“Why?”
“Why what?”
“You…” she whispers, swallowing. “Why now?”
Understanding the question, I bend my head and brush my lips gently over hers.
“Now seems like just as good of a time as any,” I murmur, taking her hand in mine.
Interlocking our fingers, I lead her out of the pew. Freezing in her tracks, she gives my hand a squeeze and causes me to turn my head. Releasing her hold on me, she walks towards the row of candles in front of the chapel. I lean against the door and watch as she makes the sign of the cross and lights a candle. Sending a prayer to God, she bows her head and my eyes sweep back to the cross.
Make me a believer again.
Once she’s finished, she joins me at the back of the chapel and reaches for my hand. There are no words spoken between us as we leave the hospital and make our way to the Charger. I watch her wince as she draws the seatbelt against her chest and leans in to adjust the strap. She thanks me with her eyes and I move behind the wheel. The drive back to her house is just as quiet and when we reach her door, she breaks the silence.
“Thank you,” she says, leaning against the door. “I—what’re you doing?” she questions, diverting her eyes to my feet.
Bending my knees, I pull the laces on my boots.
“Open the door, Lady.”
It takes a moment for her to get her ass in gear but eventually she does as she’s told and opens the door. Stepping inside, she turns and watches as I follow her into the house. Closing the door behind me, I remove my boots and neatly set them on the mat before taking her hand.
“What are you doing, Al?”
What feels right.
Pulling her away from the door, I lead her through the house and towards her bedroom. Standing at the foot of the bed, I grunt as I take in the mountain of fancy pillows.
“Jesus Christ, Lady, you sure like your pillows,” I mutter, plucking them from the mattress.
“Al—”
“Is there a ritual or something you do with these things?”
“They’re pretty,” she answers.
“Yeah, they’re fucking stunning,” I grunt, piling them on the chair in the corner of the room. Done with that task, I turn down the comforter and lift my gaze to hers. “You got a nightgown or something you want to change into?”
“Al, I appreciate the ride—”
“I bet,” I tease.
“Funny,” she fires back.
“I thought so. Now, which drawer do you keep your nightgowns in?”
Sighing, she cocks her head to the side, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You’re not going to quit, are you?”
“No.”
“Will you leave after you tuck me in?”
“No.”
Truthfully, I had no intention of walking into the house. I thought I’d drive her home, get rid of the rental and go back to the hospital to get her car. Maybe I’d check on her but that was it. It wasn’t until she was standing at the door, ready to dismiss me that I realized I couldn’t leave, that I didn’t want to.
Accepting my answer, she steps around me and opens the top drawer of her dresser. I watch her pull out a silk nightgown and step out of her shoes.
“Can you give me a minute?” she questions, twisting the silk between her fingers.
“Yeah,” I nod.
Swiping a hand over my face, I respect her need for privacy and start for the door. As I’m about to step into the hallway, a thought hits me and forces me to turn back to her.
“I don’t care.”
“Excuse me?”
“Had you under me, Lady, and I saw every inch of you,” I explain, standing in the doorway. “You don’t got to hide from me. If you want your privacy, I’ll give that to you but don’t send me out of the room because you think I’m going to look at you any differently than I did last night. Trust when I say I’m itching to throw you up against that wall and fuck your brains out.”
In all my years, no truer words have left my lips.
I don’t know what this thing is between us if we’re just two lonely people finding comfort in one another or if it’s more. What I do know is that I’m not willing to forget last night happened. As far as I’m concerned, it was a prelude and there is more of that to be found—plenty more. Am I the right guy for Maria—probably not, but I don’t want to walk out this door with just another notch in my belt.
Without speaking, she lifts her hands and starts to undo the buttons of her blouse. Wincing slightly, the fabric slides off her shoulders and down her arms. My eyes move to her breasts and I catch sight of the bandage covering the underside of her breast. Before she can reach behind her to unclasp the bra, I move towards her and pin her arms to her side. Lifting my hands to her shoulders, I turn her around and dip my head. Finding her neck with my mouth, I unclasp the bra and gently draw it away from her body. She hisses through her teeth causing me to lift my gaze. I find her staring at her reflection in the mirror, inspecting the bandage covering the incision site.
“You never think it can happen to you,” she whispers, meeting my gaze in the mirror. Running my hands down her arms, I kiss her shoulder. Seeming to remember the nightgown, she takes my hand and shoves the soft material into my palm. “Will you help me put it on?”
“Anything you need,” I reply hoarsely.
It must be painful for her to lift her arm because her face contorts with discomfort as she closes her eyes. Wanting to ease whatever she’s feeling I make quick work of pulling the nightgown over her head. Her arms drop to her side as I kneel and reach under the silk. Finding the elastic of her pants, I drag them down her legs. She holds onto my shoulders as she steps out of them.
Looking up at her, my hands travel up her legs, between her thighs and around, squeezing her ass.
“Can I ask you something?” she questions, pushing her fingers through my hair.
“Ask away.”
“Why does everyone call you Wolf? I know the nicknames are something you all have but why, Wolf?”
Considering her question, I keep my hands on her ass and stand tall.
“Lots of reasons,” I say. “Mainly because a wolf is a patient and powerful, relentless creature. He walks alone until he chooses the pack that stands behind him, then he fights with all he is and all he’ll ever be to protect and honor them.”
“I get that,” she replies thoughtfully.
“Yeah, you do.”
Because I choose you.
Chapter Seventeen
I was having an out of body experience. That’s the only logical explanation as to why I was lying in bed with Al, eating Chinese food out of paper cartons. I didn’t even argue when he suggested we nix the silverware and try our luck with chopsticks. Of course, I was worried about staining the sheets—duck sauce is a bitch to get out, but I bit my tongue and threw caution to the wind. In theory, I suppose it’s a greater expense to live with regrets than to buy a new set of ivory sheets.
Everyone should have one messy meal in their bed with an incredibly sexy man.
Put that on your bucket list and make sure you check it off.
I promise it’ll be worth it.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, drawing my attention to him. Sprawled out on my bed, with his back propped against the headboard, I stare at him and marvel over how he fits. Tattoos, beard and all, he belongs right here with me, lounging against my satin sheets, plucking General Tso’s chicken from a takeaway carton.
“You’re breaking all my rules,” I say finally, lifting my eyes to his.
“Rules are meant to be broken, Lady,” he points out, popping the piece of chicken into his mouth.
“Yeah, I guess they are,” I agree, taking a bite of my egg roll.
If you’re going to live it up and eat in bed, you might as well eat one of the messiest foods.
“I have to head out soon,” he begins, placing the carton on the nightstand. “Got some shit wi
th my kid I need to deal with,” he grunts, looking off into space. Though his beard covers most of his face, I can still make out the twitch in his jaw.
“Is everything okay?”
“Nico’s decided he’s going to join a club.”
“I’m going to assume he’s not joining Oprah’s book club.”
He snaps his eyes back to me and I shrug innocently, taking another bite of my egg eggroll.
“Nice to see you feeling better,” he mumbles. With my mouthful, I can’t help but laugh as he winds a strand of my hair around his finger. “To answer your question, no; Nico’s not looking to join Oprah on her crusade to recruit readers around the globe.”
Bypassing the fact I’m super impressed he knows anything at all about Oprah and her international book club, I focus on what he’s sharing.
“Well, if he’s going to join a club wouldn’t it make sense for it to be the Satan’s Knights?”
“He’s not joining shit,” he growls. “I didn’t spend his whole life keeping my distance just so he can follow in my footsteps, anyway.”
“You sound like you have regrets.”
“Don’t we all?” he replies, releasing the piece of hair he was toying with. “It comes with the sentence.”
“I suppose but if we learn from our regrets doesn’t that change the game?”
“Sometimes we wake up too late,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You learn from yours, Lady?”
“I like to think so,” I reply, contemplating if there is truth to my answer.
If I look back on my regrets, I’d say choosing bad men is at the top of the list. I’d like to say I broke the cycle after my husband but through the years, I’ve repeated the same mistake. I gave my time to men who were undeserving. I trusted the untrustworthy and fell for the ones I always thought I could fix. It wasn’t until recently that I realized my worth.
Anthony thinks I allowed Lenny to take advantage of me. He thinks I lent him that money because I was blinded by love. He doesn’t know Lenny didn’t ask for the money or that I gave the money with no intention of ever being paid. Lenny’s son was an addict and he couldn’t afford to help him into rehab. It didn’t matter that we dated a while back that had nothing to do with why I helped him. I did it because if it was me in that situation, I would want someone to show me the same kindness.
“Name one,” Al challenges.
“I’m not the first woman to love a bad man once or twice in a lifetime but, I learned I can’t fix the broken,” I admit, cocking my head to the side. A smile spreads across my lips as I stare at him. “And, I’m better for it.”
“That right?” he murmurs. His gaze falls to my lips. “How do you figure?”
“Well for one, it makes it easy to appreciate the good man sitting next to me now.”
“I’m not a good man, Lady.”
“Don’t short yourself, Al,” I whisper. “You wouldn’t be here with me if you weren’t.”
“Then, maybe I’m better for it too,” he says. Touching his large hand to my cheek, he brings me closer to him and presses his lips to mine. As brief of a kiss as it is, there’s power behind it. It consumes my mind, body, and soul and when it’s over when his mouth leaves mine, I feel the loss in my bones.
Never…
Never in my life have I felt that.
I should probably add that to my list of regrets, but I suppose it’s better to feel something late in life, than to never feel it at all. Suddenly, the air becomes thick and I find myself needing to change the subject. I place the half-eaten egg roll in the wrapper and drop it on the nightstand. Taking a paper towel, I wipe my hands and turn back to Al.
“What are you going to do about Nico?”
“What I do best,” he answers vaguely. Stretching his arms over his head, he tosses his legs over the side of the mattress. “I’m going to clean this mess and get a move on. I’ll grab your car first.”
“It’s okay, I can get it tomorrow on my way to work.”
“Didn’t I tell you back at the hospital that I’d handle your car?”
“Well, yes but—”
“But, nothing. When I say I’m going to do something, Lady, I do it.”
Have I mentioned, he always needs to have the last word—I bet that’s another reason they call him Wolf. He’s also very attentive—something, I never quite pegged him to be. Collecting the remnants of our meal, he shoves everything into the delivery bag until there is no trace of our scandalous bed-eating. He moves to my side and glances at my chest.
After he dressed me in my nightgown and gave me a bag of frozen peas to put on my breast, neither of us mentioned the biopsy or the meltdown that occurred afterward. I was beginning to realize Al was my favorite distraction and quite possibly the best medicine for a woman in my situation. Another scary thought for someone as jaded as me.
“Do you need anything before I go?”
“No,” I say with a smile. “You’re off duty,” I tease.
His lips work into a thin line as he crosses his arms against his chest.
“You’re not a job, Maria.”
“I know that,” I say softly. “All I meant is that you’ve been great today. You gave me everything I needed without me even knowing I needed it.”
Reaching behind him, he cups the back of his neck and nods uncomfortably.
“I haven’t asked questions because I don’t want to make you upset,” he reveals, meeting my gaze. “That don’t mean I don’t got any.”
“I told you everything I know.”
“Right,” he nods again. Cocking his head to the side, he blows out a ragged breath. “I know this thing between us is new and unexpected but like I said before, I’m here. Whether you need a partner or a friend, I’ll be here if it’s nothing and I’ll be here if it’s something.”
“A partner?”
“I don’t know why you date at forty-eight years old but, I know why I do.”
“Al,” I whisper, pausing. “I’m too old for a fairytale.”
“Don’t know if you’ve taken a good look at me, darlin’, but I’m not exactly prince-fucking-charming,” he replies, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. “We both got busy lives and misfits for kids…”
Drawing my hand to my face, I cover my mouth and mask the smile.
“But you give this thing between us a shot and I promise you won’t regret it. You’ll never doubt we were worth the wait,” he murmurs.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“The first draft of anything is usually shit,” he replies, taking my hand. Lacing our fingers together, he dips his head and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “Turns out, I learned from my regrets too, Lady. I’m ready to write one fuck of an ending on this story.”
For so long I accepted my happy ending didn’t include a man. It was me on my own, picking up the pieces of my life and starting over, freeing myself of a lifetime of bad choices and worse men. For me, my happily ever after was moving on and watching my children live happy lives.
Leaning into him, I thread my fingers through his hair and touch my forehead to his.
But life is funny isn’t it?
Life doesn’t care about your wants until you give up on them.
Life gives after it takes.
It gives you the man you waited for—the man you wished for.
Then it takes.
It takes your strength.
Your will.
Your heart.
And sometimes it takes you.
“You should run, Al,” I whisper. “Forget these last two days ever happened and keep searching for that happy ending because this isn’t it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Slamming the car door, I drop a fist onto the roof of the Charger.
Run.
Only a fucking coward would run but instead of telling that to Maria, I silently accepted her dismissal like some fucking challenge because I figured her head wasn’t right. She was still reeling from the biopsy and sca
red as fuck to learn the results. She could brave a smile and try to hide that shit, but I saw right through her armor and like a putz, I added to her already full plate. Now, her car is parked on her driveway just like I promised and I’m trying to rein myself in before I fuck things up any more than I already have.
“Wolf?”
At the sound of Pipe’s voice, I hang my head and mutter a curse.
I do not want to deal with this motherfucker right now. Not, in the mood, I’m in. Actually, scratch that—I don’t want to deal with him on a good day either. Fucking guy goes and gets lost in the woods only to come back with a ready-made family. Now, all he does is preach about peace and positivity.
Fuck that fucking shit.
And fuck him too.
Peace is for pussies and positivity doesn’t exist.
“What the fuck are you doing here at this hour?” he questions as his boots pound the pavement behind me.
“Obviously, I came here this late thinking all you idiots would be gone by now.”
“And, why the fuck are you driving a car?”
“Shouldn’t you be tucking in a fleet of kids and polishing your ol’ lady’s brass knuckles?” I growl.
“Yeah, I should be but unlike some people, I take care of my responsibilities.”
That strikes a cord and I turn to him.
If looks could kill this motherfucker would be six-feet deep in the earth.
“The fuck you know about responsibilities, Pipe? It took you forty-five years to learn what one was, and once you did, you decided to be an over-achiever by taking on four at one shot. How’s that working out for you?”
“Great, man, you should try it.”
“Fuck you.”
“What the hell has gotten into you, Scotto? First, you go rogue with this Cain shit, then you turn your fucking patch in and now, you show up here looking like you’re ready to drop a body. For fuck’s sake are you having a mid-life crisis? Is that why you’re riding around in this thing?” he questions, pointing to the car.
Riding The Edge Page 14