by Amelia Shea
Macy immediately looked over to his niece and grinned, waving her hand. “Hi.”
He ambled to the counter and grabbed a mug. His sister stood next to him at the stove.
“You sleep good?”
He didn’t answer, thinking his sister was being a wiseass. He glanced over to see her facing Macy.
“Yeah, the bed was super comfortable, and I love the room. I really loved the flowers, they relaxed me.”
“I picked them,” Emme said, resting her hands on Macy’s lap. The kid trusted everyone, never met a stranger.
“Okay, let’s eat,” Trini said. The table was filled with waffles, bacons, eggs, and home fries. He usually didn’t get a spread like this when he came for breakfast. Rourke took a seat between both women. Trini made a plate and handed it to Emme.
“You can watch TV while you eat.”
“I wanna sit at the table.” The little girl protested. The table only fit a family of three.
“You’re always begging me to let you eat in front of the TV.”
“But I want to eat with Macy and Uncle Rourke.”
Rourke hooked his arm around her small waist, propping her on his leg. He moved his plate over to make room her hers and scooted the chair closer to the table. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, wouldn’t be the last. Emme giggled and dove for her milk.
He spent the next fifteen minutes eating and simultaneously maneuvering around the fidgeting five-year-old. He didn’t mind, though. He could see himself being a dad eventually.
Trini monopolized the conversation, which was fine with him. He wondered if Macy had already made the call to Chey to come get her. Bringing her to his place had been a mistake.
He raised the fork to his mouth and glanced up. Macy was staring at him, her eyes soft and thoughtful, the corner of her mouth quirking up.
“What?”
Her eyes widened. “Nothing.”
“Then why are you looking at me?”
“She’s been staring a lot, Uncle Rourke,” Emme said.
“Emme.” Trini’s tone was warning. He kept his focus on Macy, who was turning three shades of red. Leave it to a five-year-old to make her blush. Kids and their honesty, he’d never been more thankful for it than right now.
“Thanks for breakfast, Trini, I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
Macy stood up from the table, taking her plate with her into the attached kitchen. Rourke continued to finish his meal. He leaned down to his fork and Emme cupped her hands to his ear and whispered, “I think she likes you.” Rourke smirked and sat back watching his niece giggle.
“I’m going to head over to your place and get my things. Cheyenne should be here in an hour.” She turned to Trini who had gotten up and gave her a hug. “Thanks again, it was delicious.”
“Come hang out with us sometime, okay?”
Macy’s eyes darted to Rourke, and he watched her draw in a breath. “Sure.” She was out the door before he could finish what was in his mouth. The mood had shifted, and he was pissed as hell. Of course she was going to Cheyenne’s, she said she would. He lifted Emme putting her on the chair and kissing her head before taking the plate to the sink.
She may be leaving, but he had some shit to say, and she was going to listen.
“Dare I ask what you said to send her away? Jeez Rourke, finally got a good one and you send her packing in record time. Way to go, Casanova.”
Rourke angled his head and lowered his voice. “That’s fucking rich coming from a woman who happily greets her cheating ass husband when he decides to show up and play daddy. You gonna feed his new kid, too?”
Her face paled, and he immediately regretted his words. The last person on earth he should be hurting was his sister. He reached out for her arm, but she pulled away.
“Fuck you, Rourke. Why do you always gotta go so damn low?” She sighed heavily, and her eyes welled.
He should apologize, but where would that leave Trini?
“It’s the truth, and you fucking know it. Just give me the word, and I’ll make sure his ass never comes back.”
She sniffled, sucking in a breath and wiping her eyes. “We need him.”
“Bullshit.” He clamped his mouth shut, biting back his anger. His voice was too loud, and he didn’t want to have this fight in front of Emme.
“You only got two left, Uncle Rourke.”
He rolled his eyes and felt a small reprise wash over him. At least there was some lightening of the tone of the room.
He wrapped his arm around his sister. “You got me and the club.” He gave her a squeeze. “And ya got yourself, Tri. You are stronger than ya think. That kid over there, that’s all you. You did that. He ain’t nothing more than some extra cash.”
Trini sniffled. “And I need the cash, Rourke. We have to eat,” She snorted as she glanced up. “Without him, how am I supposed to pay for this palace we call home?” Her lips twitched before she giggled.
“You move up to Ghosttown with me. I’ll get a place big enough for all of us. The club’s got a bunch of jobs, we’ll get ya one. Plenty of people to help out with Emme, if ya need it.”
“I like ghosts,” Emme said.
Rourke glanced over Trini’s head to see Emme on the floor surrounded by dolls with her attention on them. Rourke winked, and she laughed. He leaned closer to his sister. “See, even Emme’s onboard.” He pressed his lips to her head. “You think about it. The offer isn’t going anywhere.”
He circled around Trini, grabbing his phone, and waved to Emme. He had just grabbed the knob when his sister called out to him.
“When you say a place big enough for all of us, does that include Macy?” Trini asked. He didn’t miss the teasing tone followed by a tiny smirk.
He snorted. “Were you at the same breakfast as me, Tri?” He drew in a breath. “I screwed up with her. She’s bailing.”
She smiled with a small shrug. “Is that what you saw, Rourke?” She cocked her brow. “You’re one of the good ones, Rourke. You just gotta show her.”
He scowled and walked out the door.
He made it back to his place in a few minutes, and when he walked in, Macy was sitting on the couch looking at her phone.
He let the door slam behind him, making his presence known. She didn’t even flinch, keeping her eyes locked on the screen.
“They will be here by ten. Until then I’ll stay out of your way, and if you gotta go, I’ll lock up for you.”
He’d screwed up with her and had no idea how to fix it. Relationships were foreign territory for him. He never had an interest until Macy.
“Macy,” he growled. He didn’t like her attitude or the idea of her leaving.
She glanced up and sighed, putting her phone on her lap. “I don’t want to fight again. I’m drained, tired, and extremely irritable, so please, whatever you are going to say, think before you speak.”
His natural instinct was to go on the defense.
“Now, you’re telling me how to fucking talk?”
She rolled her eyes, which only pissed him off.
“No, I’m telling you I don’t have it in me to go another round with you. I get what we had was strictly sexual.” She jerked her gaze down at the table. “I get it. Now.” She twisted her hands together, and her voice lowered. “It’s my fault, I read into this too much, like I was special or something. I’ll get out of here, and we never have to see each other again, okay?”
He clenched his jaw. She hadn’t read into it. She’d been accurate.
“You are special,” he whispered. His tone was feral and came out more as a growl.
She cocked her head. She was scanning his face searching for something. Whatever it was, she didn’t find it. She shook her head. “Yeah, right. So special you shared me.” Macy snorted. She was doing a lousy job at covering up the hurt he could read through her mask. The eyes don’t lie. She sat rigid on the couch with her gaze set on his TV, which wasn’t even on.
The adm
ission of her being special was huge for him, but apparently not for her. As badly as he wanted to fault her, he couldn’t. She didn’t know him, and he sure as hell hadn’t shared anything with her. If he wanted a chance, a fucking sliver of hope, he needed to give her more.
“Sharing was the only option if I wanted to get you. And I wanted you.” He folded his arms, bracing himself for her response. She slowly looked up, clearly not understanding what he was saying. “You were there for a threesome. With Gage, Dobbs or me? I knew it didn’t matter.”
She sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head. “Is that what you really think?”
He cracked his jaw and shrugged. “Just wanted you any way I could get ya.”
“For sex.”
He sighed. “Was never just about the sex, Macy. Not with you.” He glanced up. “Just wanted to be with you.”
He had been told baring his soul would be relieving. It was one big fucking lie. His body tensed as he waited for her to give him something, anything.
Her bottom lip fell open, and she gasped a breath. “Rourke,” she whispered.
Then silence.
Chapter Eleven
The words were on the tip of her tongue when she heard the bikes pull up. Rourke glanced over his shoulder, sliding the tiny curtain back from the window. He didn’t need to make the announcement, Macy knew who it was.
He opened the door and gave a short wave, no longer making eye contact with her. She watched him push open the door as Cheyenne slipped past him, followed by Trax and Gage.
“Hey Mace, you ready?”
It was an out of body experience. Cheyenne was standing in front of her talking, asking her something, then Rourke was walking down the hall to the room she stayed in. She watched the movement around the room as Trax checked his phone then answered a call, and Gage stuck his head in the fridge rummaging around for something before pulling out a beer.
“Gage, it’s not even noon,” Cheyenne said with a chuckle.
He winked and turned the cap. “Haven’t been to bed yet, so it’s still my night.” He took a swig, downing half the bottle. Movement from the hall caught her eye. Rourke had her bags held in one hand, and he stopped near the door.
“You taking the ride to Ghosttown tonight with us?” Gage asked.
“Yeah,” Rourke said without giving her a glance.
She felt a hand circle her back and tilted her head to her friend. Cheyenne smiled. “Ready?”
No, I’m not ready! Rourke had given her a confession of sorts. She wasn’t about to leave with this completely unresolved. He said he wanted her any way he could have her, but it was such a blank statement. Have her how? With sex? More? What, what, tell me? Could this have all turned out so differently, if she had just made her move on him that night at the clubhouse? If she had just grabbed her beer and walked over to his table in the corner, would she have been spending that night with him alone?
You were there for Gage, Dobbs or me? I knew it didn’t matter. No! It had mattered, but he wasn’t seeing it. She flicked her gaze to the door where he stood. All this time spent with him, and he had no idea he was wrong. So fucking wrong. Her head was pounding with indecision. If she walked out the door, would there be another chance with him? Was this it?
“You ready, Mace?” Cheyenne whispered. “The guys got a meeting at the club soon so we gotta get out of here.”
No, she wasn’t ready. She dragged her hand through her hair, pulling at the ends. She needed a meticulous thought out plan on how she was going to approach Rourke, she needed the right words to make him understand it was always him. Just him. Think. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.
You are special.
She stood up, catching the room by surprise.
“Everyone needs to get out,” she blurted. The stares were a cross between amusement and concern she was losing it. She turned to Cheyenne, who was staring up at her as if she’d lost her mind. Her friend stood up.
“Guys, just give us a few minutes. We’ll be out in second, Trax,” Cheyenne said, obviously misunderstanding who Macy was referring to.
She shook her head. “No, need you out too, Chey. I need to talk to Rourke.” She didn’t wait for a response or reaction. She clasped her hand, pulling her to the door. Gathered together at the entry, no one was moving. Macy leaned forward, opened the door and gestured. “I’m sorry but…” She paused. “Get out.”
The soft snickers echoed in the small space.
“Are you even allowed to throw people out of a house that’s not yours?” Gage asked.
A rumbled growl to her left had Macy jerking her head to Rourke who was glaring at his brother. “Yeah, she fucking is.”
Gage burst out laughing, nudging Trax with him, who in turn pulled Cheyenne out the door. She seemed confused while Trax merely appeared amused. She closed the door behind them and turned to Rourke.
She rushed forward, grabbing her bags from his hand and dropped them on the floor. She intertwined her fingers with his and tugged his arm to follow. This seemed so drastic, but nothing about how she felt was rational. She rushed to his bedroom, pulling him through the door and slamming the door closed. Rourke turned to face her but made no move to come closer.
“Why didn’t you come after me first that night?”
His brows knitted. “What?”
“I was there for hours before Gage approached me. If you wanted me so bad like you said before, how come you never came over, talked to me, anything.”
“Talking ain’t one of my strong points.”
She sighed. A smartass remark was not what she needed right now. She wanted him to say the words and mean them. She leaned against the door in defeat. “So that’s it. You wanted to fuck me but didn’t want to talk? Make Gage do all the legwork, and you reap the benefits? Now I get it.”
“You don’t get shit.”
She jerked her head to see his jaw tight and two lines deeply embedded between his brows. This was why a meticulous thought out plan to talk to him was needed. With him on the defense and her passive-aggressive snark, they were doomed.
“Please, Rourke,” she pleaded. “Just tell me, why didn’t you come up and talk to me?”
He balled his fists. “You would have come back to my room, just me, no Gage?”
“Yes.”
Keep calm, just keep calm, and breathe.
“Bullshit.”
Unfortunately, the rational, calm voice in her head stopped talking to her.
She pushed off the door and pointed her finger in his face. “Screw you, Rourke, I would have without him. I waited half the night for you to come up to me, but you spent time with the guys and girls who weren’t me. I figured you weren’t interested, so when Gage approached me, well, yeah, it wasn’t like you wanted me, so I went in the back with him.” She held his stare. “Spent months joking about having a threesome, had five shots of liquid courage swimming through my blood that night, but even with that, when it came to Gage leaving to ‘get a friend’? I was going to back out, Rourke. I wasn’t going to go through with it.” She whispered, “Then you walked through the door.”
Rourke was the king of silence, and his face was nearly impossible to read. He stared down at her, giving her nothing. Fucking give me something! His eyes darkened slightly, but he made no effort to move. She leaned against the door prepared for a showdown. He was not leaving this room until he gave her something.
Rourke was in no way the dream man she had created in her ten-year-old mind as the perfect man. That bill fit more on her ex, Jason, than the man standing in front of her, but she had it all wrong back then. She had a vision of what her Prince Charming was supposed to be like, and the man standing in leather with a sharp glare was not it. Yet, this was him. She knew it, she could feel it, she just needed something, anything, from him. She sighed, cocking her head to the side.
“Please,” she whispered.
He seemed shocked by her muttered one syllable plea. In an instant, his tense body
seemed to relax slightly, and his gaze searched her face.
“What?” His hands spread out in front of him. “What do you want from me?”
What the hell did she want?
She pushed off the door and walked toward him, stopping only a few feet away. He was so big in the small room.
“Ask me to stay.” She gulped. “With you.” Her voice was low, but her eyes were directly on him. His breath hitched and muttered a curse, staring up at the ceiling.
“I told you. Stay, if ya wanna stay.”
She shook her head and noticed the flicker in his gaze.
“I want you to want me to stay.” She was pleading. “I want you to ask me.”
He sighed and shook his head. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
This was not how she wanted it. She didn’t want obligation or some flimsy offer. She wanted him to say the words. She wanted to know he wanted her there. He wouldn’t give her that, or maybe he couldn’t. She dropped her gaze to the floor. If this is the way it ended, then she was gonna give him everything.
She shoved her hands in her pockets.
“I thought you were out of my league.” It was embarrassing and painful to say the words. “You never approached me or anything, so I didn’t even think I had a chance with you. You have women at your disposal, why would you want me, right?” God, this physically hurts. She grasped her neck, massaging her collar bone to distract her mind of how pathetic she sounded. “And then when I finally get you, I fuck it up.” She snorted. “And then when I think I might have another shot like last night. I fuck that up too.”
The sound of engines starting up knocked her out of her pathetic admission. It served as a reminder he needed to go, and she was thankful her self-torture was coming to an end.
“I’m gonna go.” She turned, refusing to look at him, and stepped to the door. She gripped the handle and turned, but his hand slammed down on the wood, keeping it closed. His chest grazed her back, and she could feel the warmth of his body. She bit her lip, gripping the handle firm against her palm.
“I’ll stay with Chey at Trax’s.” She pulled on the door, but it made no movement. Rourke’s hand was leaning on the wood, allowing no budge.