Brooke ripped the passenger side door open and climbed into the seat beside him.
“Good luck, cuz,” Ty yelled.
She slammed the door closed, cutting off Ty’s laughter, then buckled her seatbelt with exaggerated aggression. Had he not been so on edge, he’d have had to hold back his laughter at the way she didn’t even pretend she wasn’t pissed as hell at him. Once secure, she folded her arms and stared out the window.
They made the fifteen-minute trip to her house in heavy, tension-filled silence. Not once did she glance his way or shift her rigid posture.
Before he had the chance to fully brake in her driveway, she was out of the car and stomping to her front door.
Curly sighed. After the adrenalin-pumping fear he’d experienced less than thirty minutes ago, he wasn’t looking forward to an impending argument. Nevertheless, he walked up behind her just as she unlocked her door and pushed it open.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked as she whirled on him. “I did not invite you into my house.”
He cocked his head. “Does that mean you’re kidnapping my dog?”
Brooke blinked, clearly forgetting Harley had been hanging out with Ray while they’d been at the bar. As she stood there with a surprised expression, the dogs in question came barreling around the corner.
Both clambered to him first, begging for affection. Ray rolled onto his back and presented his belly for a rub which Curly gladly gave while Harley jumped up licked all over his face.
“Fine. Get your dog and go,” Brooke said.
Shit, even the sight of the dogs with him hadn’t softened her. This was going to take the big guns.
“Brooke,” he said to her back as she’d already started for her kitchen.
Her back remained stiff. “What?”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
Her shoulders slumped. After a few seconds, she turned and folded her arms across her luscious chest. “Say your piece and go. I want another beer and a swim in my pool. Originally I was going to ask you to join me, but now you are no longer invited to either.”
Damn, the woman was cruel. And cold. Tempt him with another glimpse of her in that sexy bikini, then rip it away.
He walked to her, accompanied by the dogs, who seemed oblivious to the tension in the room. When he reached her, her stubborn chin lifted, and her eyes shone with anger.
Brooke was prepared for battle.
And she’d never looked more beautiful. That fiery defiance made his dick harder than it’d been in years. He could only imagine what she’d do with all that passion in bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She blinked. “What?”
“I took my eyes off Prick for a minute, and Jinx texted to say he’d gone to the bathroom right after you did. I freaked the fuck out. Then when I saw him cornering you and you getting in his face, I lost my shit. But it’s no excuse for the way I barked at you. I’m sorry I was a dick to you.”
Watching her anger melt away, only to be replaced by confusion, made his heart ache. Brooke had been married to an asshole who’d belittled her, controlled her, and dominated her life.
He may not be a saint, but he wasn’t a motherfucker either. He was man enough to own it when he fucked up.
And hopefully, she just realized that.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“YOU’RE SORRY?”
He’s sorry?
He’d apologized?
Just like that?
Her head spun. Curly wasn’t exactly the type she’d have expected to own his mistakes without being forced to. He was a biker. An outlaw. Physically, there wasn’t anything soft about him, and she’d assumed it’d be the same emotionally.
But she was wrong.
“Yes.” He stepped even closer, wrapping those big, callused hands around her upper arms. She tried to keep from shivering in delight, but the feel of those fingers on her skin made her want to sink to her knees and show him just how good he made her feel.
Since when do you have thoughts like that?
“Yes. I’m sorry. Brooke, I’m a man. Not a little boy pretending to be a man. I’m big enough to admit when I fuck up. Can’t promise I won’t do it again, but I’ll try. And Brooke?”
“Yes?” Not only did the man apologize but he did a damn sincere and stellar job of it too. Who was he?
His face hovered close. Too close. So close she could smell his aftershave. Something she couldn’t describe with words, but it drew her like she was a fish he’d reeled in. So did the stubble lining his jaw. Goosebumps erupted all over as her disobedient mind imagine the scrape of that stubble on her skin. She’d never had that nor wanted it, yet suddenly it seemed like the most decadent experience she could have.
“I admire the fuck outta you. You’re strong, independent, and not afraid stand up to anyone. You’re as impressive as you are beautiful.”