"Exactly," he agreed, and I could hear the weight of his feelings on the matter, just how much he loved his daughter. "But they're getting older now," he added, and I wondered if he was reminding me, or himself. "Jelly, ah, Jelly told me she likes you," he added, and that was pure vulnerability in his voice.
Something in me felt pulled toward it, toward him. "Yeah?" I asked, feeling my belly swirl a little. "I like her too. I mean, she's all sunshine and rainbows, what's not to like, right? Don't worry," I said, smiling, "I know Jacob isn't always as easy to—"
"Stop," he cut in. "Jacob is a good kid. He's just been led off the path you put him on. That's not on you. Or even on him. He's young and... would you hate me for calling him stupid?"
"No," I said, laughing. "Stupid goes hand-and-hand with young. It isn't Jacob-specific. He really is a good kid when he isn't corrupted by those assholes."
"You'll get him away from them one way or another."
"Yeah," I agreed, feeling determination overtake my helplessness. "Thank you. I needed the pep-talk."
"Anytime. And I mean that," he insisted. "I always have my phone. And, eventually, I will be next-door again."
"And it rings, dings, and chimes both ways," I told him, angling my head up on his chest to smile at him. I chose not to analyze why I hadn't pulled away yet. "I know you can't tell me about your top-secret biker business, but you can be vague."
"I'll remember that. Come on. Come in and have some coffee. Jacob is assed out. Your mom has a caretaker. Take half an hour to yourself," he suggested. And, well, it was a weekend. I didn't have to rush Jacob along to get ready for school. I had no pressing errands, no appointments for my mom.
I was going to do something unheard of.
I was going to have some of that thing they talk about online.
I was going to have some me-time.
Crazy, right?
"Okay," I agreed, peeling myself off of him, only feeling a small twinge of disappointment to lose the nearness, then climbing out of the car and waiting for him to do the same.
He moved in at my side, putting a hand at the small of my back. And, sure, maybe it was something he did to all women. Maybe it was chaste and simply a means to direct me where I needed to go.
But that did not stop the thrill that moved through my body at the contact.
I don't know what I expected of a biker compound. It didn't look much from outside, to be honest. Except for that weird-ass glass room on the roof I had wondered about on more than a few occasions when passing it on my way through town. But the rest of the building looked like what my mother said it used to be. A mechanic shop. Except they had clearly blown out the back several times over the years, making a pretty massive structure, though only one level.
The inside was surprisingly nicely decorated, though. I imagined that had less to do with the bikers, and more to do with the wives that Colson had mentioned.
The colors were deep neutrals, cool, but somehow still inviting. There was a full bar to the right inside the door, a pool table to the left, then a living room area directly forward with a nice set of couches and chairs and a truly massive television on the wall. Across from the living area peeked a kitchen, then a hallway that I imagined led back to bedrooms, judging by the number of doors I saw as Colson led me inside.
"The guys might look a little rough right now," Colson warned, voice low. "I didn't want that to catch you off-guard."
I'd seen my share of rough-looking men going to high school in a less-desirable part of town, seeing the aftermath of gang violence all my life.
I figured I was prepared for anything.
But being led into a kitchen that was dominated by four truly massive men that seemed to not only swallow up all the space, but all the air, and finding their eyes blackened, lips split, knuckles completely annihilated, was more off-putting than I had anticipated.
I faltered back a step, only held in place by Colson's hand at my back.
A dark-skinned, chiseled-jawed man shot Colson a smirk I didn't know him or their relationship well enough to interpret. But then his gaze went to me, the smile going kinder. "You're Eva," he guessed.
"That's me," I agreed, giving him a truly mortifying sideways wave.
God, once upon a time, I wasn't such a complete nerd, I swear.
"Virgin."
"I, ah, nope," I said, brows furrowing. "I, you know, birthed that blob asleep on the couch out there," I said, pointing over my shoulder. "He's not the next Savior, I promise you that."