by Lane Hart
“No clue. Miles is in the shower.” That’s why I decided to call when I did, so that we could have a little more privacy.
“Oh. Well, hopefully you’ll do something fun.”
“Right, yeah,” I agree just as Miles comes stomping into the living room fully dressed and sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll talk to you soon,” I say to my mother quickly.
“Love you, Kira.”
“Love you too,” I tell her before I end the call.
“We’re leaving,” Miles says.
“Where are we going?” I ask when I get to my feet, already dressed in my jeans and a dark blue tee after my early morning shower.
“Shopping,” he replies which is the last place I imagined.
“Shopping for what?” I ask.
“House shit,” he says. “Can we take your car?”
“Ah, yeah. Sure,” I say since he still has the keys.
I follow Miles out to the deck where he locks the door. Then, once we’re down the steps, he climbs into the driver seat of my car, which is fine with me. I don’t know where anything is in this town.
Our first stop is at a furniture store, which of course makes me think of my parents and causes a pang of homesickness.
“Pick out whatever you want,” Miles says when we walk inside. He flops down on the first sofa in sight without removing his sunglasses.
“Huh?” I ask in confusion.
“Whatever pictures or shit you want.”
“I don’t need anything,” I tell him. “It’s your house, so you should put whatever you want in it.”
“It’s your house now too,” he grumbles.
“Are you gonna help?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“What if you hate what I pick out?”
“I won’t.”
“Okay,” I say with a sigh before I start making a lap around the store.
I’m trying to decide between two beach paintings when a short, older man with a white beard comes up beside me and asks, “Anything I can help you with today?”
“Oh, hi. I was just trying to decide between these pictures.”
“Both are lovely,” he says. “And by the same local artist.”
“They’re beautiful,” I say. “But I’m not sure which I like more, the lighthouse or the wild horse grazing.”
“We’ll take both.”
The two of us turn around in surprise when Miles suddenly speaks up from behind us.
“Of course,” the old man says, immediately taking two steps away from me. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, sir?”
“We don’t have to get both,” I tell Miles.
“You like them both?” he asks.
“Yes, but…”
“Then we’re getting both.”
“I’ll go wrap them and ring them up at the register,” the old man says before quickly removing them from the wall and scurrying away.
“Are you sure?” I ask Miles in concern. “They’re like a thousand dollars each and you have to look at them too.”
“They’re both fine. I repaired a shit ton of steps in that lighthouse, and I’ve seen the horses on Shackleford Banks a few times.”
“Oh,” I reply in surprise. Before I can ask him if he’s lived here long, he stomps over to the register like I’ve somehow pissed him off.
A few minutes later, we’re back in the car, but he doesn’t take the road back to his house.
“We need food,” he grumbles.
“Okay.”
“What do you like to eat?” he asks.
“Anything is fine.”
“That’s not an answer,” he huffs, like I’m a big pain in his ass.
“I’m not picky.”
“Obviously not if you agreed to marry me.”
I could’ve done worse, I think to myself. Miles is nothing like the worst-case scenario I imagined all week. He’s not old and wrinkly. And I can’t figure out if he’s grumpy all the time or just to me because of last night when I flipped out. Or maybe I’ve done something else wrong. Either way, he doesn’t seem very happy with me.
Chapter Thirteen
Miles
“What do you eat for breakfast?” I ask Kira as we stroll through the supercenter.
I’m pushing a fucking shopping cart, which is a first, but I figured I couldn’t carry a week’s worth of food in my arms.
And Kira? Well, her arms are wrapped protectively around herself and she’s sticking to a two feet minimum distance behind me. Still, despite her discomfort, I have to say I love being out in public with her so everyone can see the ring on her finger. She belongs to me even though it feels like a million miles exist between us.
“Anything is fine,” she says again, sounding like a broken record because it’s been her response to every question I’ve asked her. This is quickly becoming infuriating. Especially since Cooper said I’m supposed to be talking to her and getting to know her. I’m making a goddamn effort here, and she won’t even give me a hint of what kind of food she likes.
Stopping the cart in the middle of the cereal aisle, I turn around to face her. “Anything is not fine! You have to have likes or dislikes, so just tell me something, for fuck’s sake!”
She cringes away from me when I raise my voice, causing the two old women in the aisle to glare at me like I’m an abusive husband.
And it may very well come to that, because I’m certain pulling her teeth out one by one would literally be easier than getting her to open up.
Rather than give me a verbal response, she walks over and grabs a box of Cheerios and places it in the cart.
“Was that so hard?” I ask with a huff. “We’re not leaving until you fill this damn thing up with shit to eat. Got it, princess?”
“Yes,” she responds.
And that’s the last word she says before we get to the checkout counter. At least she did like I asked and added more items. Kira apparently also likes strawberry Poptarts, frozen waffles, bacon, lettuce and tomatoes I’m guessing for sandwiches, and BBQ potato chips.
“So based on your odd food selections, I take it you don’t cook?” I ask Kira as we walk back to her car in the parking lot.
When she doesn’t bother to give me a verbal response, I glance over my shoulder to see if she’s maybe nodding or some shit.
But she’s not there.
“Shit!” I exclaim as I abandon the cart to jog back up to the front of the store, my heart attempting to thump its way out of my chest as I try to figure out if she disappeared to go back home or if someone grabbed her. Since I have the keys to her car, it doesn’t make sense that she would try to run.
I’m about to go through the sliding doors again to ask for security footage when I do a double take at the kids standing over to the right. I finally recognize her straight, brown hair trailing down her back between two kids and blow out a puff of air in relief.
Kira’s kneeling down with her back to me, so I walk over to see what the hell was so damn important she ran off without telling me.
But then I see the smile on her face, and my anger disappears.
It’s the only time I’ve seen her looking so…bright and happy. It doesn’t take long to see the cause either. There’s a black puppy squirming in her hands.
So I cross my arms over my chest and wait.
“Look how cute,” Kira says when she straightens and holds the puppy out for me to see it.
“Yeah, cute,” I mutter.
Her eyes finally face me head on, and she asks, “Where are the groceries?”
“Back at the car. Would’ve been nice if you had mentioned you were making a pit stop.”
“Sorry,” she replies softly, her face falling before she crouches down to put the mutt back into the cardboard box. Which is a shame because the woman was so stunning when she smiled that it felt like the world stopped spinning.
No. Hell no. I’m not really thinking of giving in on this, am I? I hate animals, especially dogs. T
hey never like me and start barking non-stop when I’m around, as if they can smell the killer in me.
Even Eddie’s dog Sparky, who I’ve been around for years, still growls and snaps his teeth at me if I get too close to him, and he wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“Pick the dog back up,” I tell her.
“What?” she asks.
“Pick it up,” I repeat slowly.
Kira hesitates but eventually listens to me. And when she lifts the squirming mutt in the air again, it’s like watching magic. A switch is flipped, and she’s all beaming sunshine or whatever again.
“You can hold it in the car while I go back and get the food and shit he’ll need.”
“Seriously?” Kira asks, hitting me with her mega-watt smile.
“Seriously,” I agree. “What do we owe you?” I ask the teenager who’s responsible for causing me to make this insane decision.
“Nothing,” he replies. “We just want them to go to good homes.” He eyes me suspiciously like he’s not certain I fit the bill.
“She’ll take good care of him,” I assure him, while pulling a twenty from my pocket and handing it over. It’s the least I can do for making Kira happy.
“Thanks, man,” he replies with a grin when he takes the bill.
“Come on,” I tell Kira. “Let’s see if anyone’s stolen our groceries yet.”
“Sorry,” she tells me yet again.
“Save the apologies for when that little bastard chews up all my shit,” I grumble.
After the groceries are loaded up in the trunk of the car, I open the passenger door for Kira to sit down with the dog.
“I’ll grab his food and be right back,” I tell her, even though I don’t like leaving her here alone in the parking lot.
“Okay, thanks,” she says. “Don’t forget a bowl. He may need some flea medicine too. Oh, and a chew toy!”
Her excitement is cute. So cute that I say, “Do you want to come back in too?”
“Yes, but dogs aren’t allowed,” she points out.
“Hand him over,” I say.
“What? Why?” Kira asks, clutching him to her chest as if she’s afraid I’m going to hurt him. I may be a murderer, but I’m not a monster that goes around hurting innocent animals.
“I’ll hide him so we can both go back,” I explain. Even if an employee sees me with him, it’s not like they would say a word. The Savage Kings have a reputation in town, one that people respect even if they don’t approve.
Finally, Kira holds the mutt up to me, so I take him in one hand and unzip the inside pocket on my cut with my other. A little more than half his body fits since it was made to hold a big gun. And after I button up the front of my cut most of the way, you can’t see his big round head sticking out.
“That actually works,” Kira agrees with a puff of laughter that even makes my lips twitch.
“You’re pushing the cart this time,” I tell her.
“Sure,” she replies happily, grabbing the one we just unloaded. “I really hope he doesn’t pee on you.”
“That makes two of us,” I grumble before we march back into the store to stock up on dog supplies.
Chapter Fourteen
Kira
“My parents never let me have any pets,” I tell Miles when we put our new puppy down in his backyard and watch him bounce around. I think we bought every dog item in the store for him, even a playpen for him to sleep in at night or if we leave, so he should be all set.
“Why not?” Miles asks.
“Because we were never home. And they didn’t want dogs or cats at the store.”
“What kind of store do they have?”
“Furniture. My dad makes everything by hand.”
“Nice,” Miles replies, his arms crossed over his leather vest, dark aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. When I first saw him in the chapel, I thought the leather biker thing was intimidating, but that was before I watched him stuff a puppy into it. “What are you gonna name him?” he asks.
“How about…Blackjack and call him Jack for short?”
“That’s a good name,” he agrees with a hint of a smile on his sensual lips. Lips that have been on very intimate places of my body.
Miles has seen me come completely undone. Heck, he was the person who made me that way. In contrast, he’s always so cool, calm and in control, never appearing to doubt himself for even a second.
And now I’m a nervous wreck around him, especially after seeing this softer side – the one that let me bring home a puppy to make me happy, even though he clearly doesn’t care for them.
Do all women melt into desperate, begging puddles when they’re in bed with him, or was that just me?
I need to get my head out of the gutter, which is why I ask, “So what do you do?”
“What do I do?” Miles repeats.
“To earn a living? Pay for things?”
Uncrossing his arms, he gives the opening of his leather vest a tug. “I’m a Savage King.”
“What’s that?”
“A brotherhood of men who ride Harleys,” he replies.
“But how does riding Harleys amass the type of wealth you have?”
“We own most of the major businesses in town and each get a cut of the proceeds for keeping the city safe.”
“Oh,” I mutter. “So you’re like a civilian law enforcement group?”
“Something like that,” he answers.
“Is it okay if I get a job?” I ask.
“Why the hell do you want a job when you have half a million dollars?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “To have something to do.”
“You have something to do now – take care of the mutt. Anything you need, I’ll buy.”
“So, are you telling me I can’t get a job?”
“No,” he says with a heavy exhale. “I’m just saying you don’t need to.”
“And I can leave whenever I want?”
“You’re not a prisoner,” he mutters.
“Then can I have my car keys back?”
Miles stares at me through his dark shades for several silent seconds before he pulls my keyring from his pocket and tosses them to me.
“I would like to know where you’re going when you leave and when you’ll be back,” he says. “At least leave a note or something so that I won’t worry –.” His words cut off abruptly like he was about to say more but changed his mind.
“Will you do the same?” I ask since I didn’t know where he went last night or when he was coming back.
“Yeah,” he responds while scratching the scruff on the side of his face. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Miles
Kira wants to know where I’m going?
I guess that’s a typical wife thing, even though I haven’t been accountable to anyone since I was thirteen.
Does that mean she doesn’t want me around or she does?
Fuck, it’s hard to get anything out of this woman. And I can’t come right out and ask like a pussy. Me and vulnerability don’t mix at all.
At least she seems to like having the dog. There haven’t been any more tears today, so that’s a plus. While I’m standing there staring at her, trying to figure out what to say next, I hear a low grumble reverberate through the air.
“Was that you or the dog?” I ask, trying to conceal a smile.
“It was me,” Kira says sheepishly. “I don’t really feel hungry, but I guess my stomach is pretty empty.”
“Well, I’m hungry,” I tell her. “You want me to make you something? I was thinking about scrambling some eggs and making some bacon.”
“Breakfast for dinner? That would be great,” Kira replies, flashing me that dazzling smile again as the puppy tumbles over to her feet. “I’ll come in and help you in just a second.”
I give her a nod, but her attention is already back on the dog. I head back inside, digging into the refrigerator to get the eggs and bacon out, then cracking open a can o
f beer.
“Beer and eggs? Yuck!” Kira comments when she comes back inside and sees what I’m doing.
“Cooking is hot work out here on the coast, have to stay hydrated,” I tell her in mock seriousness. She pulls a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and the gallon of milk, then stands beside me at the counter.
“You add anything to those eggs yet?” she asks, nodding to the bowl I’m whisking with a fork.
“They’re eggs,” I reply. “Always thought they were a stand-alone dish.”
“Oh boy, let me hold that,” she says as she reaches over and takes the bowl from me. “You go work on the bacon. That’s a manly job.”
“Not really,” I snort, picking up the paper plate where I had spread the meat on a paper towel, and heading over to the microwave.
“Wait!” Kira stop me. “I know you’re not going to stick that in the microwave. You are an absolute terror in the kitchen. Set that down by the oven and heat up the pan for me, I’ll cook the bacon first and then scramble the eggs with a little bit of the grease.”
“You going to pour milk into them?” I ask skeptically.
“Uh, yeah,” Kira rolls her eyes. “It’s how you get them fluffy!”
“Fluffy!” I snort as I put the bacon down and grab my beer. “Okay then. I’m going to turn on the TV. Call me if you need any help.”
“I see, too manly for fluffy eggs, eh? Don’t worry, I’ll handle it this time, but in the future, I want you to cook with me. Who knows, it could be a good bonding experience.”
I give her another snort and then grab the remote, flipping on the television. It only takes me a moment to realize that the episode of “River Monsters” is one I’ve already seen; and after absorbing Kira’s words about a bonding experience, I decide to give it a shot. I leave the show on behind me as I turn back to the kitchen.
“Show me,” I say as I walk up and lay a hand on her hip. She startles a little bit and tenses up, so I drop my hand and move to the counter beside her. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“No worries, you just surprised me,” Kira says with a blush rising in her cheeks. “I guess I got a little bit too invested in frying up perfect bacon. This will be the first thing I ever cook for you, and I guess I want it to be…”