Chapter Eleven
Jo
Nana was snoring. I smiled to myself from my spot on the couch. General Hospital was playing on the television and she was completely zonked. Dialysis days always wore her out.
After putting away my flashcards, I tiptoed past Nana and headed for my bedroom. I pulled out my secret box from its place under my bed. It held my birth certificate, my social security card, a picture of my sister and me smiling with our parents in happier days, and all of the notes that Clint wrote me.
It was stupid and I kind of hated that I kept them all. Mostly they were notes about his schedule, what time he would be home, if we needed money for grocery shopping. Every once in a while, there would be something personal. My favorite one was:
Jo—thanks for washing my towels—C
Not at all a love note or even vaguely romantic, but it was a note of appreciation and it made me feel special.
I took out today’s note.
Family Night party at the clubhouse. If you ladies want to go, be ready at 5pm—C
It wasn’t a date. I repeated that to myself again. Nana was invited, so it clearly wasn’t a date. But I wished it were. I turned the note over in my fingers. I needed to get over this stupid crush. He and Nana were my employers, and having dinner and kissing him had been a mistake. Obsessing over his notes was a mistake. Going to a party at a motorcycle club was definitely a mistake.
I didn’t want to walk into a room and have to deal with people disliking me based on my skin color. Clint wasn’t that way, but his friends might be a different story. The three guys who helped him move in were all very nice—and white.
Clint had proved to me that he wasn’t a racist asshole, but what about the rest of his club?
Flopping back on my mattress—that he bought for me—I stared at the ceiling. I had practiced turning him down earlier. “No, thanks. I’m going to stay at home tonight.” Over and over again in front of the bathroom mirror.
I just needed to be able to tell him that tonight.
* * *
After helping Nana into her party dress, I curled her hair. She sat on the chair in front of her dressing table while I held the curling iron.
“You’re not going to wear that to the party, are you?” she asked, eyeing my scrubs.
“I’m not going to the party,” I repeated, trying to keep my voice nice and even. We’d been over this twice in the last four hours, but Nana was determined. “I’m going to stay at home and study.”
“I’m home!” Clint’s voice boomed from the front door.
“We’re in my room,” Nana called out before I could say anything.
Clint walked into Nana’s bedroom. He held his dirty boots in one hand, and the smell of motor oil wafted toward us. He had a smudge on his right cheek and I had to resist the urge to wipe it off with my thumb, then maybe run my fingers through his short brown hair.
“I’m gonna hit the shower real quick. Then I’ll be ready to go.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Are you coming with us, Jo?”
“No thanks,” I said, using my rehearsed lines. “I’m going to stay at home tonight and study.”
“You should come with us,” Nana insisted again. “Unless that boy from the other night is taking you out again.”
“Uh, no, I don’t have a date.” I sighed. I looked to Clint, hoping for reinforcements.
“Hey, don’t look at me.” He shrugged. “I want you to come.”
He wanted me to come? I felt my cheeks heat up. Was he just being nice?
“All right, I’ll go.” I couldn’t resist. I wanted to spend any amount of time I could with him. I looked down at my scrubs. “I just need to change.”
After finishing Nana’s hair, I went to my room. Jeans and a top would be just fine for a biker party. I threw on the clothes and then dabbed on a little makeup.
What would the other people be like? A little bit of anxiety worked its way into my brain. Maybe I should stay home. I picked up a tissue to wipe off my lip-gloss.
“Hey,” Clint called from behind my closed door. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
I opened the door. Clint was freshly showered, and unfortunately that gorgeous chest of his was concealed behind a long-sleeved shirt and his leather vest.
I leaned against the doorway. “I want to go, but are you sure your friends will be okay with me?” I asked, looking down at my hands. “I don’t want there to be any trouble because...” Clint frowned, so I gulped. I just needed to say it. “Because of my race. I don’t want to walk into a room of prejudiced assholes.”
“Aw shit.” Clint reached out and took my hand. “There’s some guys out there that give bikers a bad name, but I wouldn’t be a part of that. I guarantee you’ll be perfectly safe. Besides, the old ladies will be there—you might make a friend or two.”
“Old ladies?” I frowned. “We could bring some cards. I’m sure Nana would be up for a hand or two.”
“Not exactly.” Clint shook his head. “An old lady is a wife or girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I looked up and our gazes locked. Was that how he saw me? A girlfriend?
“Look, you’ll be there as a friend. I just thought you might like some of the women.” His face fell and so did the volume of his voice. “I remember the other night, okay? I get it. I won’t bother you.”
My heart twisted. His usual smile was gone. The little tiny lines on the side of his mouth were smooth and somber. I’d rejected him and he was going to move on. Which was what I wanted him to do. I wanted him to continue his life and leave me alone. Let me finish school and live out exactly what I had planned. But this was just one night. Nana would be there. It was hardly a date.
“I’ll go.” I smiled a little and he smiled back. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.
It took ten minutes for Clint and me to get Nana situated in the car, then he rode his bike to the club while I drove. I got to a big metal gate and Clint pulled up next to me, punching in a code. We parked and unloaded Nana and all went inside. Clint and another guy wearing leather lifted Nana’s wheelchair up the steps and into the building.
I’d been inside quite a few rough places growing up, but never a private biker hangout. There was a long bar, a pool table, and a few old couches. People were everywhere, including a little girl in a tutu and a red-haired boy playing a board game on the bar. But in the back was a stage and a pole for stripping. Dark now because families were here, but I could imagine this place being a lot more risqué.
“Let me introduce you to the ladies,” Clint said, leading us to a small group of women. “Bettes, Krista, I’d like to introduce you to my nana, Anne, and our friend Jo.”
We made small talk and eventually Clint left to go talk to his boss.
Gradually, our conversation progressed and I was surprised to realize that I was having a good time. Krista and Bettes were funny and interesting, talking about their jobs and the things their husbands or kids said. Nana was drinking water because of her dialysis, but I was indulging in a beer with the other women. Bettes, who was the wife of the president, told us funny stories from her catering company.
“And then, she asked me to make lasagna, but leave out the noodles and the sauce.” Bettes rolled her eyes and we all laughed.
“Spending time with you girls makes me feel young again,” Nana said from her wheelchair, when the laughter quieted. She patted my hand. “I just love that Jo has come to stay with us. I got to hear all about her date last night.”
“Oh!” Krista, the blonde, leaned in. “Tell us about it. Did he take you somewhere fun?”
“We had dinner and dessert.” I smiled, thinking of Clint laughing and talking at the kitchen table. “Then he walked me to the door. I really liked him.”
The girls, even Nana, squealed.
“Did he kiss you?” Nana asked, breathlessly. “You didn’t tell me that part.”
I didn’t tell her about the kiss because it had been her grandson and also because it wasn’t that great.
“Yeah, he kissed me,” I admitted.
“Well?” Krista prompted, leaning her elbows on the table. “Was he any good?”
“He was okay.” I played with my beer bottle and then sighed. “It just wasn’t a good kiss. I think he was nervous.”
“Not good?” Bettes asked. “Your first kiss should be magical. Don’t waste your time on a bad kisser.”
“The kiss wasn’t that bad, it just wasn’t very passionate,” I tried to explain.
“I think Krista is right,” Nana tapped her finger on the table. “Our Jo shouldn’t waste her time on someone who is a bad kisser. If he didn’t have any passion, she should move on. What do you think, Clint?”
My heart sank to me knees. How much had he heard? I turned in my chair to see Clint was standing behind me with his face pinched, looking like he’d swallowed something sour.
“I’m sorry your date was a bad kisser.” He smiled, but it was a little strained at the sides. “I came to check on you. See if you needed anything.”
“Excuse me.” I stood up from the table. “I’m going to find the ladies’ room.”
Krista had given us a basic tour earlier. I fled up the stairs toward the tiny ladies’ room. I could hear his steps on the stairs, hot on my trail.
“Jo, wait!” he called after me. “I wanna talk to you.”
I slowed my jog to a walk and realized how ridiculous I was being. He wanted to talk to me and I was running away. I lived in the bedroom next to his—there was no hiding. I stopped and turned, waiting for him to have his say.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you.” He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t a real date. You only agreed to have dinner with me because another guy stood you up. I’d kiss you again, but I don’t think that’s what you want.”
I couldn’t help it, I stepped toward him and looped my arms around his neck. This was so wrong and it was everything I’d been wanting. The entire length of my body was pressed up against the entire length of his. Then he spun, almost like a dance move, and had my back against the cold wall. There was nowhere to go—not that I wanted to. Arousal hit hard between my legs as his hand smoothed over my hip. He bent down so I could feel his breath against my neck.
“When we were standing in front of your door, I didn’t know what to do,” he said against my skin.
My heart was racing. He kissed down the column of my throat and I began to rub his chest. I wanted to feel those pecs I’d been dreaming about for weeks, and I might never get the chance to again.
His hand slid down my thigh, then he hooked his fingers beneath my knee and pulled. He held my leg up near his hip while I balanced on one foot. I could feel him against me. His erection burned into my abdomen. Finally, his gaze dropped and he kissed my lips.
It wasn’t the warm pressure from last night. This was the kiss I had wanted. There was no soft preamble. His tongue penetrated my mouth right off, and all I could do was hang on and try to keep my balance. I moaned, just trying to keep up with each thrust into my mouth.
He hitched my leg up a little and I stood on tiptoe, relying on him so as not to fall. He moved his hand from my thigh, the seam of my jeans, where I was wet.
Tearing his lips from mine, he panted into my ear. “I can feel how hot you are. You’re going to slide all night long. Every step, every move, I want you to think of me and how good of a kisser I am.” He nibbled on my earlobe, and I shuddered. “I also want you to think about how much you want me and how much I want you. We’d be good together, Jo.”
“Oh!” My knees were weak.
He tugged on my hand until he could slide his arm around my waist again. I started to relax against him. He was so big and alive, and I wanted to feel his body against mine.
“I don’t know what to do here, Jo,” he admitted, giving me a squeeze. “I just know that there’s something between us, but the other night in the garage I promised not to put you in a shitty spot with your job.”
“Oh god. You’re my boss.” Reality of my situation set in, and I pushed against his chest and stepped back. “I keep forgetting.”
“Please, Jo.” He frowned. “It could be good between us.”
“It would be good between us,” I agreed. At least the sex would be great, I felt sure of that. The kiss we had just shared had been amazing. When Clint put his hands on me, my body lit on fire.
I stepped back and crossed my arms over my chest. “But eventually things would go bad. Then you’d be stuck living with your ex. I’d need to find a new job and we’d both be miserable. So, thanks for the offer, but I’m going to pass. A couple nights of sex isn’t worth jeopardizing everything I’ve built in my life.”
Relationships never lasted. Someone always left. I was after the more durable things in life. A degree, self-reliance, stability, all the things my mother never had when I was a child. Kissing my boss wasn’t going to help me get there.
“It wouldn’t be just a couple nights of sex.” The intensity of his gaze burned my cheeks. “I’m talking about starting a relationship, and I just need you to trust me that it won’t go bad. Even if we break up, Jo, I want you to know that you’ll always have your job and I promise I won’t make it weird between us.”
“I can’t consider it. I don’t have that luxury.” I leaned my forehead against his chest. “What happens when you try something and you fail? You’ve got this club, your family, your friends. You’ve got a whole lot of people waiting to help you. You don’t know what it’s like to live without a safety net. Do you know how to make a bed in the backseat of your car? Do you know how to hide your cash so it doesn’t get stolen at the shelter?”
“Jesus, Jo.” He wrapped his arms around me and I collapsed against him again. It felt good to have someone holding me up. But then he shifted and stepped away. After pulling something out of his pocket, he pressed it into my hand. “Here.”
“What is this?” He’d given me a little coin, but it was bronze with a raised circle in the middle.
“It’s a gift—my medallion. One year without gambling,” he whispered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I may not have ever slept in my car, and you’re right, I’ve always had a safety net. But I know what it means to have to depend only on yourself to live. I promise that I’ll never put you in a position where you have to choose between your job and our relationship.”
“I can’t accept this.” I flipped it over in my fingers. It was a tangible object of his self-control. Sort of like how my schooling was a symbol of how far I had come. I handed it back to him, but he didn’t take it.
“Please, Jo, keep it, at least for a while. Take some time and figure out if you can trust me. If you decide you don’t want the same thing, I’ll be okay and you’ll still have your job.” He gave me a grim smile.
“Are you sure you don’t need it, Clint?” I asked, searching his eyes. “What if you want to gamble?”
“There’s only one bet I’m willing to make, and it’s that you and I would be right for each other.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I promise I won’t ever kiss you again. Goodbye, Jo.”