Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC 8)

“No, I think making you mow my lawns without any form of payment other than a glass of milk and some mediocre cookies is torture enough,” I replied.

“I’m going to agree to disagree on the cookies,” he retorted, walking toward me. He had a confident, easy swagger about him that shouldn’t have been attractive. Nor should the thin sheen of sweat clinging to his body. But it was.

“And the milk was a necessity. Cookies without milk is a crime,” he continued, taking a beer from my hand, his fingers brushing with mine.

I snatched my hand back in the guise of necking my beer.

Kace watched me drink my beer and sipped his own.

Unfortunately, there was only so long I could have my lips around the bottle without looking like a frat boy or like I was preforming a sex act on an inanimate object.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked, even though I really didn’t want that to happen. “I was just about to order pizza that I’d have to consume completely on my own because I can’t have any remaining evidence when the kids come home tonight.”

Now why did I offer that? I could’ve suffered through one beer and forced s brief, surface level conversation. One beer was only, what? Five minutes? Ten tops? The pizza thing was more than one beer for sure. And then there was the ordering, waiting for and eating aforementioned pizza.

Way too much time alone with him.

“We got to get one thing straight before I reply to that offer,” he said, his eyes pinning me in place.

I swallowed. He’d felt it too. Or he’d noticed that I was acting completely odd around him and staring at him like an insane person while he talked. Me, the older woman with kids and enough emotional baggage to fit a passenger plane front to back.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those psychopaths that thinks pineapple belongs on pizza,” he teased with a straight face.

I waited for more. But nothing came. And Kace didn’t seem perturbed at how long it took me to answer the question about what toppings I liked on my pizza.

“No, I definitely am not into fruit on my pizza,” I replied, trying to sound as casual and amused as he had. “When the kids are in charge of the ordering, which is any other time I ever order pizza, it’s usually half barbeque, half every meat on the menu. But in those glorious, rare, kid free pizza nights, I order from the fancy Italian place and go with a delicious, traditional margarita.”

Kace raised a brow. “What? Sauce, cheese and basil? That’s it?”

I frowned back at him. “Of course that’s it. That’s how it’s meant to be. Americans have butchered traditional Italian foods with all sorts of sacrilegious toppings. It’s only meant to be three. Four, at a stretch.”

“I’m a smart man. And a hungry one. So I’m not going to even try to argue with you on that. Instead, we’re just gonna get two pizzas.”We’d had more than two beers.

We ate outside. No TV on, no music, no distractions. We talked. About what, I couldn’t even remember. Nothing deep. Not the traumas of our past or the scars of our yesterdays. We talked about easy things. Kace led the conversation, but it happened naturally. I even enjoyed myself.

So much so that after we finished the pizzas and cleaned up, I offered him another beer and suggested a movie.

I only suggested this because Asher had texted to say the kids wanted to stay the night. For selfish reasons, I’d agreed to that. Because tonight I was feeling like something more than a widow and a mother.

The movie had barely started when I paused it.

Kace had carefully placed himself on the opposite end of the sofa. He’d been looking at me a certain type of way all evening. Not constantly, but I’d seen it. The slight heat in his eyes when his gaze lingered on my legs. I’d felt something when our fingers brushed trying to pick up a slice of pizza at the same time.

It was a spark. The kind I hadn’t expected to ever feel again.. One that had grown. Or maybe one that was there because he was attractive and available, and I needed something to numb the pain.

But I couldn’t handle the mundane shit anymore. The ordering of the pizza. The cleaning up. The movie on the sofa. That was entering dangerous territory. Hence me pausing the movie and turning on the sofa so I faced Kace.

“Okay, I know you’re super-hot, and it’s obviously clear that I’m attracted to you because I am a woman with a libido and a heartbeat, which I’m thinking are the requirements to be attracted to you. So yes, I’m human. But I’m also a total fucking mess. Slightly less of a mess than I was six months ago to be sure, but a mess nonetheless. I’m not ready for any kind of relationship,” I blurted.