For whatever reason, my fingers itch to reach out and tear my hair out of its bun, let it tumble around my shoulders and engulf me. I want to rip off my ugly yellow sundress and light it on fire, dress up in Royal's club jacket and hop on his bike.
What. The. Hell.
Something's seriously wrong with me right now. The man threatened me last night. At least, I think he did. When I replay the conversation in my mind, all I can hear is him telling me that he's not the kind of man who takes no for an answer.
I shiver and shrug my white cardigan up my shoulders.
It's Thursday morning, so I'm all dressed up for family brunch. It's been a tradition since I was twelve, meeting together like this no matter what our schedules are. None of us have ever skipped out on one although at times it feels like certain people in my family are less than present, phones in their hands or laptops on the table.
I used to wonder why we didn't do this on the weekend until I learned that my dad keeps Saturdays open for golf and Sundays open for church.
As I open the driver's side door of my car, I see my neighbor Mrs. Elden glaring at me from across her yard. She's been in the same book club as my mother since I was in high school and she's never once looked at me the way she's looking at me right now.
When I smile and wave at her, she purses her lips and turns away.
Great.
She must've seen Royal and me in the yard last night.
Brunch with the family … this should be fun.
"I don't care what they have to say about that," my dad says, his phone glued to his ear while he sips coffee and leaves his plate of pancakes completely untouched. "I won't take no for an answer."
My head snaps up and my mind flickers with images of Royal. It's eerie, hearing my dad say something so similar to the president of the Alpha Wolves MC. But, like I said, I guess they really are both politicians. Well, good for them. They can be men who don't take no for an answer. I'll be the woman who doesn't take no for an answer.
"Mom is not happy with you," Kailey teases, folding and unfolding her napkin on her lap while my brother pounds away at his computer and my mother passes me strange glances from across the table. Her pale brown hair is swept up like mine, but in a less boring, more graceful sort of a way, and we're very nearly matching in our choice of sundresses.
"Why wouldn't she be happy with me?" I ask blandly, like I have no idea that Mrs. Elden probably called her in a panic and ratted me out. I stare down at my bacon and eggs, moving the yellow fluff with my fork. I feel like I'm suffocating right now. How sad is that? Sitting on the dock above the water, waves crashing against the shore and gulls crying from the beach. I should feel free out here, beautiful scenery all around me, untouched and wild. My beautiful, beautiful Lost Coast. I wish it would stay lost, but I know that'll never happen. The population's gone from the hundreds when I was a kid, to a hundred thousand and growing.
"Sandra Elden called her last night, ranting and raving about how the mayor's daughter was standing in her front yard with a felon."
"I'm pretty sure Royal McBride isn't a felon. He's never been convicted of anything."
Kailey gasps and covers her mouth when my dad glances over at us, furrowing his brows briefly before we're entirely forgotten again.
"So you were with Royal!" she whispers excitedly back at me as I glance down the dock, past the guard rails and out at the sea. It's much quieter today than usual, the navy blue waters kissing the shore with white frost.
"So what? I'm an adult. I can kiss … or do whatever with whomever I want."
"Oh my God," Kailey says, leaning back in her chair and biting her lower lip. "Dad's going to kill you when he finds out."
"I'm twenty-eight years old, Kailey. Dad can't do anything to me." But I know that's a lie. He could fire me. Or make my life here a living hell. There are all kinds of things he could do to me.
I risk another glance at my father and brother, but neither of them are paying much attention to me. My mom, on the other hand. She stares me down like she's never seen me before, her green eyes wide and her mouth pursed tightly beneath her gentle, unassuming nude lipstick. She's pretty, but just pretty enough to make Dad's friends look twice. As much as I love my mother, she doesn't stand out. Just like me. We're cut from the same cloth.
My mind drifts suddenly back to Royal and those leather clothes sitting on my couch.
I force my attention back to my food and just manage to finish my plate by the time my dad and brother excuse themselves and abandon the three of us at the table in a wash of awkward silence.
"Lyric," my mother begins, her voice soft and unthreatening.
"Mom, I-" I start, but she cuts me off, something that's completely out of character for her on a normal day.
"Don't say anything, Lyric Lenore Rentz. Don't … I couldn't bare it." She glances away from me and lifts her napkin to her lips, dabbing at an imaginary bit of nothing. "I don't know exactly what happened or who you were with, but I don't care."
"Mom," I begin again, but she's clearly not done with whatever speech she's prepared.
"I don't want the details, Lyric," she snaps, far more agitated than I've seen her in years. The last time she looked like this, Sully was being dragged home by the cops for driving drunk. Dad covered that one up, of course, but she was still furious at him for weeks. "Do whatever you need to do in your private life, but don't let it screw up your father's career." She lifts her gaze and looks straight at me, her pale porcelain face highlighted by a stray shaft of sunlight. "If he gets word of this … " She trails off and shakes her head, her pale blue earrings swinging with the motion. "Well, I've managed to take care of it for now, but I'm trusting you to have better judgment in the future. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I don't understand. I don't want to understand.
I don't want to be quiet or unassuming or easy going.
I want to be heard.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.
"Of course. It won't happen again." Even if I don't like this, don't like being shutdown or told what to do, I can play nice for now. I'm telling her what she wants to hear because I have to do this for me, to make my dreams happen. Getting my dad re-elected, getting the Wolves under control, that's the most important next step in my career. I want to be a state senator, at the very least. At the most … I can't even dare to dream that far right now.
One step at a time.
One single step.
When I get home, I half-expect to find Royal waiting in my driveway for me. What I don't expect is to feel a pang of disappointment when he's not there. This is for the best, I tell myself, because if this guy's managed to get this far under my skin in just a couple of days, how quickly could things escalate?
I don't want to know.
I move up the porch steps and unlock the door, the pile of leather clothes on my couch catching my attention again. I'll change out of this silly sundress and load those up in the car for tomorrow. No sense in keeping them around; there's no way I'm ever getting on the back of a bike.
I pass by them and around the corner to the kitchen, tossing my purse on the counter and grabbing a wineglass from the cabinet. After the week I've had, I could use a drink. I crack open my best bottle of Merlot and pour myself a healthy dose, wrapping my fingers around the stem and carrying it with me into my bedroom.
I sip my wine as I dig through my drawers for a pair of comfy pjs, my eyes straying to my underwear drawer, my thoughts straying back to Royal McBride.
He's a dick, but God, the sex was amazing. And I didn't get a good look at it, but … the way he filled me up, he's got to have a massive …
"Not thinking about Royal's dick," I say aloud, grabbing a pink tank and a pair of gray sweatpants. I kick off my beige heels and unzip my dress, letting it fall to the floor when my eyes stray to the mirror and catch sight of my body dressed in scandalously sexy white lingerie.
I don't know why I wear it, really. It's not like I have casual quickies often. Usually, when I get laid, it's something I've known was going to happen for a while and I prepare for it. Still, I wear the sexiest underwear and bras I can get my hands on. Sometimes I even wear garters or corsets under my clothes. If I had to psychoanalyze myself, I'd say it had something to do with letting go. On the outside, I can be polished and put together. Underneath … nobody can see that, so I can be as wild and crazy as I want without consequence.
I bite my lower lip and grab my wine again, turning so I'm facing the mirror fully. After a moment, I reach up and let my hair down, watching as it transform my face from plain to … pretty, like a frame for a picture.
My gaze flicks up towards my doorway.
Nobody's here right now, and I just saw my family this morning. It's doubtful that anyone would stop by.
I take another sip of wine.
Fuck it.
I put my glass down and move out to the living room, scooping up the clothes and boots that Royal left and dragging them back into my bedroom. I grab the leather pants first, lifting them up from the pile and rubbing my thumbs across the fabric.