? How do I deserve her?
"Hey you," she greets.
I doff my jacket and toss it over one of the bar stools, before rounding the island to her. Sidling up behind her, I loop my arms around her waist and breathe contentedly as her warmth seeps into my pores.
"Babe..." I drop my chin to her shoulder. "You've ignored me all day."
"I know." She sighs contritely. "I was just sort of in a mood, you know. But I'm feeling better now."
"Her?"
"I’m worried about her," she admits. "But I know you won't understand, so..."
I hate that bitch. I want to kill that bitch. That’s what you don’t understand.
Beating back my anger, I rub my hands up and down her shoulders while she continues to chop away on the cutting board. "Am I pissed you allowed it to go on for this long, Peach? Hell yeah, I am. But I don't want you to ever feel like you can't talk to me about it. You can. I might be a rough sonuvabitch, but I care about you. Deeply. And I'll slay your dragons for you." I dribble a string of kisses up the soft curve of her neck. "You can always talk to me, alright?"
Her shoulders relax under my touch. "Okay."
"You want me to go check on her for you?" As much as I hate the woman, I would. Because she means something to Leyana.
