“Hey, Red, any chance for some of those leftovers now?” He stopped and started with a hesitancy I adored.
I sat up, smiling down at him. “Of course.” I hopped out of bed and put on my T-shirt, but nothing else. “It’ll take me a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” His soft, genuine smile contrasted with the predatory smirk I’d seen moments ago.
Emotion brimmed inside me, but I tamped it down because it wasn’t part of the deal. I consoled myself with the fact I’d picked his best talent.
In the kitchen, I put the pasta in a pan on the stove and hummed a Maroon 5 song while it heated.
“Smells wonderful. You always cook for yourself?” He snaked his hands around me from behind, nuzzling my neck.
“Mmm-hmm.” The dish bubbled and I turned it off. “It’s ready.” I slipped out of his arms to grab a plate. “Eat your fill. And drinks are in the fridge.”
I moved into the living room and sat down on the floor, my back to the wall facing the chair. I cracked open the bottle of water I’d brought with me. He loped toward me, frowning at my solitary blue chair before he sat down beside me. I leaned back against the wall, enjoying the companionable silence.
“This is delicious. You’re an awesome cook.” He spoke with his mouth full. “When Mama Jericho finds out, expect an invite to cook after church.”
“You go to church. Where?” My hand stilled on his leg.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Forget you don’t know. Church is what we call the club meeting every Sunday at one. We have a huge feast afterward. The club’s old ladies and others help with the food.”
His explanation made sense. But I didn’t plan to spend my one free day around a bunch of bikers. “Is it part of the job?”
Dare’s gaze bore into me. “You trying to piss me off?”
I shrank back.
“Don’t do that. Ain’t ever going to lay a hand on you.” He growled.
He stood and headed for the bedroom, probably to grab his stuff and leave. He’d gotten what he came for, and obviously conversation wasn’t a skill of ours. I picked up his mostly empty plate and carried it to the kitchen while I tried to decide what to do when he left. Act busy, watch him go or beg him to stay. Definitely not the last.
Dare stood in the middle of the living room. “You don’t fight. Why?”
“Never does any good.” I glanced down but he hadn’t put on his boots.
Dare sat in my beat-up chair left here by the last tenant. Mussed and relaxed, I loved the way he looked. And my heart clenched. It wouldn’t last, already I’d upset him.
He patted his lap. “Come here.”
I complied, but tension held me stiff. I didn’t like being yelled at, and honestly, had had enough of it to last a lifetime.
“Your job is about managing the shop—that’s all. No strings, no obligations.” He stared at me until I nodded. “We fuck, we don’t, you help at the club, you don’t—doesn’t have shit to do with your job.”
“Do you expect me to believe you?” I started to bite my lip but stopped. I focused on my hands. “When this between us is over...” I couldn’t finish the thought. No matter what he said, I knew better.
I held myself still, trying to be invisible. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?
He tugged up my chin and held it. “Nope. Whatever this is between us, when it ends, your job doesn’t. We covered this, remember?” He stared me down.
I glanced away, and a part of me believed the fairy tale, but I’d always paid a lot for any happiness, and he made me ecstatic. There might be something in between the all or nothing I’d experienced. I hoped so. I’d only lived here a short time, yet it had become home. Or I craved a home so bad that everywhere felt like home.
“You and me burn hot, too hot most likely, so it might not last long, but don’t get burned, walk away, and all will be good. Got it?” Truth rang in his words.
I studied my fingers. The world he talked about was make-believe, and none of my relationships ended in friendship. Frankly, I doubted it was humanly possible.
“You don’t believe me.” He gave a wry snort. “Think whatever, but it’s how it’ll go down. Say it.”
I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.
“Repeat it. When I walk away, it’ll be good between us.”
My throat closed up at the thought of saying it. “You assume I’ll break it off.”
He pursed his lips. “Applies either way. Now say it.”
I closed my eyes tight and inhaled a fortifying breath. Gaze on the dented wood door of my apartment, I said, “When I walk away, it’ll be good between us.”