Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC #1)(7)
We were in the garden of our childhood home, Mum and Dad had their arms around each other, Mum pressing a kiss to Dads forehead. My mother and father were night and day. Mum had golden blonde hair, styled soft around her face, she has always been beautiful, even in her fifties she was stunning. She is trim, and very petite, my father looked like a mountain man compared to her. His dark scruffy hair was peppered with silver, smile lines at the corner of his face only made him more handsome, in a rugged type of way. He is tall, and even approaching sixty in good shape. A twenty year old me was tucked into my father’s side, laughing at something, my head thrown back my long brown hair flying behind me. Ian was beside my mother, his arm around her waist grinning over at me. Him, with his military buzz cut and strong jaw was an imprint of my father, the same hazel eyes, dark hair and cheeky smile. Our family had always been close, I knew how lucky I was to come from such a great home.
I moved my gaze to observe my reflection in the lovingly restored mirror. My chocolate brown hair was piled on top of my head, wisps hanging down here and there. My hand touched the spot on my cheek where a small scar hid underneath my makeup. I decided I looked like the old me, with slightly tanned skin and a heart shaped face. My eyes are what I think are my best feature, jade green and maybe a smidge too big for my face, making me look too innocent for my liking, although it did help when I was younger. I’m only 5’5 and naturally petite, which is why I’m always wearing 6-inch heels. My body is lean, but with a larger ass than I would like and smaller breasts than I want. I work freaking hard to keep my figure trim, and if I even look at a cupcake I swear my ass grows. I snapped myself out of my self-perusal when I realized I hadn’t even explored the most important part. The closet.
I clapped my hands with glee as I opened double doors into an amazing walk in wardrobe, with white carpet and an amazing purple rug running to the end of the room. A chaise lounger sat in the middle of the room, and there was even glass cases for my handbags! My bathroom was just as impressive, white tiles ran along the floor and halfway up the walls, met with soft blue paint. A Chandelier (yes chandelier) dangled atop the claw foot tub, which was in the middle of the room, a white footstool beside it. I had two huge sinks and mirrors, with cabinets underneath them more than able to house all of my beauty products. To the left of the sinks was a shower big enough to sleep in. I retrieved my phone out of my bag and dialed.
“Amy, you have outdone yourself, I’m speechless, the house is everything I could have wanted and more, you’re a genius!” I said as soon as she picked up.
“I know, I know, my taste is impeccable. I knew you’d like it.” She stated modestly.
“Like is an understatement. You seriously need to undertake a career in interior design. Or mind reading, considering this is exactly what I wanted.”
“Well I can’t exactly pursue a career in the physic realm, considering I am opening a business and the edge of nowhere with my best friend.” She told me dryly.
I laughed. “Okay, well I need to unpack, just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate this, can’t wait till you get here, love you.”
“You’re welcome girl, see you tomorrow!!” She chirped, ringing off.
I made my way back to my car on cloud nine and started the herculean task of unpacking. My Mercedes was full to the brim, even with a lot of my stuff being sent ahead. What could I say? I’m a girl, and a buyer. I have a lot of shit. I opened my trunk, inspecting the sheer volume of bags for a second before trying to gather as many as I could into my arms.
“Need some help?” A deep voice asked from behind me.
“Holy f*ck!” I dropped all of my bags, nearly jumping out of my Manolos.
I began to glare at the owner of the deep voice that scared the bejesus out of me but stopped short. In front of me was a picture of pure male perfection. Well maybe not so pure. Tall, like really tall, I only came up to his shoulders and I was in 6 inch heels. Rippling muscles threatened to rip the arms of his t-shirt, and tattoos covered every inch of those impressive arms. His face was chiseled like a Greek Gods, with a square jaw and cheekbones to die for. Midnight black hair brushed his sharp jaw, he looked like Chris Hemsworth’s identical twin, well his dangerous black haired identical twin. A familiar intensity wafted off him, an air of menace in the way he held himself. Uh oh, this one was trouble, like serious trouble, the kind I swore off a year ago.
The hunk brought his hands up like I was pointing a gun at him, a grin highlighting his too kissable mouth, very kissable in fact. How could I guy who looked like he could bench press a car while making Vin Diesel cry have lips like that? I bet he could do some things with those lips, wait…shut up ovaries!
“Whoa darlin, didn’t mean to scare you, just saw you with an arm full of bags and those are dangerous looking shoes to be carrying that amount of stuff on.” He explained gazing down at my (fabulous) shoes. His gaze traveled up my jean clad legs to my top which I now decided showed way too much of my modest chest. He finished at my eyes and we stared at each other. His gaze was hungry, and very male. I was mesmerized for a moment and felt an ache between my thighs, I snapped myself out of it. Quickly. I didn’t need a man in my life, and definitely not a man like this.
“Well thanks for your concern but I’m very capable of unpacking my car, by myself, and for your information I could run a marathon in these shoes.” I replied sharply.