Page 42 of Cocky Bastard

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“You couldn’t have known.” I cleared my throat. “They’re both gone now, actually. Mum died of an aneurysm the first year.”

“Oh my God, Chance. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

I opened the water bottle I was carrying and fed some to the panting pooches. Aubrey was still looking at me when the bottle was empty. So I gave her my full attention and waited to hear what she was thinking about.

A tear rolled down her face before she spoke. “You’ve lost so much.”

I wiped it away and cupped her cheek. She leaned into my touch. I could barely breathe remembering all that I lost. “Yes. I did.” I closed my eyes briefly to pull myself together. When I reopened them, Aubrey was still watching me. So I continued. “Sometimes, it takes losing everything to make you realize what you really need.”

She laced my fingers with hers and squeezed. We sat on the bench like that for another hour before the four dogs we were exercising decided it was time to get back up. I told her about the soccer clinic I started in prison. She told me about everything she did to get the animal shelter up and running. Her firm allowed her to do a sizeable amount of pro bono work, which made her happy. It sounded as if she had found the type of balance she was still figuring out she wanted two years ago.

After we returned the dogs to the shelter, I wasn’t ready to let her go. We were standing out front, and it felt like an awkward end to a first date. “Could we go get a bite to eat?” I asked.

She bit her bottom lip. “I sort of have plans tonight.”

Dick. I nodded and looked down.

“But—”

I glanced back up hopeful. I wasn’t beyond puppy dog eyes.

“They were sort of loose plans. Maybe I could change them.”

I answered honestly, “I would really love that. I’m not ready to give you back tonight.”

She nodded and excused herself for a minute, walking away to make a phone call out of earshot. When she returned, she dropped her phone into her purse. “What are you in the mood for? I need to stop home and change for wherever we go. The dogs got me all dirty, and I don’t want to put back on my suit from work.”

“How about we order in?”

She thought about it for a few seconds. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Chance.”

I held up three fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Boy Scout’s promise.”

She squinted at me as she considered the idea. “Fine.”

My other hand was behind my back with two fingers crossed.

We ordered spaghetti carbonara and chicken cutlet parmigiana from the Italian restaurant a few blocks from her house. Sharing, we both dug in as soon as it arrived. She dipped a piece of bread into the sauce after we polished off both dishes. “I see you’ve lifted your ban on carbohydrates. I seem to remember you only allowing yourself one cheat meal a month.”

“I decided I liked food too much. So I traded bread and pasta for a strict regimen at the gym. Richard got me into running, and I realized I could burn off a slice of cheesecake in less than thirty minutes. Totally worth the half hour.”

I looked away. Hearing her talk about him, and all the good he’d done for her, left me conflicted. I was happy she was enjoying things more but sad I wasn’t the person who helped her learn to enjoy what life had to offer. If I was truthful, hearing his name from her lips also made me feel cross.

“Sorry.” She caught my long face and offered sincerely.

“I’m being an arse. I’m glad that you’re eating and exercising.” I needed a minute, so I got up and took our plates to the sink. Aubrey cleaned up the table while I loaded and started the dishwasher. It felt so…domestic. So right. I wondered if she felt like this with him, too.

It was only eight o’clock when dinner was done. I didn’t want to outstay my welcome, yet I never wanted to leave. I stared down at the kitchen floor. There were some cracks in the grout—a project for another day. “Do you want me to go?” My head was still bowed, but my eyes looked up at her filled with hope.

She shook her head and spoke softly. “How about we watch a movie?”

Pixy joined us in the living room. The minute we sat on the couch, the bugger hopped up on the adjoining loveseat. He propped his head up on the armrest and stared at us. “It’s sort of his seat,” she offered.

We argued about what to watch before we finally settled on a series on Netflix that Aubrey babbled on about. It was a show about a motorcycle gang with the mum from that old TV show, Married with Children. We had a TV in the day room in prison, but there was no way a show about bikers was on the approved list of programs. I was a few years behind on even the meaningless things like television shows.

“You know, when I first saw your motorcycle that day in the rest stop parking lot, I imagined myself riding on the back of it, my arms wrapped around that guy.” She pointed to some blonde bloke on the television, riding a Harley with bright white sneakers. “I wondered what it would feel like to ride.”

“Oh yeah?” She lifted her legs onto the couch and stretched them out. Her knees were bent, but her feet reached my thigh. Without thinking, I took one of her feet into my hands and started to rub. She looked pensive at first, but her shoulders quickly relaxed. “Feel good?”

“Mmmm…hmmm.”

“Guess I’ll be taking a trip back down to Hermosa Beach.”

“Why is that?”

“To get my bike. I owe you a ride.”

She closed her eyes as I kneaded her feet. “I’d like that.”

Me too, Princess. Me, too.

“You wanna know what I thought the first time I saw you?”

She chuckled. “Probably not.”

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. You were gorgeous, but something about the way you smiled as you played with that bobblehead just did something to me.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I wondered what it would feel like to ride, too. Only I wasn’t thinking about the bike one bit.”

Our eyes caught, and I watched as her pupils actually dilated. Fuck. She was getting turned on. I pressed my thumbs into the arch of one of her feet, and she closed her eyes and let out a small moan. “God, I love that sound.” I heard the thickness in my own voice. My cock was growing to match it.

As I rubbed, I felt the tightness from her muscles flee. But it was replaced by a different type of tension. A raw sexual energy filled the air around us. She was relishing my touch, slowly giving into how it made her feel. My hands at her feet moved up to her calf. Her breathing became jagged with each knead. God, I missed the feel of her skin beneath my fingers. I wanted her body under mine so badly, it was almost painful to keep myself from pushing too fast. My hand slid up to the back of her knee, and I inched closer to her. Her body was so responsive to my touch.

“Chance,” she moaned with her eyes shut.

I leaned into her slowly. “Aub—”

The sound of the doorbell was the equivalent to throwing a bucket of ice water over Aubrey. Her eyes flew open and bulged from her head, and her body became rigid. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who she thought was at the door.

“What if it’s…Richard?”


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