by Sophia Gray
“I don’t have any money to give him,” she explained, trying to hold onto her confidence.
“I’ve got it,” Ethan answered. “He’s joining The Angel’s Keepers, close to getting his colors. He’ll be happy to help. He’s a tall guy, blond hair. He’ll be riding a Harley and his name’s Connor Smith. I’ll tell him to show you his license.”
Amelia stood there in silent surprise for a moment. He’d thought of every single contingency and way to keep her safe. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing. Don’t forget to text me when he gets there.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Okay. See you soon.”
“Bye.” She disconnected and then hurried to make a grocery list.
She texted it to the number Ethan had sent her and got another nearly instant reply. “Should be there in about 45 minutes. If you think of anything else, just text me again. It’s no problem.”
Amelia settled herself on the couch with one of the detective novels, hoping to kill some time while she waited for the grocery delivery. She soon found herself engrossed in the story to the point that the knock on the door nearly made her drop the paperback. Her heart pounded, but when she looked out of the small window, she saw a tall, blond guy on the small porch. There was a shiny red motorcycle parked on the street.
“Connor?” she asked, when she opened the door. “Come in.”
He didn’t step forward. Instead he held out his driver’s license where she could see it easily. “Ethan would kick my ass if you didn’t check the license,” he said with a smile.
Amelia took it, feeling slightly embarrassed. The picture matched the man and the name was Connor Smith.
“Thanks, I forgot about that part,” she said, handing it back. “And thanks for doing this, by the way.”
“No problem,” he said easily as he followed her to the kitchen and began unpacking the backpack. “Here.” He handed her the bag on the very top. “Eggs.”
Amelia watched him as he unloaded the pack and slowly realized how much she’d asked for. “I’m really sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I guess this wasn’t easy to get all of this here on a motorcycle. I wasn’t thinking about it.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Connor said with a grin as he dug down into the pack, checking all the nooks and crannies. “All right, I think that’s everything. I’ll head out, but Ethan says if you need anything before he gets home, you can call me and let me know.”
“I think this is fine,” Amelia said. “Thanks a lot, though. I hope you weren’t doing anything important.”
“Nah,” he said, walking back through the living room with her. “I work from home, so I get to make my own hours.”
“What do you do?”
“Graphic designer,” he answered. “I’m in the middle of a huge website redesign, so a chance to get out from behind the desk was great.” He held his hand out. “It was good to meet you, Amelia.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said with a smile. “And good luck with the site.”
He walked out and she watched him ride away before she closed and locked the door. Yet another perfectly normal member of a motorcycle club. For a moment, she wished her father had been there to meet him. Maybe then he’d see they were just people like anyone else.
She shook her head, her hand trailing down to rest on her stomach again. She doubted there was anything anyone could do to change her father’s opinion about The Angel’s Keepers now.
As she began mixing ingredients for the chocolate pie she’d planned, she thought back to what she’d overheard of her father’s business meeting. Should she tell Ethan? She chewed her lip. What could he do? The sad answer was nothing. There was nothing legal that he could do about any of it. She didn’t think he’d try anything illegal, but she didn’t know for sure. They just didn’t know each other well enough yet.
She tried to tell herself ] it was better not to talk to him about it, but that didn’t ring true. Amelia sighed and pushed it away. Like everything else in her messed-up life, she’d decide what to do about this later.
# # #
“It’s me,” Amelia heard Ethan call from the living room several hours later.
She grinned as she put the last glass on the table and the oven timer dinged. Her timing had been perfect.
“I’m in here!” she called back, eager for him to come in and see what she’d done with the money she’d spent.
Ethan stepped into the kitchen and looked around his eyebrows lifting in surprise as he sniffed the air. “Something smells good. Hell, something smells great.”
“Pork tenderloin with a peppercorn rub, au gratin potatoes, green beans, ginger carrots, and a chocolate pie,” she said proudly as she leaned back against the counter casually, trying to project the air that she cooked big meals every day. “Sit down and eat.”
“Give me just a second to get cleaned up,” he said, holding up his dirty hands for her to see. “I’ll be right back.” When he walked past her to the bathroom sink, he pulled her against him, being careful not to get her clothes dirty, and kissed the top of her head. “It all sounds great, Amelia. Thanks.”
She glowed with pride as she put large helpings of everything on his plate and set a bottle of beer down beside it. She’d considered getting a bottle of wine, but she couldn’t drink it and he didn’t exactly strike her as a wine drinker.
When he came back, hands and face scrubbed clean, his slightly damp hair pushed back off of his face, her heart ached slightly. Would it be like this every day if they were together?
“Tell me what you think,” she said after he’d taken several bites. She couldn't take the suspense anymore. It tasted good to her, but what if he hated it?
“It’s good,” he said, opening his beer. “I guess you can tell I don’t cook.”
She shrugged. “I don’t get to cook at home either.”
He took another bite of potatoes and then pointed at her plate. “Then where’d you learn to do all of this?”
She took a sip of her water. “My friend Aubrey.”
“I like her already.”
Amelia smiled. “You would, I think. We met in middle school. When I got to go to her house, we’d always make dinner. Her mom worked and her dad was in the Marines, so he was gone a lot. And Aubrey really liked to cook. She couldn’t believe I didn’t know how, so she taught me a lot.”
“Tell her thanks next time you see her,” Ethan said as he put more carrots on his plate.
“I will. She lives in Texas now, though, so it might be awhile.”
“What about your other friends?” Ethan asked.
Amelia looked up at him, wondering how to answer that question. “What do you mean?” she asked instead of trying to come up with something.
“Well...I mean...do you need to let them know where you are? What’s going on?” He gave a shrug. “I talked about myself a lot last night, and I don’t know a whole hell of a lot about you. I’m trying to fix that.”
She cleared her throat. If she didn’t make her tone as matter of fact as possible, she was going to come across as incredibly pathetic and that was the last thing she wanted. “Well...the fact is...I don’t really have a lot of friends other than Aubrey. I know a lot of people, but most of them are the daughters of my father’s political acquaintances. I don’t really want to deal with them right now. All they would want is gossip.”
Ethan nodded. “Has your father called?”
“Yes.” Amelia got up and took her plate to the sink. “I haven’t answered, though.”
She brought the pie back to the table along with two tall glasses of milk, which made Ethan smile.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s just...it’s been a fucking long time since I’ve had a glass of milk.”
“It’s good for your bones,” she said firmly.
“Tell me something.”
“Like what?” His eyes seemed to search her in that way that made her feel
nearly naked. It wasn’t the way she wanted to be naked with him.
“Anything,” he said. “I just want to know more about the woman I’m having a kid with. I told you about my family last night, why don’t you tell me about yours? Is it just you and your dad?”
Amelia nodded, concentrating more than she really needed to on cutting slices of pie. “My mother died in a car accident when I was three,” she said quietly. “Drunk driver. I was in the car with her. It nearly killed me, too. I was in the hospital for over a month. I broke a lot of bones and had a lot of stitches.”
“Is that where the scars come from?” Ethan asked matter of factly, holding out his plate for a piece.
Amelia’s face flushed. So he had noticed them. “Yes,” she murmured. “I don’t remember not having them. I just have to miss out on the bikinis,” she tried to joke.
“They’re not anything to be ashamed of.”
She looked up at him and found him watching her closely.
“I don’t mind them,” he went on. “And you’d be sexy as hell in a bikini, scars or not.”
Amelia dropped a piece of pie onto her own plate, trying and failing to hold back her relieved grin. “Well, maybe I’ll have to have Connor bring me one tomorrow,” she said lightly.
“Like hell,” Ethan said. “There’s a few things I’d wanna be the one to take you shopping for and that’s definitely one of ‘em.”
She laughed, scooping up a bite of pie.
Ethan turned serious again. “I guess that’s why your old man was so protective,” he said. “Nearly losing you when you were just a kid.”
“That’s part of it,” she admitted. “A bigger part of it is just the fact that he’s a controlling man. And he’s in the public eye. He wants to look a certain way.”
Ethan nodded. “Makes sense. The only other question is, what the hell did we poor innocent bikers do to him?”
Amelia remembered Richard’s voice. That’s what we’re paying you for. “I don’t know of anything,” she said trying to match his light tone. “Maybe he’s jealous of your awesome jackets.”
“Couldn’t blame him there,” Ethan agreed. “But if he wants colors, he’ll have to work for ‘em just like the rest of us.”
Chapter 18
Ethan
Ethan watched as Amelia started stacking dishes. “You don’t have to clean up,” he said, finishing his glass of milk and joining her at the sink. “I’ll get it in a little while. You cooked.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t ask me to,” she protested. “It’s my mess, I can--”
“I ate two helpings of everything,” he pointed out. “I think that earns the chef a break.”
“I really don’t mind. You’ve been at work all day.”
“So have you,” Ethan countered, gesturing at the food. They were going to have leftovers for a few days and he was already looking forward to taking some of it for his lunch tomorrow.
“What are you, some kind of feminist?” Amelia demanded with a grin.
Ethan laughed. “You got me.” Her green eyes were sparkling and he wanted to kiss her so badly, he ached. “Now, get out of here and let me prove it.”
“No way,” she said. “We can clean this kitchen like equals, can’t we?”
He pretended a very heavy sigh and swatted her gently with a dishtowel. “Fine, if you really wanna steal my thunder.”
Amelia began to fill the sink with hot, sudsy water and Ethan gathered the rest of the dishes. He stacked them neatly on the counter beside her. Then he leaned around her to wet a cloth to wipe down the table and sink. He caught her scent and his body immediately registered the heat of hers. He knew he needed to back up, but God, he didn’t want to. This was the closest they’d been all day and his body relaxed at the small contact with hers. She fit him so well.
She leaned back against him and he dropped his head to the curve of her neck, following it with his lips. She was irresistible, even if he had no idea what was going to happen between them in the future, or how she really felt about him. She might want nothing more than some support in a scary time. He was beginning to discover how much more he wanted.
She turned in his arms and raised her chin. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I’ve missed kissing you so much, Ethan.”
He couldn’t have told her no if his life depended on it. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her lips all day. He covered her mouth with his own, teasing her tongue with his until she moaned into his kiss.
“Come to bed with me tonight,” she murmured against his lips. “I don’t want to sleep in there without you again.”
“Baby, if I take you into that room, you won’t be doing much sleeping,” he said roughly. He needed her to know what she was getting into.
Her arms tightened around him as her eyes went bright. “Good.”
He swept her up into his arms, making her squeal and laugh, and then carried her down the hall. Ethan kicked the door open and dropped her gently onto the bed. Then he looked at her. Amelia Stratton, looking breathless, her gorgeous green eyes shining with excitement and laughter. In his bed, where he’d been dying for her to be again for almost two months. In his bed, where she belonged.
She sat up and reached for him, pulling him down onto the bed with her, but he didn’t push her back onto the mattress again. Instead, he knelt over her, gripping the back of her neck, taking her mouth until she gasped against his. Her hands gripped his t-shirt as he continued the kiss greedily.
God, he’d wanted her. A warning sign went off somewhere in the back of his mind. This was more than simple want. This was need, pure and simple. He ignored it, threading his fingers through her thick red, gold hair and tugging her head back, exposing her neck and kissing his way down it before closing his teeth over the sensitive spot at the side.
“Oh God,” she moaned and he felt her body strain toward his.
With him kneeling over her, curving his body down to hers, there wasn’t much she could do to touch him. He wanted to keep her that way for the moment. He wanted her wanting him, needing him right back. He’d be damned if he were the only one dragged down into these feelings. He’d find a way to take her with him, a way to make her his.
She tugged at the t-shirt he wore and he let her go only long enough to yank it off and toss it over his shoulder. Her hands swept down his chest, but he gripped her wrists, moving her hands behind her back and holding them with one of his own. Then he settled in at her neck again.
“You taste so damn good,” he said against her skin. “I wonder what you taste like everywhere else.”
Still holding her hands behind her back in that easy grip, he began unbuttoning the shirt she’d worn that day. It was one of his and it looked just as right on her as she looked in his bed. He kissed every inch of skin he exposed, feeling her catch her breath when he got to her breasts. They were just slightly fuller than they’d been before and, apparently, a bit more sensitive. Her nipples were rock hard, pressing against the thin fabric of her bra already. He hadn’t even touched them yet. She pushed up, presenting her breasts to him in a silent plea and he took one of those nipples between his teeth through the bra. Her head fell back, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, tickling the arm he had behind her back. It was like silk.
“Oh, not too hard,” she whispered.
He flicked open the front clasp of her bra and dragged his tongue over the nipple he’d been a little too rough with. “Better?”
Her only answer was to move forward as much as she could, so he took it as a yes. He circled the hard point with his tongue before drawing it back into his mouth, teasing her with long licks. She was squirming on the bed now.
“Gettin’ impatient?” he asked.
“Yes! Ethan, please, I need you to touch me!”
He grinned. “I am touching you, baby.”
She squirmed again. “Not here...I...”
“Oh, you don’t like it?” He moved back up and pressed his lips to hers again. “Maybe I should just
stay up here.”
She moaned in desperation. “No!”
He laughed. “Then I guess you’ll have to tell me what you want. I’m not a mind reader.”
“You are such an ass sometimes,” she gasped.
“See?” he said, lightly pinching the nipple he’d been ignoring. “You’re already saying what’s on your mind. What’s the problem with telling me what you want?”
“I want you inside me,” Amelia managed to say.
“Too bad,” he said, ducking his head once more. “I said I wanted to know how you taste, remember?” Ethan waited long enough for her eyes to widen in surprise and excitement and then he let go of her wrists and pushed her back onto the pillows. “Hold onto the headboard,” he said. “No hands yet.”
