Rome's Chance (Reapers MC #6.6)(27)

“Of course I know that,” I told her. “I think the more important question is whether you’re okay with it. You’re the one stuck in the trenches, and I’m headed to the reunion tonight. Maybe we should spend the afternoon together. I can’t pay you two hundred bucks, though.”

“No, you want to go with him,” she said, fingers tightening on the stack of twenties. “It’s okay so long as you still have dinner with me and Kayden.”

“Special macaroni and cheese?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“No,” I said, smiling at her. “It’s a date.”

“Then get your ass out of here and don’t be stupid.”

Leaning forward, I rubbed my nose against hers and stepped out of the apartment.

“Rome—”

He pounced, catching my arm as he shut the door behind me. Then he wrapped one hand around the back of my head and pulled me in for a deep, hungry kiss. My mind went gloriously blank. He backed me into the wall, pinning me as his tongue invaded my mouth. Desire exploded between my legs and I suddenly remembered just how amazing last night had been before things fell to shit.

The man had a talent.

Wanting more, I wrapped my arms around him, my fingers digging deep into the hard muscles of his back, kneading him like a cat. He flinched, pausing for just a second. Something was wrong. Rome’s mouth covered mine again, but I pushed against him, stopping him.

“What happened to your back?” I asked, concerned. Rome focused on my lips, clearly distracted.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not,” I insisted. He shrugged.

“You weren’t the only one who got beat up last night,” he admitted. “I think someone slammed a chair across my back. Right at the beginning of the fight. No serious injuries, but it’s looking nasty this morning.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, so I slid under his arm and around his back, then started tugging on his shirt. I pushed it and his vest up out of the way to find a large bruise shaped like a three-sided rectangle. Raising my hand, I traced the skin gently, wondering how much it must’ve hurt.

It looked awful. I drew my fingers back and forth, wishing I could take away the pain. After a few seconds his muscles tightened and something rumbled deep in his throat.

“Usually I like a girl to buy me a drink before she rips off my clothes in public,” he said lightly, but there was a hint of strain in his voice. I dropped his shirt abruptly, stepping back.

“I’m sorry,” I said, embarrassed.

Rome pulled me back to him, catching and holding my gaze. “Randi, I like you touching me. In fact, I’d really like you to touch me some more.”

“What happened to talking?” I asked, biting back a laugh.

Rome raised a brow. “I’m excellent at multi-tasking. Let’s go for a ride. There’s somewhere I’d like to show you.”

“Would this somewhere be public or private?” I asked, slowly running my hand down the front of his shirt. He caught it right above his belt, and I laughed.

“Does it matter?” he asked, eyes dancing. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

“About that…” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up. “For the record, I don’t normally do stuff like that.”

I waited for him to say he didn’t, either. Instead he just laughed. I smacked him, and he laughed harder.

“Enough. We should get going—I can’t be gone for more than a couple hours. We have an early dinner planned, and I still have to get ready for the reunion.”

“No worries,” he said. “I’m covering a shift tonight anyway. Ambulance crew. I’ll get you home in plenty of time.”





Chapter Eight



For the third time in twenty-four hours, I found myself riding through the hills with Rome. We’d gone south this time. He still wouldn’t say where we were headed, just that it was a surprise.

That worked for me.

The wind cleared my head, and I kept thinking how dark and depressing Mom’s apartment felt. Kayden and Lexi deserved light and clean air. There had to be a better place, although with mom’s housing subsidy, her options were limited. Maybe Tinker had something available in the apartment building she’d inherited from her dad. The place was small and relatively old, which meant most of the units had windows on three sides.

That’d be almost like living in a real house.

I’d talk to her about before I left town, I decided.

It wasn’t long before Rome pulled off the main highway. We turned onto a side road that wound its way up through foothills peppered with evergreens, many of them showing fire damage. Then we took a left onto a gravel road, passing a large ranch-style house before pulling off in front of an old wooden barn.

It was like something out of a movie.

The roof was steep and slanting, with a high peak in the front that poked out almost like a horn over the hayloft. The wood was dark brown and weathered. A line of green marked a little stream not far away, shaded by a massive willow.

He turned off the motorcycle and quiet descended.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, hopping off and handing him my helmet.

“It’s the original family homestead,” he said. “We passed my folks’ place on the way in. The old farmhouse was a mess—built without a foundation. The historical society hauled it away before I was born. We still use the barn, though. It’s in good shape. Come and see.”