I’m attracted to him as I suspect many women are. He’s ridiculously handsome and kind. Not once have I caught him looking at Harley like he wishes he’d just disappear so he could get me alone, and believe me, I’ve been waiting to catch him do just that. Men say a lot of things and then get caught acting differently.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror hanging on the living room wall, and I see some of that guilt I can’t manage to fully let go of. Maybe it’s a mom thing. Harley likes him, and that makes me happy, but I don’t want to be too happy. I don’t want to lose sight of what’s most important. I don’t want to get lost in a man and make bad decisions. I did that with Robbie and my life went off the rails.
Maybe this is just a little fun. No one said it had to be serious, but if that’s the case, then I’ve already made the mistake of letting Harley get close. He asked last night after his bath when Micah was coming back over. Of course, I didn’t mention that he was coming to see me today. I wasn’t about to explain why he’d visit me alone in the middle of the day. I find myself frowning at the thought of whatever this is with him not going anywhere because I really like this guy.
I don’t have any more time to worry about it because the roar of his motorcycle filters in from the street, and that same anticipation that kept me from sleeping last night ramps back up to full force.
I resist the urge to open the door and meet him on the porch. I’m eager, but I don’t want to come across as too anxious. I can’t seem to get my trembling hands on the same page.
The motorcycle engine stops, and the silence is deafening. The pause between as I wait for the sound of his boots on my front porch as anticipatory as that three-minute wait after taking that first pregnancy test. Although I was expecting it, I still jolt when the knock comes.
“Hi,” I whisper shyly when I open the door.
The man is huge, his leather-clad bearded body taking up nearly the entire doorway as he smiles down at me.
“Mornin’, sweetheart.”
He doesn’t advance on me. His eyes skate up and down my body, and I wonder exactly how he sees my leggings and over-sized sweater. I’m not wearing shoes, only fuzzy socks. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, and I knew we weren’t leaving the house.
“You going to stand out there all day?”
“You going to invite me in?” he challenges, his blue eyes sparkling with humor.
“What happens when you get in here?”
“Anything you want.”
“Harley has Uno.”
He grins.
“Or we could take a nap.”
His smile grows. “I’m a great cuddler.”
“Yeah?”
“Only one condition. I have to be the big spoon.”
“Of course,” I tell him.
“And I can’t nap in jeans.”
“I’d want you to be comfortable.”
“I go commando.”
I grin. “I do, too.”
His eyes drop to the apex of my thighs.
“My jeans are really uncomfortable right now, sweetheart.” His right hand comes down and adjusts the front of his jeans, and there’s something seriously sexy with the sight of him doing that in riding leathers, that area framed by them as if keeping it on display.
“You should come inside and take them off.” I step to the side and hold the door open wider.
He doesn’t waste a second stepping inside my house. Nor does he miss a beat wrapping his arm around me and lowering his mouth to mine. The restrained man that was here last night isn’t the same man that enters today. One hand is on my ass. The other shoves the doors closed and flips the lock into place.
I feel silly when he lifts me off my feet, but that doesn’t stop me from wrapping my legs around his waist as he carries me to my room. He doesn’t have to ask where it is. There are only three doors down the short hallway and since he used the restroom yesterday and Harley’s door is always open, it’s a simple deduction.
My room is plain, the sheets and comforter bought on clearance from the Dollar Store. Decorations are minimal, but I get the feeling this man isn’t worried about any of it, and even if he were, he’s not the type to worry about things like that.
“You’re so overdressed,” I mutter against his mouth, my fingers unable to reach the zipper on his freezing cold leather jacket.
“It’s cold outside.” His lips are on my neck, his beard abrading my skin in the best way. “Don’t want to put you down.”
“Just for a minute. Let me help.”
I wiggle until he releases me, chuckling when he looks desolate at not having his hands on me.