“Thought you might need it.”
“You drove all this way in shitty weather just to bring me coffee?” I may be freezing my ears off but I’m ready to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Well, I also wanted to do this.” He leans down and curls his arms around me, drawing me into the warmth of his body. He presses his lips to mine. A gentle morning greeting that quickly slides into something hot and demanding. The air around us sizzles and the noise of the waking city fades. I sigh into his mouth and his hands slide to my waist.
He groans and pulls away, dropping his forehead to mine. “Missed you, buttercup.”
My gaze remains fixed on his chest, wishing we didn’t have so many layers of winter clothing between us. “Me too.”
He rests his knuckles against my chin and tips my head back. “You all right?”
“Just upset I’m running late. I’d rather spend time with you.” Why do I have to sound so damn needy?
The corners of his mouth lift. “I’d love to spend more time with you too, but I knew I’d only be able to see you for a few minutes. Thought I could help.” He nods toward the street where my car’s buried under a pile of snow at the curb. A younger guy’s currently shoveling around my tires. “Well, I thought Remy could help.”
He brought someone with him to shovel the snow away from my car? “I usually just ram through the snowbank. If I clean out a spot, it won’t be here when I return.”
Grayson frowns. “Good way to bust up your front end.”
I shrug. “I’m usually running late and I hate getting wet and cold before work.”
“We need to find you a better place,” he mutters.
Oh no. I don’t want to revisit the apartment discussion. I’m still so chilled from my heat not working last night, I might cave and say yes this time.
“Uh, Grinder.” Remy jams the shovel into a pile of snow, leaving it sticking upright, and waves us over. “She can’t drive in the snow with these. They might as well be racing slicks.”
Despite the cold, heat spreads over my nose and cheeks. I was hoping to make it through the winter without buying new tires.
Gray takes my hand and tugs me closer. “Serena, this is Remy. He’s helping me out with a few errands today. Remy, this is my girl Serena.”
Remy smirks at the explanation. I study his handsome face and mischievous blue eyes for a second. He seems familiar but I can’t remember where we might have met. Probably through the club, even though I don’t think he’s a full-patch. The idea that he might recognize me ties my stomach in knots.
Gray squats next to one of the rear tires, running his thumb over the tread. I squirm where I’m standing. My gaze darts everywhere to avoid making eye contact with Remy.
Finally, Gray stands and leans in to confer with Remy. I only make out a few words here and there of the conversation.
Remy nods and hands over a set of keys. “I know a place.”
They go back and forth for a few more seconds. When they’ve reached some sort of agreement, Gray steps back and holds out his hand to me. “Can I have your keys?”
Without thinking, I pull them from my pocket. “Why?”
“It’s going to take a minute to dig out your car,” Remy explains.
“Sorry,” I mutter, thoroughly embarrassed this stranger got roped into shoveling my car out of its snowy grave.
Remy flexes his arms and winks at me. “Not a problem, darlin’.”
“Watch it, kid,” Gray orders.
Chuckling at Gray’s quick warning, I lean up on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Seeing you this morning is the best present,” I whisper against his ear.
He smiles and turns; our foreheads touch, our cold noses rub together for a moment. “Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
“I’ll drop you off at work.” Grayson reaches for my tote bag, unburdening my hands. “You can trust Remy with your car.”
“Oh, I do.” No one in their right mind would try to steal it. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Remy nods at me and returns to shoveling.
Gray leads me over to an older Ford Bronco with big, meaty tires and a plow on the front. “Guess you have no problem ripping through the snow in those.” I nod to the treads.
“We did all right.” Gray opens the passenger door and helps me inside.
“Is Remy a prospect?” I ask when Gray puts the truck into drive. “Did we just steal a prospect’s vehicle?”
Gray smirks. “No on both counts.”
“Is he your nephew or something?”
“Don’t have any family besides the club, Serena.”
“Oh.”
His gloved hands tighten on the steering wheel briefly. “Why are you so worried about him?”
“I’m not. I’m worried about you.”
“What about me?”
“Well,” I answer slowly, “you told me parole won’t allow you to socialize with the club. But you’re out and about with someone who—”