Twisted Scars (Comanche Sons Motorcycle Club Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Twisted Scars (Comanche Sons Motorcycle Club Book 1)
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“So humility is really your middle name?”

 

She didn’t mind the teasing. It made her forget that already she was itching to get her hands on him. Images flooded through her mind: their bodies hot against each other, his naked skin rubbing hers, and his hands steady and strong on her curves. With an effort she pushed them to the back of her mind. “Hey, you were the one who said it, not me. And it’s not as if you’re running dry. I’ve seen the way women look at you. You enjoy a lot of attention.”

 

“It doesn’t matter who looks at me. All that is important is that, right now, I’m looking only at you.”

 

Now was the time to tell him that he could stop doing so and that she wasn’t interested. Truthfully, it had been a while since she’d had a regular, normal relationship, and frankly, she was enjoying it far too much. When he dropped her back at her home, then she would tell him.

 

The waiter brought their food, and she didn’t have to say anything in response to his loaded statement. They dug in. The pizza was good, but the company was ever better. He was a master of small talk. Riley could see that he deliberately kept all personal topics off the table, almost as if he sensed that she would bolt at the slightest hint of anything that she didn’t want to discuss. She appreciated his restraint and wondered how long it would last.

 

Sooner or later, he would want to know her past. She didn’t want to lie, and she had no intention of talking. Then, she wouldn’t have any option but to cut all ties.

 

Not yet.

 

Not yet. 

 

“So besides watching movies, what is it that you like to do?”

 

“I’m an expert shot,” she replied without batting an eyelid.

 

He wrinkled his nose. “Excuse me?”

 

It would be amusing to see what he made of this information. “I go and practice shooting. There’s a range downtown. I go three times a week or something like that. It’s quite fun.”

 

Chance tapped his fingers on the table while he surveyed her. She could see a gleam in his eyes, as if he was trying his best to decipher if she was messing with his head. “Shooting, as in with a gun?”

 

“Oh, yes. I actually have a license to carry a gun.”

 

He nearly blanched. Most men weren’t comfortable with women who carried guns. She’d learned it the hard way. Maybe it made them feel less masculine. Whatever. She didn’t care. The gun was for her protection, and she needed the damned thing.

 

“You’re carrying one right now?” he asked.

 

“No, I left it at home. It’s better to keep it in the house.” That’s where she was most vulnerable…when she was alone, and when she didn’t have witnesses to see what might happen to her. In the bar, she was safer. It was a place that was surrounded by people, and most likely nothing untoward would happen to her when she was with others.

 

“Wow! You’re something.”

 

“You’re not…scared?”

 

“A little bit,” he admitted easily. “It’s not often that you meet a woman who can not only shoot but has her own gun. I must admit that I never learned.”

 

Amazed that he didn’t have a stronger reaction, she picked up another slice of pizza. The man was made of strong stuff. He really didn’t seem to care that she could probably best him if it ever came to shooting. Of course, he would be curious to know why she felt the need to learn, but his restraint was extraordinary.  

 

“Perhaps you can come with me one day and I could teach you.”

 

Shocked by her own words, she fell silent. What had she just done? Did she basically just make an offer to take him along to the range? Damn it. She never intended to do so. “Sure. I’m always up for learning new things.”

 

Now, she didn’t quite know what to say. It would be foolish to fix a time and date because she didn’t want to see him again.

 

And why not? A voice spoke inside her head. He was nice, different from most men—and quite likeable. What’s more, he didn’t seem to have ego issues that other men were plagued with
.
But she knew better. A man couldn’t handle a strong woman. If they continued to see each other, there would come a time when he would feel threatened by her skills or by her independence, and then the worst might happen. She didn’t want to take the risk. After all that she’d gone through in her life, she didn’t want any additional pain. It was important to take each step with caution, and dating Chance certainly didn’t fall in that category.  

 

But she was already in this knee deep.

 

They had slept together, and try as she might, she wouldn’t ever be able to forget that encounter. If they did so again…no, she wasn’t even going to think about it.

 

The waiter came, and he took out his wallet. “Here, let me share.”

 

“No way.” He paid before she could even take out money from her purse. “That’s never happening.”

 

“Why? Do you have a problem with women who can pay their own way?”

 

“No, I just like to pamper a woman.”

 

There was simply no fazing him. He didn’t appear to get angry, never lost his cool, and was apparently not affected by insults. She stood. “Thanks. How have you managed to survive with all these bikers? Don’t they call you a pansy for not losing your temper? From what little I’ve seen, it’s a proof of manhood to connect your fist to someone’s face.”

 

He laughed at her description. “I wish I could say that you were horribly wrong, but you’re not. Most bikers do have anger management issues, but I’ve kept myself away from such temptations. It’s too easy to use your fists to solve a problem that could just easily be managed with words. A cool mind works better, especially when you’re in a line of work where people are hard-headed.”

 

“And you never get angry?”

 

“Never is too strong a word, love. I try not to. That’s all I can say.”

 

An extraordinary man, indeed. Maybe she needed to spend more time with him to see if he was merely boasting or if he was really as cool-minded as he claimed to be. It would be interesting to learn more about this guy who was hell bent on defying all the stereotypes. Perhaps, she wouldn’t just dump him. She was feeling slightly more excited about the prospect of being with Chance. Maybe, just maybe, he might prove to the one guy who would make her trust men again.

 

She was willing to withhold her final judgment on this relationship—at least for a while longer.

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Chance felt as if he’d dodged a bullet. For some odd reason, he kept thinking that Riley was looking for an excuse to say goodbye to him. She hadn’t said anything to give him that impression, but he got it nonetheless. Perhaps he was paranoid simply because she was hard to get. He didn’t think that she was playing a game. It wasn’t her style, but still, she was woman who held her cards close to her chest. 

 

She still didn’t give him any personal details about herself.

 

What made her so cagey?

 

He was now more and more convinced that she was running away from some man who hurt her in the past. Who could that person be? And why was she still scared of him?

 

He dropped her back home but didn’t want to say goodbye yet. As she handed him the helmet, he held her hand and brought it to his lips so that he could deposit a quick kiss on her knuckles. Even though she tried, she was unable to hide the quick flash of pleasure that coiled in her eyes. “Why don’t you come up?”

 

He was nearly skipping as he followed her into the building. Even though he’d barely made love to her a few days ago, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her hot, curvy body. Sure, he had many women, but there was something special about her. He hadn’t been able to forget her. Images flashed through his mind: her naked, smooth limbs entwined around his and her luscious lips that moved under his with urgency. He was already hard thinking about it—but this time, he wanted to savor the experience and relish it.

 

After they entered the apartment, he thought she expected him to take her in his arms, but he deliberately walked towards her kitchen. “How about a glass of wine? You have some?”

 

“Sure,” she sputtered out the word, seemingly a little confused about his strange demeanor. Good. He wanted to keep her a little off balance. Some anticipation was always good for the soul—and definitely so for love-making. “I’ll take it out.”

 

After she opened the bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses, he sauntered to her living space. “I like what you’ve done with the apartment. Which artist is that?” He pointed to the drawings that she’d framed and put on the wall. “I don’t recognize the signature.”

 

He peered down to take a look at some of the sketches. They were really quite good. The artist had caught the essence of the place and the people he’d drawn. He could recognize the agitated look on the man’s face as he waited for his beer at a bar, and he could appreciate the effort the artist had taken to make the bar look so authentic. In fact, if he wasn’t so wrong, this was an exact copy of the bar where Riley worked.

 

Shit.

 

He turned around slowly. “Yes, I did,” she said, as he gazed at her with eyes that were wide with appreciation.

 

“You drew these?”

 

She ran a hand through her hair in a slightly self-conscious gesture, as she took a seat on the couch. “I draw sometimes during my free time. It’s a hobby.”

 

“Hobby? Sugar, you could make tons of money with that stuff. I mean, I can see people paying you a lot to have their own personal sketches, and although I am no connoisseur, even I can see that you’re damn good.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

He couldn’t get over her talent. She was bloody good, and he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t preening a little more. If he’d a skill like that, he would have shouted from the rooftops about it. He glanced once more at the sketches and marveled at the hands that drew them. She was gifted, no doubt about it. It was another aspect of her personality that he hadn’t known up until now. The woman was an enigma. Every time he thought that he understood her a little better, she showed yet another facet of her personality that captivated him.

 

“I bet I could find someone who would be happy to buy these. There is a gallery owner I know who…”

 

“No.”

 

He was taken aback by the sharp quality of her voice. She’d spoken to him harshly before when she tried to brush him off before their first date, but the note of panic that coated that single word was unique. He glanced into her eyes and saw the fear that coiled and looped in their clear depths. Shit. He’d clearly crossed some kind of a line. Another layer. Another mystery.

 

“If you don’t want to sell, that’s fine.” He kept his voice deliberately friendly and easy even though it cost him to do so. At which point of their relationship would she trust him enough to tell him the whole tale? Why couldn’t she see that he only had her best interests at heart? He wouldn’t ever hurt her, but it was clear that she still couldn’t see what lurked in his heart…love.

 

Chance gripped his glass so hard that he damn near broke the thing. Fuck! Fuck, and double fuck! Where the hell did that thought pop in his mind from? He didn’t love her. Actually, he wasn’t even thinking along those lines. She was a great girl, and he really liked her, but Chance wasn’t ready for something more complicated than a simple affair. A few good laughs and great moments were all that he wanted.

 

“It’s nothing important, you know.” It took him a moment to realize that she was talking about her sketches. “I don’t really show people those. Never went to some art school or some fancy place like that. Just had this itch to draw since I was young, so I’ve been doing that in my free time.”

 

“It’s a good hobby.” He swallowed the rest of his wine. He was so startled by the new thoughts that ran through his mind that he was now flustered beyond belief. He didn’t want to get embroiled in some kind of emotional shit with her, or with anyone. Somehow, he got to this point without realizing that what he felt for her was more than a combination of lust and admiration. It was time to put a break to this. She’d wanted this all along and perhaps she was right; he should’ve paid more attention to her words and actions.

 

“Is there something wrong?”

 

She sensed his disquiet. There was no way in hell that he could unburden his soul to her, not when he knew that she would just kick him if he even mentioned the big “L” word. “No. I just remembered that I have another appointment with someone. A new supplier.”

 

She gaped at him and then pointedly checked her watch. “You are going to meet him at this time?”

 

He took the glass to the kitchen and rinsed it out of sheer habit. He wasn’t as neat as her, but he did like to keep things organized. “You know these guys…some of them can’t sleep the whole night, and that’s when they like to conduct their business. Never mind, I’ll just let myself out.”

 

She walked over, looking a little on the edge. He didn’t blame her. This wasn’t how he’d planned things. When he came here with her, he’d been thinking of romance, but all that fled his mind when he realized that he was way deeper than he realized. She wasn’t some girl whom he fancied, tangoed with, and then set aside when they were both done with each other. Already, his heart was involved, and if he didn’t take care, he would end up getting hurt.

 

That wasn’t a concept that he was comfortable with. Oh, no way. He didn’t like this new turn that their relationship had taken in his head. This was a new dimension altogether. “Are you sure?” she asked.

 

He managed a smile. “Oh, love. Do you think I would leave a beautiful woman like you if I hadn’t remembered some really important work? I’m not a total idiot, you know.” Bending down, he kissed her on the cheek and then walked out.

 

This was the first lie that he ever told her. Chance took pride in the knowledge that he was always honest with the women he dated—even if it landed him in trouble. Now, things were different because the stakes were higher. He couldn’t tell her truth; that he was already half way in love with her, because she would back off faster than he just did.

 

He had a decision to make. He could walk away and steel his heart against her, or he could devise a strategy that would land her in his lap. Whatever decision he made, the consequences would be enormous. He would have to think carefully about it. When he was sure, only then he could either approach or her dismiss her from his mind.

 

The decision was huge, and he wasn’t sure if he was capable of making it, but he would have to try. Yes, he would.

 

 

 

BOOK: Twisted Scars (Comanche Sons Motorcycle Club Book 1)
3.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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