“Did you ever go to that one bakery off 23rd?” Leon’s green eyes are hooded with intoxicated relaxation. He’s sitting with his legs straight out, his back propped against a wall of cardboard boxes holding God knows what. I’m across from him with my legs tucked underneath me, my hair falling down around my shoulders.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“No, no, you’d remember if you did,” he laughs. “The woman who ran the counter wore the most obvious platinum blonde wig. She used to draw her eyebrows on with a Sharpie, I swear.”
“Give her a break!” I giggle. “It was a different time. I’m sure a lot of people thought she looked damn good.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s just me,” Leon concedes. There’s a warm, happy glow to his cheeks.
“So, I have to ask,” I start, biting my lip. “Why are you looking into Dad’s death?”
“Well, you know, he was starting to come around to us and our way of doing things. He was a stubborn guy, but he had a good heart. Once he realized we’re the good guys, he wanted to help. So he did,” Leon explains.
“Was he part of the Club?” I ask, trying to remember not to call it a gang. He doesn’t seem the sort who’d be okay being associated with that word. But my heart is racing at what he just said. How could I not have known? How could so much have changed while I was off doing my own thing in the big city? Guilt seizes my heart so tightly I feel a physical pang in my chest.
Leon shakes his head. “No, no. Just a sympathizer. He was helping us get information about his employers, as well as gathering intel about similar operations around town.”
“And is that… why he died?” I ask quietly.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” he says sadly. “I’m sorry — ”
“No,” I interrupt, getting up to move closer to him. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. You, my dad, the others — I know you were all trying to do the right thing. My dad wouldn’t want me blaming the wrong people for his death.”
“But if he’d never gotten involved…”
“Then he would have just continued being a cog in the machine like he was his whole life. You obviously gave my dad a new perspective he was passionate about.”
“And now you’re involved. I don’t think… I don’t want…” Leon trails off for a moment. Then he finishes, “I don’t want to be responsible for getting you in too deep.”
“Thanks for the concern, but I’m a big girl,” I answer, staring into his green eyes. Suddenly, the electricity that’s been growing between us seems to shoot a lightning bolt through my body. I feel hot all over.
“I — I can handle myself,” I add. Leon’s eyes are focused on my lips and my heart is racing in my chest. Without letting myself second-guess the decision, I dive in and press my mouth against his. Immediately his hands come up to wrap themselves in my hair.
His tongue pushes into my mouth and I moan into his, climbing over to straddle him. His hands fall to grip my hips and hold me there. The taste of bourbon burns in our mouths and my head is fuzzy with pleasant dizziness. I take Leon’s face in my hands and kiss him deeply, rolling my hips against the growing bulge in his jeans. I can feel myself getting wet. Even with everything that happened today, I know that in the back of my mind, this moment has been swiftly approaching.
He’s the one who reached down and pulled me out of the ocean when I thought I was lost forever. He’s the one who rescued me. And now we’ve found each other again. It has to be fate — some magnetic force of nature that’s drawn us back together again so many years later.
We’re inevitable.
Leon pushes the hair back out of my face and gathers it over my left shoulder, then leans in to kiss a trail down from my lips, over my neck, to my collarbone. His teeth graze my skin and he sucks delicious, bright-red marks into my flesh, causing me to cry out and push into him longingly. I need to feel his skin on mine. I crave the refuge of his hot, strong body.
He peels his shirt off and tosses it across the room, his lips promptly returning to kiss me again and again. My hands rove up and down his hard, muscular chest and stomach. I can feel every single one of his abdominal muscles defined beneath my wandering fingertips. I can only imagine how powerful he must be, how strong.
The very next moment, I find out.
He picks me up, lifts me easily off of his lap, and lays me down on the blanketed floor on my back before climbing over me and helping me out of my top. He throws it aside and then turns back to sigh hungrily, looking down at my nearly-exposed chest. He slides his fingers underneath the lace of my bra to caress my nipples and grope my breasts. I groan and close my eyes, arching up into his touch. Wordlessly, he lifts me up just enough to reach around and unclasp my bra. Then he tosses that, too.