“Are you finished snooping?” she asks.
“Just checking to make sure there aren’t any issues.”
She nods once, then slips her phone into her back pocket. “I don’t talk to anyone. I don’t do anything. If there were an issue, I would tell you about it. And today was the first time that man has ever approached me or my shop,” she states.
“Okay, Lainey.”
LAINEY
What an asshole.
Well, really, he’s not. I mean, he is, but at the same time, he’s not. This is on me. Just because I’m in love with him doesn’t mean that he’s in love with me. Just because I don’t have sex with anyone… ever, doesn’t mean he isn’t having sex.
So as much as I want to tell him to fuck off and be angry, I’m not allowed. Even if I feel exactly that way. After layering the meat, noodles, cheese, sauce, and ricotta into the pan, I place it into the oven, then begin to clean the prep dishes.
I feel him walk up behind me as I stand at the sink. Then I feel his fingers curl around my bicep before his lips touch the side of my neck, and my entire body freezes. I feel his lips at the shell of my ear and try as hard as I can not to break out in goose bumps, but fail.
“I’m doing the dishes,” he rasps.
His fingers grip my hips before he gently guides me to step to the side. I do, but not because I want to. I can’t do anything but follow this man’s guidance. I’m not sure how I feel about that, because I think I would do just about anything if he told me to.
And when I say anything, I meananything.
Which honestly just makes me pathetic, because he’s given me zero reason to be this enamored by him. He’s given me no sweet words, no promises, not even a kiss. Nothing. And yet, I would blindly do anything for him for no other reason than I think he’s hot.
Because it’s not like he wants me back. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing from me. He’s here as a favor to the club, as his duty, and I’m standing around shivering and trembling like an idiot.
Meanwhile, he’s talking to some woman on the phone. I heard her voice, so I know she was a woman, and I know she was very much wanting more of what she’d already had. I could practically hear the yearning in her voice from all the way across the kitchen.
The entire situation is bullshit, and I’ve created some kind of fantasyland thing in my mind. Viking will never want me… he is never going to want me. He’s made it clear, but my stupid brain keeps hoping for more.
There is no more.
Maybe I should just let that guy take me and marry me. What are my other options? I’m thirty-two years old. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in years, and there’s nobody knocking down my door, either.
I’ve been pining after this man, this one man who is gorgeous but doesn’t want me back, and I’ve made it clear that I do want him. So now I’m just being absolutely pathetic. Completely and totally pathetic.
“What would happen…” I begin.
I lean against the counter, watching him wash the dishes. It’s sexier than it should be, him washing bowls and a pan. My breath hitches with my words, because he’s hot but also because I’m kind of afraid to say what I’m thinking.
“What would happen?” he asks, turning his head, his movements frozen.
Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly, a sad attempt to gather my strength, courage, or whatever it is. I need it for the rest of the conversation. But maybe this wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“If I accepted the offer this group made?” I ask.
He drops the item he’s been cleaning, then turns to face me fully, his eyes never leaving mine. I watch him for a long moment. He doesn’t speak; he doesn’t even blink. At the end of the day, though, it doesn’t matter what he says, what he thinks. It’s about me and Axton. It’s about my friends, my family, and their safety.
“You’re shitting me,” he hisses.
I’m not. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I take my phone out of my pocket and find Axton’s name again. The realization that my life is in shambles because I’ve let it become that way has slammed into me.
There is no way around it. Whoever these men are, it’s clear they want something, and they’re becoming braver with each passing day. It is also clear to me that this could benefit the club and my family. And I’m not doing anything with my life aside from baking delicious pastries.
“You’re good?” he demands as his greeting.
“I want to meet with that man. I’ll make the deal.”