“Thank you,” I said in little more than a whisper. “I’ve, uh, got to get home.” I jangled my keys. “Kids. Early morning soccer game.”
Edmond smiled. “Of course.” He didn’t step back, though. In fact, he stepped forward so our bodies brushed. I held my breath as he leaned in, moving my face at the last minute so his lips found my cheek instead of my mouth.
To his credit, he didn’t seem pissed off or offended by the rejection. His lips lingered before he straightened. They were dry, and I fucking hated the way they felt on my skin.
“I’ll call you tomorrow?”
He would call me tomorrow too. No games. No waiting three days or whatever it is Ashley told me guys did these days.
“Sure,” I said, thinking of how the fuck I was going to let him down gently during tomorrow’s phone call. In reality, I’d probably be a coward and send it to voicemail. But tonight, I had higher hopes for myself.
Edmond opened my car door after I beeped it open. Polite. But somehow it felt domineering. And not in the good way.
This would not have been the end of the night if I’d been with Kace.
Who I felt myself longing for.Chapter 14I had managed the almost impossible feat of escaping Mia’s demands for the ‘lowdown’ on the date. Though I wasn’t exactly sure I even knew how or why I’d done that. Maybe it was the look on my face that wasn’t exactly saturated in elation or lust that had her giving me a break. That or the fact that she had ordered takeout from three different places and was in a walking food coma.
Whatever it was, I had respite for the night, at least. I’d muted my phone, too, not ready to even look at all the texts I’d received. Tomorrow was another day.
Tonight was a cheap, pink wine kind of night. I’d done my best to pretend I’d actually liked the bottle he’d chosen, but it was bitter and heavy and totally not something that took the edges off anything.
I was on my second glass, standing at the kitchen counter, staring out the window when I felt it. There was someone in my house. Someone watching me.
Crap.
Ranger’s guns were in our bedroom. Because we lived a life where it was totally plausible that we might need them in a hurry, they were kept where the kids couldn’t get them, but close enough for him to grab in a hurry. He’d trained me relentlessly when he first patched in. I’d hated it at first, but once I’d accepted guns as part of our life, I liked them. Knowing that I was capable of defending myself. My family, if need be. As much as I loved my protective, alpha male husband, I did not love the idea of being some damsel that always needed to be saved.
And now that I was the only point of defense in my home, I should’ve been more aware. There were two humans relying on me to keep them safe.
I turned, ready to throw my wine glass. To attack. Claw off the face of the fucker who would dare to put what remained of my family in danger.
But it wasn’t a home invader, murderer or rapist standing in my kitchen. No, it was a man wearing a Sons of Templar cut.
“How did you get in here?” I demanded, glaring at Kace, hating that everything inside of me heated up at his mere presence. All of the things that I’d tried to make myself feel all night, finally making themselves known.
“I’m an outlaw, Lizzie,” was his explanation. His voice was off. Cold. Dangerous. Same with his face. There was nothing easy or familiar about the way he was looking at me. No, Kace was giving me a glimpse of the man he was when the Sons needed him to be cold, fierce, deadly.
And I fucking loved it. My thighs pressed together with need.
“Kace, you shouldn’t be here,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even. Battling to sound convincing.
He raised a brow, a silent challenge of my lie.
“You gave this to another man?” Kace growled, eyes running over me.
Fire and ice left a trail in they’re wake.
“Kace,” I began, not quite sure what I was planning on saying next.
He didn’t give me a chance to say anything else because he was there, right there. His hands were on my hips first. Then they went their separate ways, one going down, moving to cup my ass firmly. The other went up my ribcage to knead my breasts.
Air hissed from my mouth as my entire body responded to him.
“That’s okay,” he murmured against my lips. “That you went out with another man, let him think he had a chance of doing anythin’. That you put this on for him.” He fisted the fabric of my skirt. “That you got all dolled up like this for him.” His hand moved to my hair, tugging at the strands to the point of pain.