Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)
Page 30
“Not a morning person, eh?” said Saks. “It’s six AM. I’ve got to open the shop by 7:30.”
“I should go.” She wanted to get to the hospital to check on her father, but she wanted to contact the New York office on her way, too. She scanned the floor for her clothes but didn’t see them. Her eyes widened as she remembered last night and Saks and her on the pool table.
She’d never look at Eight-Ball the same way again.
Did she leave her clothes out there?
“Looking for something?” he said.
“My clothes.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I thought I’d hide them to keep you from running off again. We have things to talk about.”
“Like what?”
He handed her a cup of coffee and sat next to her on the bed. “I was serious last night. I want us to get married. It occurred to me you said yes to the making love part, but not the marriage part. So, I want to get that nailed down.”
“Saks,” she said with exasperation as she clung to the mug.
“Don’t tell me you don’t love me. Not when you screamed it so loud last night it nearly shattered my eardrums.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Yes, she’d done that. “I do love you, Saks.”
“Good.”
“But marriage...”
“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
“But your family, my family—”
“Look, they can either be happy for us, or we’ll get married and honeymoon in the Bahamas without them.”
“It’s not that simple. As long as the men who shot you are in the wind there will always be suspicion and distrust between our families, and worse than before. Our families will declare us traitors.”
Saks shrugged. “I don’t care. Like I said, either they’ll support us or not. Chrissy, you’re my family. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that.”
Chrissy stared at Saks. For a man who had grease under his fingernails and wore a tattered leather jacket, he had a romantic side no one would suspect.
He took a sip of his coffee.
“But for the children, we’ll need that piece of paper.”
“Children?” Her voice cracked. She wasn’t even prepared to talk about marriage, let alone children. He moved pretty damn fast.
“I’m a traditional man, sweetheart. I’m not one of those guys who fucks around and then picks up the child support later. It’s you, me, and the white picket fence. Wherever you want. With my qualifications I can get work anyplace in the country, and I have some money saved, enough for down payment on a house.”
“Sounds like you thought of everything,” she said with a chill in her voice. She didn’t come as far as she had to have a man tell her what to do, not even Saks. All her life, Chrissy had tried to avoid having a man rush in and decide her life.
“Is there a problem?”
Chrissy put her cup on the nightstand and stood suddenly. “Yes.”
“What?”
“You.”
“Me?”