King's Reign (Sydney Storm MC 6)

He drank some of his coffee before answering my question. “Our foster mother died when she was eight. She came to live with me after that.”

This gave me an insight into their relationship that had been missing before. It was a piece of the puzzle that made up King. And goodness, it revealed so much about the man sitting across from me. “How old were you?” My guess was he couldn’t have been much past twenty, which if true, amazed me even further.

“Twenty-three.”

“So you were her father figure,” I murmured, my mind spinning at this new information about King. He’d done for his foster sister what my own father hadn’t done for me, and I had so much respect for him for that.

He glanced around the café, seemingly uncomfortable with this conversation. “You could say that.”

I drank some of my milkshake, a smile dancing across my face.

At my smile, he said, “What?”

I picked up the Oreo biscuit from my drink. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, where you don’t wanna discuss something. I kinda like it, because it shows me a different side to you.”

His intense expression returned. “What kind of side?”

“You’re always so in control and demanding and directing the conversation and what we do. But here, just now, you let your guard down for a bit and you allowed me

to run the conversation.” I leant forward, my gaze pinned to his. “And even though you didn’t seem completely comfortable talking about that time in your life, you still answered my question and shared something personal with me. You showed me a little bit of vulnerability, and I liked that.”

He remained guarded for a couple of moments longer before giving me something unexpected. “Our foster mother was the only mother we each had worth a damn. There was no fucking way I was putting Skye back into the foster system when Margreet died, so I raised her like she was my own child. She gave me far more than I ever gave her.”

I reached my hand across the table and covered his. “That’s the blessing of children, and if parents are too fucking stupid to cherish that or their children, they don’t deserve them.”

He glanced down at my hand over his before meeting my gaze again and nodding. “That’s the fucking truth.”

We stayed like that for a beat before I pulled my hand away. To me, we’d shared something meaningful, and I hoped it meant something to King, too.

“So,” I said, “changing the subject, how often do you get out for a ride?” It was the lightest thing I could think of asking him. I had so many other subjects to broach with him, but I didn’t want to throw them all at him today. I figured with a man like King, who didn’t like to talk a hell of a lot, I had only a small window of opportunity to get him to open up here, so I ran with the option I felt he’d be most willing to discuss.

He drank some more of his coffee. “Not fucking often enough lately. Used to be weekly, but not these days.”

“Well, just so you know, I’m up for a ride again whenever you want to get out. I loved it.”

Heat flickered in his eyes. “I plan on getting you on that bike soon.”

Lust whooshed through me, because I was fairly sure King wasn’t referring to a long bike ride. “That sounds like fun.”

He arched a brow. “Fun?” It was a growl. A sexy-as-fuck growl.

I grinned and changed the subject again. Otherwise, this was about to go down a path that would get both of us worked up in ways we didn’t have time to take care. “So who introduced you to your first bike?”

He moved from subject to subject with ease. Something else I liked about him. “The father of one of my schoolmates had a Harley and taught us how to ride. I was seventeen and fucking obsessed with bikes after that. He had his own business fixing bikes and taught us how to fix them and rebuild them.” His eyes lit up as he continued. “There’s nothing like getting your hands dirty and losing your time to a bike. I worked for him for years, learning from him and saving cash so I could buy parts. Built my first bike when I was nineteen.”

“And your second?”

The smile in his eyes couldn’t be mistaken. “Six months after that.”

“How many have you built since then?”

His eyes dulled a little. “Two.” He drank some coffee. “Life got in the way.”

My phone rang, and I pulled it out to see it was Mum calling. And just like that, I was thrown back into real life. My distraction from worry ended.

“Hey, Ma,” I answered.

“Lily! Brynn is awake! Hurry and come back!”