Hell, I needed the one on one time too. Maybe more than he did. I had my fellow Devil’s Riders, but that was it. And most of them had families to go home to at night. I’d been more or less on my own since I was barely a teen, and in a lot of ways, I still was.
I didn’t belong to anyone except my horse and my club.
At least he has her, I thought to myself, feeling a little bit jealous of my horse. Melissa had always taken such good care of him. Lucky dog, I thought, giving my horse the stink eye. I wouldn’t mind having her gorgeous hands rub me down after a brisk run, or feed me apples . . . and I would be more than happy to eat just about anything out of her palm.
Fuck, man, my horse really did have it made.
I clicked my tongue and he followed me out of his stall. It was hard not to notice that his once sure footing was more tentative and strained. My heart twisted, just like it did every time I noticed that he was declining.
"It sucks getting old, doesn't it, buddy?"
“You're not old,” I heard a teasing voice joke from the doorway behind me. I turned and stared. There she was, lugging a bale of hay, looking cute as a button with a thin sheen of sweat on her skin. How the hell did she do that, look cute and sexy at the same time?
Honestly, Melissa was a walking pinup girl. With hay in her hair, that turned up little nose, and pouty lips . . . never mind that the way those tight jeans fit her was pretty much illegal. She had a plaid shirt tied at her waist, accentuating her curves and hourglass figure. She even had a pitchfork.
Down, boy.
I said something barely audible and forced myself to keep walking.
What the hell was I going to do? I couldn't keep my hands off her forever if I kept coming around. I knew in my gut that I wasn’t going to be able to stay away even if I tried to move Hendrix somewhere else. But . . . if I avoided her as much as humanly possible, would this crazy feeling go away?
Nope. Don’t even bother, dumbass. You’re hooked.
I closed my eyes and I saw her indescribably pretty face with all those little golden strands dangling around it. Oh, my fucking God, it was cute. I’d never fucking noticed a woman's hairstyle before. And now I was noticing her lack of some contrived hairstyle and how fucking adorable it was.
I walked Hendrix briskly out into the fields, fighting the urge to run like hell. I went as far as I could go. Then I sat down on a log and contemplated my current situation.
Not situation. I had a predicament.
Hendrix contentedly munched on some tall grass nearby, totally oblivious to the absolute cluster fuck going on in my head.
I was stunned. Thunderstruck. I could not believe what had just happened to me.
I had to go back to the stables eventually. I couldn’t hide out here all day. That was ridiculous. What kind of man hid from a cute little girl? Cute was the wrong word. She was gorgeous from head to toe. But still, she was a little girl. She was more than half a foot shorter than me.
This man did, I realized. Me. One hundred percent me.
I couldn’t stay out here and try to get my emotions under control. That could take hours. Days, even. I had to get to work. But I was terrified of what might happen. I didn't know what to say or do around her. Something inappropriate, I was sure. What if I grabbed her and kissed her against her will? Saying or doing something flat-out obscene was a definite possibility.
I’d never felt like this before. I'd never been unsure of myself before. Not even for a fucking second. It wasn’t fun. It was excruciating.
And yet . . . my whole body was thrumming with excitement. Something warm and expansive was happening in my chest. The world felt alive with possibility.
Man up, Nick. The girl won’t bite. Not unless you’re very fucking lucky.
I grabbed Hendrix's reins and started back. I’d gone further than I thought. I was almost at the edge of the property.
Nice, Nick. You really are a pussy.
There was no sign of Melissa as I took Hendrix back to his stall. I couldn't help it. I was disappointed. I'd been fighting the relentless urge to get another good look at her. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe she wasn’t everything I’d dreamt about and more. Maybe seeing her wouldn't be like a shot to the gut. I was probably overreacting because I hadn't been attracted to anyone in so long. That was it. It was just a fresh crush when I didn’t usually get them.
They called me ‘Nick the Nun’ for a reason.
Working two jobs, visiting Hendrix, and my duties at the club took up a lot of time. And trying to save up to save the farm was taking up so much energy. I didn't have time for more than a couple of beers with the guys on a weekend between my two jobs and Hendrix. I’d go over to Jack’s woodworking studio every chance I got to work on learning as much as I could. I was learning to make furniture, but it would all come in handy when I got the family farm back. Lord knows, the place was starting to fall down after being left empty for so long.
Thank God Jack didn’t care if I was there late at night. In fact, they encouraged me to come whenever I liked. He even kept my favorite beer in the fridge out back. He and Janet definitely treated me like I was part of their family. I worked as much as I did because I’d always worked. And also because I didn’t have anything else to do. My mind raced and the emptiness rushed in after dark.
Most nights, I was lucky if I got any sleep at all.
Sleep deprivation. That explained it. That's what was happening to me.
“I brought more coffee,” a soft voice said from behind me. “I even brought you a cup.”
I turned slowly, eager to see her but terrified at the same time. I felt like a little kid bracing himself for a wave in the ocean. And I was right.
Fuck. Me.
She was focused on pouring me a cup of coffee from her replenished supplies so she didn’t notice me staring. That was good. Hopefully, she wouldn’t catch me mid-drool. Because oh, boy, was I fucking drooling.
Melissa was even sweeter and juicier than I remembered from earlier that morning. She was perfectly feminine and natural. She was the girl from every soap commercial, but even curvier and prettier.
And she clearly had no idea what she was doing to me.
She smiled at me sweetly and held out the steaming mug.
“I hope you don’t mind it black.”
I shook my head mutely, taking the cup from her. I couldn’t help but let our fingers brush like they had the first time. That’s all you’re going to get, Nick, I warned myself. Fucking enjoy it.
Yeah, even her fingers were making me googly-eyed.
“Quick visit?” she asked, taking a gulp from the thermos. I stared hungrily at her throat as she swallowed then switched back to staring at her lips. Dear God, I thought as she licked a drop of coffee off her lips. I could bite those lips.
“I have to get to work.”
“Oh, right. Are you still doing construction?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, inexplicably pleased that she’d remembered that. “And I bartend most nights.”
“You do?” she asked, looking intrigued. “Where?”
“Sons of Satan’s clubhouse.”
“Can anyone go? I mean, could I come?”
I stared at her.
“I’m a man.”
She cocked her head to the side, looking perplexed. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t making a lick of sense.