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THE BABY PACT: The Twisted Saints MC by Sophia Gray (33)


Lilah

 

“What happened in there?” Jenna asked on the ride home.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, already feeling embarrassed for overreacting.

 

“I’m not going to take that for an answer. One minute you’re talking to him about tattoos and going on and on about your divorce, and the next, you’re running out of the shop. What the hell?”

 

“He asked me out,” I admitted.

 

“Okay, and…” she responded, like it was nothing.

 

“And what? Isn’t that weird enough?”

 

“You’ve been saying you wanted to change your life up. Now’s the chance,” she argued.

 

I looked out the window as we drove out of the city. She was right. Cole, the owner of the tattoo parlor, could have offered me a great opportunity to get out of my comfort zone. But it was kind of like that tattoo. I wasn’t quite ready to take that next step yet.

 

Maybe I’d been lying to myself the whole time, and I wasn’t really going to make any changes. Maybe I was going to continue doing the same things I had always done. Maybe I needed to forget the whole thing and go back to the life I’d been leading. I had a son to think about. I didn’t need to be getting mixed up with all of that out there.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Jenna prodded.

 

“I just freaked out. I don’t even know why. Too much at one time maybe? I’m sorry, you probably think I’m a wreck.” Tears of frustration threatened to fall from my eyes.

 

“No, really, it’s okay. You’re right. It is a lot to try to change at one time. But take it easy on yourself, okay?” she said, reassuring me. “No one said you had to do this overnight, or even at all.”

 

I laughed. “I feel like a wimp.”

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“I went in there to try to prove something to myself, but when the opportunity presented itself to me, I balked. I ran. Literally. I turned and nearly sprinted out the door.”

 

“I’ll admit, it was a little drastic, but don’t beat yourself up. That’s not going to help at all,” she said, continuing to talk me up and encourage me.

 

We arrived at my house and pulled up the driveway. It was a small white house with a yard for Micah to play in. My ex had left it to me in the divorce, claiming he never liked it anyway. He said he’d only bought it so we’d have room to raise a family.

 

“Good luck handling that mortgage without me,” he’d told me at the final divorce hearing when we’d signed off on the final draft of our divorce papers. Luckily, the mortgage payments were low enough that my salary at the library was able to cover them.

 

“Are you going to be okay to stay alone?” Jenna asked as she parked behind my car.

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for putting up with me this evening. Maybe next time, I’ll actually do it.”

 

“Don’t sweat it. See you tomorrow?”

 

I reached down to grab my purse. “Uh-oh. I think I did something worse than embarrass myself by running out of there.”

 

“What?” She looked over at my seat.

 

“I left my purse.” As if the evening needed to get any worse. I tilted my head back and groaned.

 

“We can go back if you need to?” Jenna offered.

 

“You don’t mind? I don’t have a spare key.” And even if I did, my car key and the keys to the library were on there. I might have managed to get into the house without my keys, but I wasn’t going anywhere else after that.

 

She laughed. “I don’t mind. Maybe we can stop and grab a bite to eat on the way back.”

 

She put the car in reverse and started to back out of the driveway, but at the same time, a motorcycle pulled up and turned down the driveway, coming up behind us.

 

“Who is that?” I asked, squinting through the glare of the headlights at the man on the bike. “Oh, my God, is that the guy?”

 

“You mean, the dude you were talking to?” Jenna replied.

 

“Yeah, I think it is. We may not need to go back after all.” I tried to hide my excitement. I didn’t want it to be too obvious that I was thankful to get another opportunity to talk to the owner of the tattoo parlor. Not to mention I was impressed that he was enough of a gentleman to bring my purse to me.

 

“Well, if you’re fine, I think I’ll leave you two alone,” Jenna said with a suggestive lift of her eyebrows.

 

My heart fluttered. I had been reaching for the door to get out, but I hesitated. I still wasn’t completely sure it was a good idea to be left alone with him. Jenna picked up on it.

 

“Don’t worry. Don’t let yourself freak out again, okay? You’ll be fine. Thank him for bringing your purse back. Maybe invite him in for a few minutes before he has to run back to the shop. He’s obviously into you, and it’s painfully obvious from where I’m sitting that you’re into him. You know, he’s also got the whole chivalry thing going on by figuring out your address and bringing your purse to you instead of hoping you’d show back up,” she explained.

 

I glanced over my shoulder. He’d pulled off into the yard, getting out of the way of Jenna’s Mazda MX-5 Miata. When he got off his bike, I had the opportunity to check out his body, and I had to admit that he looked good. I needed to get over my fear and talk to him.

 

“Alright. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I told her, exhaling dramatically to calm myself. “Text me when you get home.” I realized at that moment that my phone was in my purse, too.

 

I got out and walked around the front of the car as she backed out of the driveway. He was off the bike and pulling the purse out of one of the saddlebags in the back. He didn’t seem to notice that I was walking over to him.

 

“You forgot your purse – I got your address off your driver’s license. I hope that was okay?” he said, handing it over to me as I made my way to him.

 

“Yes, of course, thank you,” I replied graciously. “And thanks for bringing it to me. That’s really nice of you. Want to come in for a drink or something?” I turned slightly and pointed my thumb over my shoulder at the house.

 

“I wouldn’t want to impose. Besides, I should probably get back to the shop soon.”

 

“Okay, well, I’ll only keep you a minute, then, so you can get back soon. How’s that sound?” I persisted. I was nervous, but I wasn’t freaking out. Now that he was here and we were talking, I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

 

“Yeah, sure, why not?” He held up a gloved hand, telling me to lead the way. My eyes ran down the muscles in his arm, taking in his shape and his ink. He was a beautiful man.

 

“I don’t have much to drink,” I said as we got to the door. I fished my keys out of the purse and unlocked it, letting us into my home.

 

“That’s fine. Whatever you’ve got will do,” he said.

 

I led him through the living room and around to my kitchen where he pulled out one of the chairs to sit at the table. After unceremoniously throwing my purse on the table, I opened the fridge to see what I had, knowing I only had a couple of things to drink. I hadn’t really kept any alcohol in the house since the divorce. I’d focused on keeping drinks for Micah, not so much for entertaining guests.

 

“How about some lemonade? I don’t actually have anything stronger to offer,” I said, pulling out a pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade I had made the night before. There was only enough left for a couple of glasses anyway.

 

The tough-looking biker sitting at my table chuckled. “Lemonade’s good,” he said. He smiled, and his eyes twinkled. He didn’t look threatening at all.

 

I poured us two glasses and put the empty pitcher in the sink. I walked over and set the glasses on the table, then sat in a chair across from him.

 

“Cole, right?” I made sure I remembered his name correctly.

 

He took a sip of the lemonade before answering. “That’s right. That’s good lemonade, Lilah. Really good.” He sounded amazed. Then again, being a tough tattooed biker, I had no idea when he’d last had any lemonade. It probably wasn’t hard enough for his tastes.

 

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. It’s all I really have to offer as thanks for helping me. I wish I knew what else to do.”

 

“You can let me take you out sometime,” he said.

 

And there it was again, the moment of panic. I wanted to live a life without boundaries – since the boundaries I’d lived with for so long had been so tight – but I was terrified. The dangerous-looking man in front of me thrilled me, and I could already see myself falling for him easily. He had the most gorgeous eyes and a welcoming smile. He was obviously a gentleman when he wanted to be, if not all the time, but I was certain he turned up the machismo when he needed to.

 

I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone. I didn’t want to find myself in another situation where my life would be limited either self-imposed or otherwise. I certainly wasn’t ready to introduce my boy to a man who wasn’t his father. I didn’t even know how that was supposed to work.

 

“Just one date,” I told him. “I have to be honest with you. I don’t know if I’m ready to commit to more than that.”

 

“I understand. Like you said back at the shop, you are recently divorced, and you’re just now trying to take control. All I’m asking for is one date. If you decide you want more than that afterward, that’s on you.” He winked.

 

A slow, wide smile spread across my face, and I felt myself blushing. I had just agreed to let Cole take me out. He was nothing like anyone I had ever dated before. Just by accepting his offer, things were already changing for me.

 

“Maybe we can talk a little more about tattoos, and you can show me more of yours,” I said.

 

“Maybe, but I should probably get back to the office. In the meantime, you keep thinking about what you want. I would be honored to be the artist you trust for your first tattoo,” he said.

 

I pulled my phone out and looked at the time. I had to let him go. Micah was going to be home soon. He stayed over at a friend’s house some afternoons after school, and they’d agreed to bring him home on their way back from dinner.

 

“I’d like that, too,” I said without thinking, distracted by my thoughts of my son. I didn’t want anyone coming up and seeing the motorcycle in the yard. It wasn’t that I was ashamed that I was talking to a biker or even a tattoo artist, but I didn’t want to explain why anyone had been by at all. It was my business, and I wasn’t ready for anyone to know. It was enough that Jenna had an idea of what was going on.

 

We got up from the table, and I walked him to the door. He walked in front of me, giving me a great shot of his vest with all his patches on it. He had a logo on the back that looked like a skeleton riding a motorcycle with a jagged blade behind its head. The words around it said Steel Devils.

 

“Are you in a motorcycle club?” I asked.

 

“I am. Steel Devils MC,” he replied, turning around as he stepped out of my door. “Ever been on a bike?”

 

“No way.” I shook my head.

 

He nodded. “Didn’t think so. Maybe I’ll take you riding sometime. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lilah, and I’ll see you soon. I hope you and your boy have a good night.”

 

He walked off to his motorcycle and put on his helmet. A moment later, the bike roared to life in my front yard. I jumped at the sound of the engine, but then it purred sweetly. He turned around in my yard and pulled back up my driveway.

 

I stood there after he rode off, staring at where he’d been. My chest still vibrated from the sound of the engine, and I felt a jolt of excitement run through my body like the humming of his motorcycle. My life was changing, and I was finally in control of it.

 

Then, the Smiths’ car pulled up, and Micah came running into the house. Cole had left just in time.

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