The ache so familiar now, the type you felt after finding the person you loved more than anyone else in the world, the person you’d risk it all for, even kill for. He never thought that type of love existed, not until more than seven years of feeling his stomach knot every time he looked at her.
He smiled unable to help it. If what she said didn’t mean she cared very strongly about him, he didn’t know what did. Maybe, just maybe, she even loved him.
“Thomas?” She waved her hand in his face. “You haven’t said anything for several minutes.”
He released a breath then dragged her to him and pressed his lips against hers for a quick, hard, closed-mouthed kiss. “You, baby girl, are so special.”
She quirked a brow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, it is.”
“So, we’re staying?”
Shit, that’s what they’d been talking about. He hadn’t changed his mind. He shook his head.
“Mia, Lynn, and Allie will be here. I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated before her pleading eyes did him in. That and the fact, she never asked for anything. Not ever, she always did what he wanted to do, watched what he wanted to watch. And so, he nodded.
****
Friday Night Fiasco, Tiffany’s first of many, she hoped. While she heard stories, she didn’t know what to expect. She worried, a little, because she was scared to see something she couldn’t handle. She could handle seeing bikers making out with scantily dressed women they used for sex or maybe even catching a glimpse of bikers partake in a threesome, though she didn’t look forward to the last. But Thomas’s reaction to the scantily dressed women? She feared she couldn’t handle that.
The fear forgotten when she reached the living room. Music blared, bombarding her senses. She scanned the room. Several of the brothers sat on those misshapen couches, drinks in hand, talking loud enough to be heard over the music. The television on, a football game on the screen, but no one seemed to be paying much attention to it. Women, dressed in barely-there short skirts, tube tops, six-inch heels, wandered. Her gaze flew to her left. Beef stood behind the bar, pouring drinks for several brothers. Just in front of the bar was Allie, surrounded by Mia, Lynn and, of course, Trig. His arm draped around her shoulders. Tiffany hadn’t seen Allie since she visited her early that week. She looked better, smiling wide, only a light bruise marred her cheek.
Pulling away from Thomas, she strode Allie’s way. Allie shifted, her gaze met hers then she took a step in her direction.
Tiffany hugged her lightly. “You look great, Allie.”
Allie quirked a brow then drew her stare behind Tiffany before she whispered, “Not as good as you.”
Just then, Thomas’s arm circled her waist, heating her. Her hand went to her hip, gripping his fingers.
“Congrats.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s get drinks, ladies.” Mia grabbed both their hands, pulling them toward the bar.
She lurched forward then stopped when Thomas’s arm around her waist tightened.
Mia, in her playful way, glared at Thomas. “You can let her go for a couple of hours, so we can have girl talk, can’t you?”
Tiffany lifted her head up and to her side to look his way. She caught sight of him shaking his head. “Thomas.”
He slanted his face down.
She knew he was uneasy about her attending Friday Night Fiasco, so she needed to continue to assure him. As edgy as she felt herself about the possibility of seeing something she couldn’t handle, she had to, had to do this for him. She didn’t want him to wake up one day and regret missing out on club events because of her. The club meant a lot to him, so it meant a lot to her. Most importantly, she wanted to be a part of Thomas’s life, all of his life, and his life included the club. “I’ll be fine.”
Thomas, looking like he’d refuse, hesitated.
Trig chuckled. “Gotta let her go sometime, Cuss.”
Thomas shot a heated glare his way. “Don’t fuckin’ want to.”
The breath froze in the back of her throat, making it hard to speak without sounding affected. “I’ll be right there,” she said to Mia.
She turned, angling her body so she and Thomas stood chest to chest and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
Giving her an are-you-kidding-me look, he snapped, “I want you with me.”
Damn. So sweet. Her heart melted, making her insides warm. Still, there had to be an underlying reason he didn’t want to let her go.
Hoping to soften him, she placed her hand on his chest then twirled her fingers in circles over it. He loved it. He’d told her so, and every time she did it, he’d draw his gaze to her fingers then break out into a huge smile.
“I’m with you, Thomas. I’m just going to spend some time with Mia, Lynn, and Allie. I’ll be at the other end of the room.”
As he took that in, his gaze softened. Not long before it hardened again. He leaned into her, pressing his forehead against hers. “That’s not with me. That’s at the other end of the room. I wanna have you sitting beside me, so I can feel your skin against mine. I wanna be able to touch and kiss you.”
Her hand froze on his chest. The look on his face, she didn’t know what it meant. She studied him for several moments. At first glance, he appeared angry, jaw tight, shoulders and body tense. If she hadn’t been so familiar with his every mannerism and expression, she wouldn’t have realized there was more. Eyes soft and compounded with his drawn brows made her feel like he was silently begging. Thomas didn’t beg. Thomas commanded.
“What are you afraid of?”
His eyes widened only slightly, his chest no longer rising and falling with each breath. Face transforming, he clenched his jaw hard enough the muscles twitched. No man wanted to be afraid of anything.
After a long moment, he seemed to get a hold of that anger. When he spoke, his voice had softened. “That you’ll see something that’ll prove we’re different. That someone’ll say something that’ll make you realize it or make you question us. That you’ll leave me ’cause of it.”
Damn. Why did he say things like that all the time? When they’d been just friends, he’d say and do things that made her think he cared about her as more than a friend. And now, he said and did things that made her think he loved her. Maybe even as much as she loved him.
She was so tempted to tell him then and there exactly how she felt. Instead she swallowed the emotion choking her. “You have to trust me, too, Thomas.”
Looking away for a brief moment, he released a loaded breath. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.
She started to twirl her finger on his chest. “The only thing that can make me leave is you.”
He leaned into her, cupping her cheeks. “That’s what I’m afraid of, baby girl.”
She shook her head, still in his grip. “Not what I meant. I meant if you hurt me.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “That’ll never happen, so does that mean you’ll be with me till I stop breathing?”
Her heart started pounding against her chest so loud, it made it hard to catch her breath. Throat so dry, she couldn’t say anything.
His jaw went hard. “That a no?”
No! It was a yes! “Yes.”
“Yes, it’s a no?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“No, yes that wasn’t a no or—” He shook his head. By the look on his face, he’d confused himself as much as he’d confused her.
She chuckled. “It means I’ll be with you until you push me away, Thomas.”
He grinned. “Till death then.” Lifting his head, he pressed his lips against her forehead. He then met her gaze again. “If there’s an afterlife, then longer.”
With those last words, he turned and walked away. She watched him, wondering if he said what she heard or if her mind tricked her into hearing it.
“Tiff?”
She snapped out of her haze, strode toward Mia, Lynn, and Allie who’d
taken seats at the bar. As she neared, Mia handed her a glass of wine, knowing it was her preferred drink.
“Must’ve said something out of this world.”
Tiffany sat in an unoccupied stool. Taking a deep gulp of wine, she then met Mia’s gaze.
“After he walked away, you stood there like a zombie for a while, so the real question is whether you’re going to share.”
No, she wouldn’t, couldn’t share something she couldn’t believe he said.
Mia grinned. “By the way, I have to say, I told you so.”
She lifted her drink to her mouth because she needed another sip. When Mia spoke, she paused. “What?”
“About Thomas,” Lynn added. “We told you last week.”
They had. She hadn’t believed them. But now, she knew everything.
Allie smiled then lifted her beer to toast. “To Tiff and Cuss.”
Shaking her head, she raised her glass and corrected, “To Allie’s speedy recovery.”
Lynn and Mia simultaneously raised their drinks. “To Tiff and Cuss and to Allie’s recovery,” Lynn said. Mia seconded.
They toasted then took sips.
Mia placed her glass on the bar top. “So let’s hear it.”
They wanted details. They’d called all week wanting to know. Even Allie who was recovering called. “I think we should talk about something else…like how Allie’s feeling.”
Allie shook her head, smiling. “I’m fine, and I’ve been dying to find out about you two. Do you realize how long I’ve been throwing hints his way?”
Throwing hints his way? Had Allie hinted to Thomas how she felt? Her eyes widened. “W-what?”
Mia released a breath and rolled her eyes. “Tiff, love you, but seriously, you’re clueless when it comes to Cuss. I’m still trying to figure out how you could not know he has feelings for you.” She looked behind Tiffany then met her stare again. “I mean…even now, he can’t stop looking at you, and it’s always been that way.”
Tiffany shifted, her gaze seeking him. Thomas, at the other end of the room, sat on the couch facing her, surrounded by several of his brothers, Trig, Army, Stone, Mellow, and Wild, but his sapphire stare was glued to her. Snared, she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
Until a shiny object caught her sight, her gaze shot to the bracelet on a woman’s wrist. The woman, a blonde wearing a leather mini-skirt, seven-inch clear stripper heels, and a crop top strode in her path, in front of Thomas. Tiffany watched the woman bend toward Thomas, giving her a peek under her skirt. No underwear, and clearly offering herself to Thomas, her Thomas.
Heart clenching, Tiff held her breath, knowing she should look away yet unable to garner the strength. A moment later, she caught sight of Thomas again when he stood and walked to her. The woman turned extending her arm, attempting to hand him a beer, her brows drawn.
Thomas ignored her and strode directly to Tiffany. He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her deep. Drawing away, he asked her to get him a beer. She spared a glance behind him at the woman. Thomas proved his point. The woman moved on, offering the beer to one of the other brothers, bending over as seductively as the first time.
“Not just to prove a point, baby girl,” he said, knowing exactly what she’d been thinking.
Her gaze slid to his. Moments like those, she loved he knew her so well.
“Wanted a kiss since I walked away.”
She stood from her stool and grabbed Thomas a beer. He took it, thanking her with a kiss, strode to the other side of the room, and sat beside Stone.
The rest of the night as she partook in “girl talk” and topped off three glasses of wine, she made sure Thomas always had a fresh beer. The moment he set an empty bottle down, she stood and offered him a new one.
For her efforts and though she’d done it more for peace of mind, he rewarded her. She didn’t need to be, but she took her reward just the same.
Chapter Nineteen
Tiffany checked the oven. Spotting the meatloaf nearly done, she lowered the temperature, straightened, and stirred the mashed potatoes in the pot. She then glanced at her watch for the fifth time. Near six-thirty, Thomas still wasn’t home. Unusual. He arrived home or at her home by five-thirty the latest.
Over the course of the last month, they’d gotten into a pattern of sorts, an amazing, out-of-this-world pattern. With the exception of when he or she was at work, Thomas spent every waking moment with her. Friday nights, they stayed at the compound, but the rest of the week, they spent at her place. Though they were practically living together, technically, he hadn’t moved in because, for one, he hadn’t moved stuff in. He had clothes and shoes in her closet, of which he’d brought little by little over the course of more than a month and left scattered in her room, bathroom, or living room. She’d been the one to wash, dry, and hang his clothes in her closet. Second and most importantly, he never said he wanted to move in, so technically though they were practically living together, they weren’t, officially.
She wasn’t complaining though, not about the mess he left in every room, not that she cooked four to five nights a week, not that she did his laundry and maintained his room at the compound clean too. She wouldn’t complain about anything relating to Thomas, ever. In all honesty, she didn’t have anything to complain about. Even on her worst days, those days when she had it rough at work, needed a break, and didn’t have the energy to clean up after a grown man, he made it worth it.
The moment Thomas saw her, he knew, and he made it better, made her better. He’d wrap his arms around her and hold her tight for several long moments. Then he’d cup her face and kiss her softly. By the time, he did this, she’d already forgotten her not-so-great-day. Still, he’d take her out to dinner or order in to ease her load. So simple, so effortless, and it meant the world to her he wanted to make her day better and took the time to do it.
She thought she loved him before, and she supposed she had. It had been unrequited, the worst kind of love, one-sided, loving from a distance without truly knowing the object of your affection. But then, they became friends, she grew to know him, the real him: his character, his mannerisms and expressions. Her love grew and evolved, though still unrequited, she knew with certainty she’d been right to have loved him from a distance for so long. Now, she knew him, all of him. Knowing him completely, she knew she was madly, undeniably, and irreversibly in love with him.
Because she loved him so much, because they’d been inseparable for weeks, she could barely focus, checking her watch every minute, waiting for him to arrive. He called around five and told her he’d be late, and still, she was impatient.
Needing to distract herself, she strode into the living room and turned on the television. Flipping through the channels, a picture of a man flashed across the screen. She paused and read the words written under the image: Man Found Beaten to Death. She raised the volume, listening intently, and trying to remember why the man looked so familiar, dirty blonde hair, ripped, and tatted.
It hit her, and when it did, the breath rushed out of her.
He looked familiar because she’d met him. The dead man was one of the bikers she and Thomas had a run-in with weeks ago, the biker who made those crude comments.
Her gaze glued to the television, she dropped the remote when the reporter on the scene, a mile outside of Wadden, stated the body had been found that morning, but police believed he’d been killed last night. Last night, she’d made Thomas dinner, and then, he left on a run.
Could it have been Thomas? Because of the things the biker said to her?
What I do know, he hurts you, nothing can stop me from putting him in the ground, so I can’t promise you.
Her stomach turned. Shit. What the hell was she supposed to do? She loved him! She couldn’t imagine walking away from him, from them. The real question, if Thomas had killed him, would she?
Bile rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down, leaned back against the couch, finally tearing her gaze from the television. C
losing her eyes tightly, she shook her head, her mind scrambling, trying to find a reasonable explanation. There had to be one. She knew deep down the man she loved couldn’t beat a man to death, come home to her, lie in bed with her, make love to her then fall asleep holding her close.
He just couldn’t.
He wasn’t capable of it.
He was Thomas, the man who held her every night, all night, the man she loved for years, and he was finally hers.
The sound of the deadbolt turning drew her attention to the front door. Thomas strode in, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.
One look at her, and the smile died on his lips. Nothing got past him. Then again, she was probably whiter than snow. It wouldn’t be so hard to guess.
“What’s…” His words trailed off, his stare shooting to the television screen.
Police have no leads into the death of the biker from the motorcycle gang, Chained Disciples…
His whole body stiffened, muscles clenched. “Fuck,” he cursed to no one. Not a moment later, he met her gaze and plucked his phone out of his pocket. “Get whatever you need. We’re leaving.”
He then spared a glance at his phone, hit the screen, and brought it to his ear. “Seen the news?” He paused listening to the other end. “Yeah, be there in a few.”
He dropped his phone into his pocket. “Tiff, up. Now. Let’s go.”
Why? She wanted to ask. Instead, she sat there staring at him, feeling nothing but the heaviness in her chest.
He took three menacing steps toward her. “Tiffany, no time for this right now. Get whatever you need. Let’s go.”
Should she go? With him? Why did they have to go? Because he’d killed the biker? It looked it. It looked like he planned on taking her with him, too. Where would he take her?
“W-why?”
Grabbing her hand, he dragged her off the couch, tugged her out of the living room into the hallway leading into her bedroom. “Ain’t safe.”
Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2) Page 19