Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)
Page 8
“Whoa darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you, just saw you with an arm full of bags and those are dangerous looking shoes to be carrying that amount of stuff on,” he explained gazing down at my (fabulous) shoes. His gaze traveled up my jean clad legs to my top, which I now decided showed way too much of my modest chest. He finished at my eyes, and we stared at each other. His gaze was hungry and very male. I was mesmerized for a moment and felt an ache between my thighs, I snapped myself out of it. Quickly. I didn’t need a man in my life, and definitely not a man like this.
“Well, thanks for your concern but I’m very capable of unpacking my car by myself, and for your information, I could run a marathon in these shoes,” I replied sharply.
A full on grin lit up Thor’s evil twin’s face, and he looked down at various bags strewn between us then back up at me.
“It’ll be much faster if I help. I’m not the kind of man to leave a woman in need and I’m also a sucker for an accent,” he said flirtatiously.
His voice was rough and threatened to make me spontaneously combust. I really hoped he couldn’t see my nipples through my shirt. The man was some kind of crazy sex wizard. He stepped forward and I slammed back into my car. My heart pounded at my rib cage, anxiety replacing the lust I was feeling moments ago. He noticed my reaction and immediately stopped in his tracks, a frown marred his beautiful face.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told me carefully, eyes connecting with mine.
“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t need any help, and if you don’t mind I have a lot to do.” My voice shook as I dismissed him.
He continued to frown at me; I felt uncomfortable under his dark gaze. This guy was intense.
“Okay then if you’re sure. I’m Cade by the way. I’ll be seeing you round,” he promised.
Not if I see you first.
He paused for a moment, eyes still locked with mine before he turned, strutting (okay maybe not strutting but how can a man move his ass like that without strutting. I swear he’s a wizard) over to a black SUV across the road before I could reply. It was only then I noticed the cut, one that was far too familiar. It had a different insignia on the back. A skeleton, riding a Harley, brandishing a sword. The top rocker read: ‘Sons of Templars MC’. I braced myself against my car once again, struggling to stay up. My breathing was shallow as I tried to chase away the horrible memories I had of men wearing vests just like that one. You’re fine Gwen, he didn’t hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. I took a second to pull myself together before I began to pick up my bags scattered along the ground. I squinted up to see Cade who was sitting in his truck and had witnessed my whole meltdown. I quickly peered down again and heard his truck drive off.
I was at my store the next day, trying to sort through all my merchandise, humming to myself, delightfully content. Apart from my little incident with Cade, yesterday was a great day. I managed to get all my unpacking done and spend a wonderful night in my beautiful new home. I smiled to myself, thinking of how settled in I felt already. My speakers played Bob Dylan, his voice weaving through the air, contributing to my feeling of zen. I looked up when the little bell over the doors rang, Amy leaned against the frame with a huge smile painted on her face.
“Jesus fuck Gwen, I think I may like it here. I just went to grab us coffees from next door,” she said, gesturing with the two takeaway cups in her hands, “and there was the most fuckable looking men sitting having coffee. I swear I almost came. What I would do to be those coffee cups…” She trailed off, sounding breathy.
“I’m glad there’s something in this town that is to your liking Amy,” I stated sarcastically.
She set the coffees down and hugged me, enveloping me in a cloud of Chanel no 5.
“I’m glad to be here Gwennie, anything to help you get back to your old self.” Her eyes glistened.
“No, we are not having sad or depressing thoughts in my wonderful new store, or our wonderful new home for that matter,” I instructed. “We are starting fresh and there will be no mention of the dickwad, evil prick, okay?”
“Sounds good to me girl, now let’s get this place sorted, go home, get changed and go see if we can find somewhere to get a half decent cocktail,” Amy replied.
I gave her a blinding smile. This was why she was my best friend.
“Don’t you think we’re a bit too dressed up?” I questioned Amy, looking down at my outfit self-consciously. I had a tight printed Prada skirt on with a white blouse that showed way too much cleavage and Amy’s black strappy Manolos.
“Bite your tongue Gwen Alexandra,” Amy scolded. “There is no such thing as being overdressed. Ever. You are not changing who you are just because we’re not on our little island anymore, now let’s go.” She swatted my bum, strutting past me to the door.
Her outfit made me look like a nun. Her little black Gucci dress was halter neck, displaying her ample assets, was skin tight and had an open back which dipped almost to her butt. With red lipstick, red shoes and her red hair tumbling past her shoulders, she looked amazing. If I swung that way I would totally hit that. Alas, my taste appeared to be sexy sociopaths.
We arrived at a restaurant called Valentines; it was out of town a bit, on a hill where you could see a view of the twinkling lights below and the ocean beyond that. A friendly man working in the bookstore recommended it to me.