Her eyebrows furrow. “No.”
“Exactly what I thought.”
Chapter Three
Caelin
The vibration of the bike underneath me is one of the things I love most about riding. The way the bumps in the road move up through my body, the wind slapping against my face, and the howl of my bike slicing through the air as I speed down Louisville Road with my dad beside me.
Early morning is our time.
I’ll never give it up, even for all the money in the world.
We come to a stop over the river, obeying the red light. “Do you want to stop at the law office before or after breakfast?” he yells over the idling.
“I’ll do it after. If she’s nice, I might even give her a biscuit.”
Dad grins, causing me to smile back. “At some point you’re going to have to admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“That you’ve got it bad for little Justice Walker.”
The light flips to green, allowing him to take off before me. I immediately hit the gas to catch up, his words tumbling around in my head. Little Justice Walker, my ass. The last few months she’s grown up more than I ever thought possible. Since she and Harley moved out, I’ve seen a whole new independent side to her.
It’s hot as hell.
I’ve never been one for the woman who needs to be saved all the time. If anything, Justice has never been a product of her circumstances. She’s fought hard to find her place in the world. Although it’s been tough at points, she’s hung on with both hands, swinging off a ledge with nothing beneath her.
Our issue? Her dad. I’m not sure Drew would take well to me wanting to do all kinds of dirty things to his daughter, and I respect him enough to not want to sneak around.
Therein lies my issue. Do I nut up and go to him? Tell him I want the opportunity to date her? Ask for his blessing? Or do I let her be the one to decide?
Either way I’m leaving myself open to criticism from all sides. The choice isn’t clear, but what is, is that I’ll have to make one sooner rather than later, because Justice and I? We’ve waited long enough.
Justice
“Seriously?” The word falls as a grumble from my lips as I pull into the back of Mom’s law office. Even though we pay for parking with her building, the annoying assholes next door tend to steal it.
Which is why, although I’m almost thirty minutes early for work, I don’t have a parking spot. I’m half-tempted to take a picture and text it to my dad, along with my complaints. He’ll probably come out with guns blazing and threaten them, making the situation worse. Which forces me to take a trip around to the front of the building, looking for parking on the street.
As I make the left-hand turn at the light, I’m surprised to see a very familiar bike sitting in front of our office. His head is down, over his phone, which gives me a chance to take a look at him without him noticing.
Caelin Blackfoot is the type of man dreams are made of. He’s hard where he should be, and soft in all the ways you want him to be. Although I’m not dumb; I know he’s not like that with everyone. I seem to be one of the only people he reserves his soft side for.
But the hard? I think I kind of like that more.
He looks like a badass motherfucker no one would want to mess with as he sits parked on his bike. A backward hat on his head, sunglasses cover his eyes, and a short-sleeve shirt underneath his cut. The jeans he wears have seen better days, but they have the lived-in look, where at one time they were definitely blue, but now they look almost white. Frayed edges kiss the tops of his boots, little holes dot the knees. This is the look I love on Caelin, and immediately I’m more than excited to see him.
Parking across the street from where he sits, I do my best not to fuck it up. Parallel isn’t my strong suit, and when my dad is with me, he likes to get out, stand on the corner, and yell “C’mon back”. It’s the most embarrassing thing, but it’s what I deal with.
Turning my car off, I grab my purse, my lunch box, the daily bag I bring, along with my coffee, and get out. As I walk toward him, I use the key fob to click the locks. “Is that good enough for you?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“So long as you’re lockin’ it, I could give two shits.”
No man should look as hot as him on a motorcycle. I always compare him to everyone else in my life. There are a lot of men and women I know who ride a bike, and no one else causes this little dip in my stomach when I see him astride one.
“What are you doing here?”
He gets off, grabbing a backpack, as he follows me to the door. I juggle everything in my hands, until he grabs my lunchbox and coffee. “Open the damn door, and then I’ll show you what I’m doing here.”
“So snippy.”
“Be nice to me or I won’t give you what I brought you.”
The idea I had yesterday plays in the back of my mind. Giving him a kiss every day until he finally responds and asks me out. It has its merits, but I’m not sure I have the guts to do it right now.
We spill into the office. Quickly I dump my stuff on my desk and then race to the alarm to stop it from going off. It makes a horrible sound, and if I can prevent it, I’ll do it.
“Why didn’t you park in the lot?” he asks, sitting his bag down.
“Because the douches next door get here earlier than we do and take our spots.”
“Do you want me to go over there tell ‘em to knock it off? I’ll be nice.”
“I just bet you will.”
He pulls a brand-new MacBook out of his bag, putting it on my desk. “Look, I know you don’t want one of these, but the fact of the matter is, you need one. I took it upon myself to go get one, and now I’m gonna set it up for you. Make sure you can log into the network, so on and so forth.”
“Caelin, I told you…”
His dark eyes sparkle as he reaches into the bag again, tossing a Reynolds wrapped circle in front of me. I sniff the air, my mouth watering. “It’s what you think it is. I went over to Harper’s with Dad earlier. I asked her for a biscuit.”
I don’t even think about what I’m doing. The excitement of getting one of the coveted breakfast sandwiches is high in our group, so I can do nothing but thank him for it. Running around the desk, I push his chair back, and throw myself into his arms. He catches me easily, a look of surprise on his face. Leaning in, I take his full, pink lips with mine. What was meant to be chaste, slowly turns into something more. Going for it, I shyly work my tongue into his mouth sweeping against the roof, deepening our connection as I dig my fingers into his hair. His hold tightens, dipping further into the kiss. When neither of us can breathe, we pull apart. Reaching up, I wipe his lips clean of my gloss.
“Thank you!”
He closes his eyes, voice dark and heavy when he finally answers. “You’re welcome. I better get this set up for you before the office gets busy.”
“Yeah.” I disengage myself from his arms, smoothing the dress I’m wearing. Slowly I go back around the desk and sink into the chair facing him. Carefully I grab the biscuit, opening it slowly.
“Here.” He reaches back into his bag. “Gotcha some mustard, too.”