by Nicole James
She lifts her head and our eyes connect. I see desire reflected in Kami’s.
Having a temptation like her…legs for days, face of an angel, long silky hair, living in the same house with me? I’ve never wanted a chick the way I want this girl.
The tension between us is so tight; it’s like a rubber band ready to snap.
I know I need to change the vibe before I do something stupid like carry her to the bed. “You want to take a ride?”
One brow lifts and she grins. “Is that code for lets fuck?”
I laugh. “Only if you want it to be. I’m up for it. But I was actually referring to a ride on the bike. The moon’s full and it’s a nice night.”
She giggles. “Oh. Duh.”
I stand and clear the plates. “Go throw some jeans on and grab a light jacket.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kami—
Climbing on the back of Saint’s Harley is exciting. I’m wearing the helmet he pulled from his saddlebag, and I can’t help wondering who he has it for, but I put it out of my mind because I don’t want to ruin this night.
We roll out of the drive, and he takes us away from town and further into the rolling countryside. Moonlit fields stretch on both sides of the two-lane blacktop, and tall southern pines dot the landscape. I love the feeling of riding in the open air, and feeling it roll over us as we race along. Unlike being in a car, this feels like I’m immersed in the landscape, not just statically watching it roll past through a car window. I can smell the pines, and the grass, and the mossy stream we cross. I feel the warmth of the blacktop radiating up, and the cool foggy moisture that gathers in the dips of the road.
I tighten my arms around his waist, and he reaches back and squeezes my thigh. I think he must know what I’m feeling, and somehow I think he’s experiencing that first thrill through me, perhaps remembering his first time riding these roads.
He takes us up into the mountains where the trees are denser and the temperature drops, but its still not cold.
Eventually he pulls over at a spot that overlooks a valley. We climb off the bike.
“The view is amazing.”
He takes my hand and leads me to some boulders. We sit, facing the view.
“It’s beautiful up here.” I gaze around. Soft shades of varying blue fade into the distant horizon. The moonlight washes everything in a soft blue and sparkles on a small creek winding its way through the valley.
“It is.”
“How’d you find this spot?”
“Just out riding one day. Came across it.”
“You ever bring anyone else up here?”
“Nope.” His eyes meet mine, and I can’t help the warmth that curls through my body. “Just you.”
The corners of my mouth pull up, and he winks at me, then turns back to the view and pulls a flask out of his vest pocket.
“Brought you something you might like.” He holds up the small flask of Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey. “Ever had any?”
I shake my head.
“It tastes like those little Red Hot candies. Here, try it.” He passes it to me. I’ve never been one to do shots, but I give it a sip, expecting it to burn all the way down. I’m surprised when it goes down smooth with no bite.
My brows lift. “That’s really good.”
“Thought you’d like it. Most girls do.”
It kind of crushes my high that he brings up other girls. “You sure you haven’t brought other girls up here?”
“Nope. Actually, I’ve never even had a chick on the back of my bike before now.”
“I don’t believe you. You had an extra helmet in your saddlebag. Who was that for?”
“Got it for you.”
For a moment I’m speechless. I search his eyes trying to read if he’s telling me the truth.
“I’m not lying, shortcake.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “Just figured you being here all summer, we’d eventually want to take a ride.” He looks off at that view, as if it all makes him uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“You’re welcome.” He takes a hit off the flask, and then makes a face.
“What?”
“This shit’s too sweet.”
I grin. “Well, thanks for thinking of me and bringing it. I like it.” I reach for the bottle and take another sip.
We sit quietly for a few minutes enjoying the quiet night, until Saint turns his head to look at me. “How’d you like riding?”
I tilt my head back to meet his eyes, smiling wide. “I loved it.”
A grin spreads across his face, creases bracketing his sexy mouth, and my eyes drop to it. And I don’t know if it’s the Fireball or the high of my first motorcycle ride or him being sweet and looking sexy in the moonlight, but I lean forward and kiss him.
I can feel he’s taken by surprise, but he recovers quickly, his hand lifting to cup the back of my head and keep me there, pressed to his lips. This time its no quick peck, he takes his cue from me and deepens the kiss, urging my lips open and swooping inside, chasing my tongue with his, and it’s our first real kiss.
And oh, my God, can this man kiss.
My hand moves to his chest and slips up to the warmth of the skin exposed at his throat. I cup his neck, and he adjusts his head, canting to the side as he hooks an arm around my waist and hauls me across his lap. I’m cradled in his arms, and a feeling of belonging washes over me. It’s like this is where I’m supposed to be. It’s like coming home.
I feel safe in his arms, and I never want to leave his embrace.
We kiss a long time, and I can’t help wondering if he is only allowing us this, here, because it’s as far from a bed as we can get. Not that Saint couldn’t bend me over one of these boulders and take me, and I’m sure he could make me love every minute of it. But that’s not the way he’d treat me. Somehow I just know it innately. I feel it to my bones.
Saint’s palm strokes up my thigh and back down to squeeze the back of my knee. It travels up again, and this time it skates up my abdomen and closes over one breast.
I stutter in a breath as he squeezes and caresses, his thumb stroking the erect nipple poking through his Kings of Carnage T-shirt. I feel the zing shoot through from my nipple to my womb, and I moan into his mouth.
He breaks the kiss, dragging his mouth along my jaw and down my throat. He latches on and sucks, and I know I’ll have a mark there tomorrow, and I don’t care. I want it. I want his mark on me. I want to look at it in the mirror tomorrow and remember this moment all alone with him up on this ridge.
His mouth releases me and drags across my hot skin to my ear. He nips and then growls, “I want you.”
Did he say those words or did I imagine them?
He pulls back to stare in my eyes, and I nod my head, clutching at his neck and pulling his mouth back to mine. He complies, kissing me again and again.
Eventually he breaks free, pulling my hands from his neck. “We need to stop.”
“What? Why?”
“This wasn’t why I brought you up here.”
“I know that.”
“I shouldn’t have let it go that far with you.”
“Why?”
“Because of who you are. Because I made a promise to your mother to take care of you. This wasn’t what she had in mind.”
“How do you know that? Maybe this is exactly what she knew would happen.”
He shakes his head. “No way. This wasn’t the deal. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady.”
“Seems to me you’ve already got a wife. We are married. This is okay.”
“We agreed this was temporary. I’m not looking for anything permanent, and that’s what you’d be. Nothing with you could ever be casual, Kami. It just can’t. I’m going to get my patch soon. And that’s all I’m focused on. You understand?”
“Okay, fine.” I push off his lap, and he stands.
&n
bsp; “The kiss was a mistake.” He stares at me. “We’re better off staying friends.”
I huff out a frustrated laugh.
“What?” he snaps.
“You. Only you could think you could put your wife in the friend zone.”
“This isn’t a real marriage, so, yeah, I can.”
“Okay. I get it. You don’t want me. Fine.”
“Didn’t say I didn’t want you. Think I just fucking proved that I do. But this would be a complication I don’t need right now. You get that, right?”
“I said I did already. Geez.”
He moves to the bike. “It’s getting late. We should head back.”
He throws his leg over, and lifts the bike off the kickstand, then waits for me to get on while he straps on his helmet. I take the one he pulls from the handlebars and holds out to me. Once it’s strapped on, I climb on behind him.
He doesn’t waste a moment before he drops it in gear and twists the throttle.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kami—
I sit in the garden in the early morning sunshine, sipping a coffee and thinking about things. Saint left an hour ago, saying he’d be gone all day. It was a bit awkward this morning, but when he grabbed my coffee mug before I could add the creamer, and took a big slug of it, it broke the ice. He winked at me, and I gave him a smile in return. I was actually sad to hear his bike roar off into the distance.
I came outside to enjoy the cool air before the heat of day sets in. Birds chatter as they flit around the feeder and birdbath I cleaned up and filled. With the picket fence fixed and painted, and the weeds all pulled, revealing the pavers, the garden is magical. I even unearthed some little brass fairy sculptures hidden under the overgrowth.
They remind me of the little fairy gardens Mary Elizabeth and I made in her backyard the summer we were seven. I smile at the memory, and wish she could see this place. I know she’d love it, too. She was always into reading fantasy stories about fairies and such.
I long to have our friendship back. I bite my lip, wondering if she’d take my call. I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
I dig out my phone and stare at her contact. I take a breath and call. As it rings I imagine her staring down at her phone contemplating whether to pick up. I silently count the rings. Three, four, five. I’m sure its about to go to voicemail, when it connects.
“Hello?”
“Mary Elizabeth?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Kami.”
“I know who it is.”
“I’m glad you picked up. I’ve wanted to call you for so long, but I was afraid you’d reject me.”
“So, what did you want, Kami?”
“This is really hard for me… to admit I was wrong. I know I was awful to you. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, thanks for your apology but it would have meant more if it had come when you hadn’t lost everything else first.”
“You’re right. You’ve been right about everything, Mary Elizabeth. I screwed up, big time, and worst of all, I treated you horribly. I know I have no right to expect you to forgive me, but can I at least try to make it up to you?”
“How?”
“Well, could we have lunch and talk? I’ll drive all the way to Savannah, I swear.”
“I’m actually in Atlanta right now visiting my aunt for the summer. So…”
“Perfect. I’m in Uprising.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a small town not far from Atlanta.”
“I heard you got married. It’s all over town.”
“Is it? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I saw you at graduation. Was that your new husband?”
I know I’ve got her curiosity up. “Well, if you agree to meet me, I’ll tell you all about him.”
“He sure had everyone talking at graduation.”
“The man doesn’t do anything half-measured, that’s for sure.”
“Okay. I give. But only because I’m dying to hear all about him.”
“Great. Where should I meet you?”
“There’s a little pizzeria in five points. Pirello’s. Meet me there at 1p.m.”
I check the clock to make sure I have enough time to make it there. “Okay. 1 p.m. I’ll see you there. And Mary Elizabeth, thank you.”
I scramble to jump in the shower.
Several hours later, we sit outside at a table, the afternoon sun blocked by an umbrella. The waitress brings our order and sets the fire-cooked pizza between us.
After she withdraws, we each dig in, grabbing a slice. I moan around a bite. “This is so good.”
“So how are you doing?” Mary Elizabeth asks.
I tell her everything, about my mother wanting me taken care of so I wasn’t put under the control of social services, how Santos came into the picture, and how we ended up exchanging vows the afternoon after graduation rehearsal.
“Wait. You mean that guy who you crushed on all through middle school, the one whose father was your landscaper and his mother was your cook? That guy?”
“Mm hmm.”
“No way!”
“Crazy, right?”
“I mean, he was cute and all, but that guy at graduation in the suit jacket was hot.”
“It’s only a marriage on paper.”
“What does that mean? Aren’t you living together?”
“Yes, but we aren’t having sex or anything.”
“Don’t you want to?”
I shrug. “It’s not that. He just doesn’t want to get involved, so he doesn’t even want to go there.”
“Well, I guess that’s kind of respectful. At least he’s not stringing you along.”
I nod, and jab my straw into the ice in my cup, suddenly quiet.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“There’s something. Spill.”
“He’s prospecting for a motorcycle club called the Kings of Carnage.”
“You mean, like he wants to be a member?”
I nod.
“Oh, I see. And you don’t fit in his plans, huh? Well, consider yourself lucky. Who wants to be hooked up with a criminal?”
“He’s been good to me.”
“Have you lost your mind? He’s a biker. Did your mother know about that when she came up with this crazy idea?”
“I don’t think she knew he was trying to join an MC, besides, it’s only temporary.”
“And then what?” She takes a bite of her pizza.
“Then, I don’t know.”
She chews, studying me. “Someone’s always taken care of you.”
“And?”
“Now it’s time to grow up, Kami.”
“I’m aware.”
We finish eating in silence, then pay and walk along the little shops and boutiques.
“This is hard for you isn’t it? Not buying anything.”
I press my forehead to the glass, staring at the most fabulous pair of strappy heels I’ve ever seen. “It’s not fair.”
Mary Elizabeth rolls her eyes. I can see her reflection in the glass. “Come on. I think you need to see something.”
She leads me back to her car and drives me a couple of miles away. She pulls into a lot behind a large metal building that looks like a warehouse.
“Where are we?” I ask as we climb out. Before she can answer, I spot a sign by the entrance. East Side Food Bank. I look at her across the roof of the car. “What are we doing here?”
“You really want to make amends to me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then you’ll come and help me at the food bank.”
“You mean like volunteer?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“At first it was just something I did to put on my application for college last year. But now I go because so many people need help and so many of them are just children.”
I follow her inside, my gaze taking the place
in. On one side are pallets of food. In the middle are workers making up boxes with assorted provisions on folding tables. On the other side are baby items like diapers and formula. A long line of people files past the tables, waiting for a box of food.
“Open your eyes, Kami. These people have no food.”
There are a lot of single women with little children in the line. I’m surprised at how many. I also see elderly people in line. My heart hurts to see the disheartened expression on their faces.
I overhear a woman with several small children talking with a worker who is helping her out to her car with a box.
“I never expected to be in this position. I work full time, but with day care and no child support, it’s just not enough.” She wipes tears from her cheeks. “I feel like such a failure having to take handouts.”
“That’s what we’re here for.” The worker gives her a sympathetic look and pats her shoulder.
I look back at the operation, they’re trying hard to get people through, but also taking a moment to talk to each one, I suppose so each person coming through the line feels like a human being and not just a nameless face they don’t care about. I see one worker take an elderly man’s hand in both of hers and pat it, talking to him.
“We try to individualize the box somewhat depending on if it’s for a single mom with several kids or if it’s an elderly person and so on. Each family has different needs.” Mary Elizabeth looks so assured in what she’s doing and its value.
I see her with different eyes. She has so much more depth to her character than I do. I feel selfish in comparison.
The realization washes over me that no matter how bad off I think I have it, there are always people in a more dire situation. I suddenly feel ashamed for having missed all the luxuries I’d been given all my life. When I see these children, knowing they don’t have enough food at home, I feel embarrassed for moping around thinking about all the material possessions I’ve lost.
Theses kids have lost so much more.
I feel like something in me has shifted, and it’ll never shift back. I feel different. I smile at Mary Elizabeth and take her hand, my eyes stinging with emotion. “Thank you.”
