“She didn’t make many errors all night, and I threw her in without a life jacket. If she messed up your order, it’s because you make her nervous,” Fiona sassed him.
He chuckled, and Dixon outright laughed. Patriot turned for the exit. “I’m out. See ya later.”
They threw him waves as he left. Outside, the moonlight shed everything in a blue glow, and the gleam of chrome on his bike gave him the urge to take a much longer ride than the few miles to his house. He could take a detour the long way and down a few back roads that would lengthen his trip and give him time to think.
When he did just that, pointing his bike toward the loop that would eventually lead him home, he found his head space wasn’t filled with the crimes his crew was accused of, the sheriff poking around the clubhouse, adding Hunter as a prospect or Blade as a full member at long last.
No, every damn corner of his brain bulged with thoughts of Aarica. Seeing the woman at the house he was working on and now the bar had him wondering what the hell the universe was trying to tell him.
He didn’t believe in chance. Things happened in life for a reason. He might not always understand them at the time, but later he could look back and see the purpose of an event or in crossing paths with someone at a certain point in time. Was he meant to help Aarica in some way?
Yeah, in relieving her of her virginity.
Dammit. If only she wasn’t untouched.
Hell, who was he kidding? He still wouldn’t touch her. Those big round eyes and the tanned skin that both spoke of the girl’s wholesome life were enough to throw up a barricade between them. He stood on the side of the wall bathed in shadows. He never committed crimes or treated people dirty, but a man didn’t reach thirty and not see some shit in life.
And Aarica surprised the hell out of him. She might proclaim herself a virgin, but the way she’d taken pleasure from him that night spoke of no innocence to the act. She’d been touched before. Or touched herself, at least.
Fuck. He squeezed the thought right out of his head before he wrecked his bike and ended up as a smear on the asphalt.
He’d almost touched her tonight. Fuck, he wanted to feel her silky skin again, even if only a brush of his fingertips over her knuckles. One touch would be enough—to send him over the edge, that was. No telling what he would have done if he gave in to his baser instincts.
He circled to his idea that she’d been placed in his path. To protect, maybe. To watch over, like a little sister. Fuck that. She wasn’t his sister, and his urge to peel the clothes off her and fuck her was a volcano ready to erupt.
Jesus, he couldn’t keep on this path. He’d lose his mind. If he spent any time in the Painted Pig, he’d bump into her, but he could avoid that easy enough. Drink at the clubhouse only, find something else to do on the nights when the brothers headed to the bar. Though that was still quite a few nights a week, since Dixon kept an eye on his woman and no one would ever harass Fiona with Dixon and all the Dark Falcons at his back.
Riding through the outer loop of Mersey with a lot of units up for rent had him wondering where the hell Aarica lived. She deserved some cute little bungalow with a nice back yard where she could sit and entertain friends or sunbathe.
He slammed down the image of her clad only in a bikini, the round globes of her ass scantily covered by tight spandex, and wished to hell he wasn’t so good at visualizing everything from roof peaks to custom interior cabinets and the ripe curves of a woman’s body.
Finally, he turned his bike toward home.
Alone. And it needed to stay that way.
Patriot reached out to shake the client’s hand before taking his leave. Another job in the bag, and the new flooring he wanted laid in his home could be completed within a few days with all hands on deck.
He was damn lucky to receive any work at all right now, with his reputation in the toilet.
As he left the house, he scanned the neighborhood. Across the street stood a park with a small playground and a couple picnic tables. He’d helped with the project, where they demo’d a crumbling home and reclaimed the lot for a public space.
He heard a loud cry of happiness and looked over to see a young boy standing there with a red rubber ball trapped in his arms. Across from him, eight feet or so away, stood Aarica.
The woman was going to kill him, he thought as his feet started to carry him across the road. His goal of reaching her never registered in his mind until he felt grass underfoot.
When he started toward the pair, the boy shot him a look from the corner of his eye. Then he dropped the ball and snapped his hands over his ears.
Patriot stopped walking. Crap—he hadn’t meant to give the kid a fright.
Aarica shot a look around and spotted him. The electric jolt between their stares seemed to zip through the air like a live rope. He could tug it and bring her to him.
“Jay, it’s okay. You’re right—this man is working on the roof at your house and makes loud noises. Doesn’t he?” She touched the boy’s shoulder as she soothed him.
He nodded frantically.
Feeling the need to help in some way, Patriot held out his arms to indicate he wasn’t holding a hammer.
“He doesn’t have a hammer today,” Aarica caught on at once. “See, Jay? He’s just coming to say hello.” She slid her stare to Patriot before returning her attention to her ward. She eased Jay’s hands down and then tucked one through her arm, holding him close.
“Hi, Patriot. Jay, this is Patriot. Can you wave at him?”
The boy lifted his hand in a reluctant wave.
Patriot smiled. “I saw you playing ball. Are you having fun today in the park?”
He gave a slow nod as if he didn’t totally trust Patriot not to make some noise to scare him. Slowly, Patriot walked over and retrieved the ball. Aarica’s eyes followed him, and he felt the touch of heat.
Holding up the ball, he said, “Mind if I play too?”
He didn’t know what possessed him to ask—maybe the need to assure the child that he wasn’t a terrifying chump. Maybe the need to be near his babysitter.
Surprise registered in Aarica’s eyes. “That would be so nice, wouldn’t it, Jay? Would you like if Patriot joins us?”
He nodded again very slowly.
Patriot squared up with Aarica and Jay, standing about eight feet away as she had earlier. He met her gaze. “Do I bounce it or roll it?”
“Bounce. Jay just caught one on a bounce and that was a big deal!” The happy glint in her eyes told him how much she really cared about this boy, and that warmed the hell out of him.
She released Jay’s arm. “Get ready. He’s going to bounce the ball to you now.”
The boy positioned himself, and Patriot released the ball, letting its weight set the momentum and give Jay time to react to catch it. The ball struck the grass in the center between them all, and Jay lunged forward to grab for it. The ball rolled by him, and Aarica used the toe of her shoe to direct it toward the child.
Laughing now, he closed his hands on the ball and picked it up with a huge grin. Aarica let out a cheer, and he jumped up and down.
They continued the same way several times until the child obviously grew more comfortable with Patriot. He couldn’t yet say the same about Aarica. She watched him close, as if trying to figure out his motives behind joining their fun.