Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(60)

But there seemed something wrong about this.

Like a life incomplete.

He came back, threw his arm around my shoulders and led me into the kitchen, asking, “You hungry or you wanna kick back with a drink first?”

“I could wait to eat.”

“Perfect,” he muttered.

He let me go to open the fridge. “Got soda. Got waters. Got a couple of bottles of wine for you. Got beer.”

“What kind of wine?”

He pulled out a bottle and studied it. “Sauvignon blanc.” He reached in to shift the other one around so he could read the label. “Viognier.” His gaze came to me. “The dude at the store said they were good.”

“I’ll try the viognier.”

“Gotcha,” he replied.

I leaned a hip against the counter, Nanook leaned against me, and together we watched Core open the bottle then pour it into a surprisingly stylish wineglass.

He handed it to me, and I quipped, “You have good taste in glassware.”

His lips curled. “I bought them today after I bought you wine and realized I couldn’t serve it in a Solo cup.”

I frowned. “Please tell me you don’t use Solo cups, meaning your good time will last two hundred years on this earth.”

“Baby, I drink beer from a bottle, so the earth is safe with me.”

I laughed, sipped the wine, it was delicious, and the three of us went out to his back patio.

Okay, this space said he lived there and wasn’t renting a poorly decorated Airbnb.

Although I’d add some toss pillows, decorative lanterns and other accoutrement, he had a great rug that brought the space together.

There was a handsome couch out there, he took us to it, and then we were down, Core in a corner, me tucked to his side, Nanook seated by his dad’s knee.

“Have a good day?” he asked.

It was only then I realized his day included buying me wine then going to get a pretty glass for me to drink it from.

“I worked all day,” I answered, sounding subdued, because his gesture meant a lot.

“That sucks.”

“No, I like working.”

“Then it doesn’t suck.”

I laughed softly and sipped wine.

“This space is fantastic,” I told him.

“Did it myself,” he replied.

“Color me impressed.” I put feeling into that, because I was.

He said nothing, but his arm around my shoulders gave me a squeeze.

“How long have you been here?”

“In this house?”

“Yes.”

“Couple of years.”

That was enough time to own a blender.

“Hmm…” I hummed.

“Hmm what?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I muttered and took another sip.

“Got something on your mind, say it,” he urged.

I stopped staring at the wide-seated, comfortable chairs across from us and twisted my neck to look up at him.

“No shade, your house is awesome, though it looks like you just moved in.”

He smiled at me, gave me another squeeze, then said, “I can lay the shit out of flagstone, but got no clue when it comes to lamps and pictures and all the rest.”

This information led me to another belated realization.

He not only was single, but if he’d lived there a couple of years and it looked like it did, he had been for some time.

Which, with all things Core, seemed impossible.

“Now what’s in your head?” he queried.

“You cleaned up my tissues.”

A shock of surprised laughter and, “What?”

“When I had my crying jag. You cleaned up my tissues. You put away the chip bags. You took me out for a Baconator. And just now, you grabbed my tote and took it to the bedroom for me.”

“Is it my turn to remind you of shit that happened the last couple of days?” he joked. “Warning, my list is probably gonna be indecent.”

I had to laugh, because that was funny.

Then I said, “No, I just…” I shrugged and looked away, bringing the wine to my lips. “You’re a rare breed.”

I took a sip.

“Babe.”

I turned back to him.

“Her name was Kiki. We lived together for three years. I loved her. We ended. So it’s her you got to thank for training me.”

Not your sadly deceased mother?

I didn’t ask that. I’d put my foot in it with a mention of his mom once. I was going to let him take us there if it came up again.

And anyway, the mention of a woman with the kickass name of Kiki and “I loved her” was enough to focus on, thank you.

I lifted my wineglass and said cautiously, “Here’s to Kiki.”

He read the caution. “It was a while ago, Hellen. And it ended in a way it was a definite end.”

“But you loved her?” I asked quietly.

“She was great.”

Oh boy.

He dipped his face closer to me. “It’s over. I’ve run into her once or twice since we were done. She’s got someone new,”—his eyes twinkled—“I’ve had some fun. Now, in case you missed it, I’m about seeing where things are gonna go with you.”