Chapter 9

Alicia

I spent the day cleaning and reorganizing Mace’s room—which looked like it was going to be my room too for the time being. I realized everyone assumed that Mace and I were together, and I didn’t like to ask if they had any empty rooms. Besides that, I had to admit, sharing a bed with him was nice, for the first time in years I felt safe.

After that I helped Rosie stock the bar. I know Mace said I was a guest, but I’d spent most of my life doing chores, and sitting around just made my thoughts go back to my father and the fact I still hadn’t managed to speak to my mom.

Rosie was an excellent bartender and wonderful conversationalist who helped me take my mind off of my worries. She was bright, fun-loving, and said exactly what was on her mind. She lent me a self-help book on starting over and after lunch I hid away in our room and started reading it. Rosie said that it really helped her out at one time after she suffered a hard discard by a former fiancé. She explained that the book helped her get her head straight.

I didn’t think Rosie would lead me astray, so I made a start on reading the book right away. I guess I have gotten lost in reading because the next thing I knew, Mace was back, and it was getting dark outside. I dog-eared my page and gave Nine a little cuddle while Mace showered and got into some clean clothing.

When he came back out, he looked amazing, especially in his new leather cut. He was so handsome I almost couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Do you like what you see when you look at me?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course I do. Any woman would. You are one handsome man, I love your eyes, I never noticed how black they are until just now.”

The lopsided smile dropped right off his face. “I do not have black eyes.”

“Whoa! What’s with the cold tone?”

He stretched his neck as if irritated and responded in a constrained voice. “People have told me my whole life that I have strange eyes. My Sunday school teacher once called me a black-eyed devil in front of all the other kids. She was an older woman who didn’t like that I did things my own way. I got bullied about having devil eyes forever. Most people don’t realize that black isn’t an eye color.”

Leaning down, he pointed to his face, “See? My eyes are simply such a dark brown they look black.”

I reached up, wrapped my hand around his long braid and gently pulled him so close we were practically nose to nose. “Ah, I see that now. Your eyes aren’t strange by the way, They’re beautiful, I didn’t mean anything bad by describing them as black. Sorry your Sunday school teacher was such an asshole.”

He pulled back a bit and when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Don’t know why I’m so fucked up about the eye thing. It was a long time ago.”

“People don’t realize the harm that throwaway comments can sometimes have.”

Suddenly, he was smiling again, though there was a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re real sweet to me but I won’t forgive you until you make it up to me.”

When his gaze dropped to my lips, I knew what he wanted, and it was something that had been on my mind too… A lot. “How about a kiss? Would that make it all better?”

He glanced down at my hand which was still grasping his long braid. “You offering because you want to, or just to appease me?”

“Why can’t it be both?” I said as I looped his braid around my hand again, drawing him closer. One more loop and he was so close that he had to brace his big body on the back of the chair with one hand to keep from falling on me.

The next thing I knew, he tipped my head back and kissed me. It was slow, sensual, and when his tongue swiped across the seam of my lips, I opened my mouth for him without hesitation. Suddenly, we were knee deep in the kind of kiss that I’ve only ever dreamed about. And this man was an expert at kissing. After a few moments, he pulled back and gazed down at me. “Consider yourself forgiven, darlin’.”

When he pushed himself back and stood up again, my fingers came up to touch my lips. I know I must have looked a little awestruck, but I couldn’t help it.

Mace teased, “Shake it off, girl. We have the whole evening ahead of us. I can’t have you swooning just yet.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his brazen flirting, “ Mariposón .”

“You callin’ me a butterfly?”

I raised my eyebrow, “You speak Spanish?”

Mace shrugged, “Enough to get me into trouble, but not enough to get me out again.”

I laughed, “It means you’re an outrageous flirt.”

“I’ve been called many things in my lifetime but never a flirt.”

While he was pulling on his boots, I glanced at the pile of clothing he’d stuffed into the laundry hamper, “From the look of your clothes when you came home, you must have been crawling through mud or something, today.”

He laughed. “Not hardly. I was shoveling dirt, and it started raining.”

Excitement strummed through my gut. “Does that mean you found it?”

He stated proudly, “Nope. But I did eliminate one of a dozen possible locations, so that’s progress. You ready to grab some dinner or do you want to shoot some pool first?”

“Pool, unless you’re hungry.”

“No. Coyote’s wife packed us a lunch and I pigged out way more than I should have on empanadas.”

I grinned at him. “Remind me to thank her for that.”

His expression morphed into one I didn’t recognize. “I’m not yours. You don’t have to thank people for taking care of me.”

His words caught me by surprise. I guess by the easy way we joked around I was starting to think of him as something more. Rather than be hurt by his words I don’t know why, but my first instinct was to flirt. I walked by him running my hand across his chest as I headed for the door. “Maybe not right now but you never know. Perhaps you’ll end up snared in my trap.”

He stared at me even harder. “Your love trap? You forgot to specify what kind of trap you’re setting for me.”

Instead of agreeing with him, I said over my shoulder, “I’d be foolish to tell you what kind of trap I’m setting. You’re supposed to figure that out on your own.”

I meant it to sound mysterious and flirty, but I had to admit it just came across as weird and vaguely threatening, which wasn’t my intent at all.

Chica, just give it up. You suck at flirting .

I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole, but of course it didn’t because I’m never quite that lucky. Mace didn’t have a response for my odd and probably confusing words. He just followed closely behind me. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, he guided me over to one of three double arched entrances which led to a back room. Behind each doorway there was pool table. We approached one and Mace set the balls up for us.

Something about the Dark Slayers’ clubhouse was appealing. Maybe it was Rosie’s smiling face at the bar or the way she brought our favorite drinks over without us even asking. It could have been dim glow of the overhead lights or the scent of leather and beer that hung heavy in the air from so many brothers being packed into one place. Whatever it was, I genuinely liked it and felt comfortable and safe.

When he was finished setting the table up, Mace, ever the gentleman, gave me the first shot. I rubbed the end of my cue stick with chalk and leaned over the pool table and concentrated on making a good strong shot to break the balls up.

My fingers wrapped anxiously around the stick. I’d never played pool before, but I’d seen it done on television tournaments and in movies. I glanced up to find Mace standing on the other side of the pool table with both hands wrapped around one end of his stick and the back end on the floor. My heart skipped a beat when I realized he was watching every move I made. Since my weird flirting didn’t drive him away earlier, I decided to hone my skills a bit, seeing as the wine was starting to relax me.

I felt my lips curl into a teasing smile. “You like what you see, Mace?”

His eyes lifted to mine, and he gave me a lopsided grin. “You know that I do, sweetheart. But I’m also interested to see if you’re any good.”

Playing him at his own game I said, “Any good at pool, you mean, right? I only ask because I could be good at any number of things.”

Damn it! What was wrong with me? Here I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin, acting like a femme fatale. I didn’t know what it was that was making me feel so bold. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I would do if Mace took me up on my offer, but deep inside I think I had decided that he would be the one to teach me about love.

“Yeah, I mean pool. Of course I do,” Mace said. Something about his tone had me questioning if that was true, especially as I could detect a flush on his tanned cheeks. Sometimes, like now, the way he looked at me told me he was just as interested in me as I was him. I didn’t say anything about that. Instead I refocused on my shot.

Once I had the cue ball in sight, I realized my hands were trembling slightly. I didn’t know if it was just nerves—or maybe just the thrill of having all of Mace’s attention on me. I bit my bottom lip, aimed carefully, and with a sharp, hard poke, the cue ball slammed into the neat triangular arrangement of balls, and they all split apart, going in different directions.

Excited, I looked at Mace. “Did you see what I just did?”

Mace chuckled, “Yeah, I saw. You did good.” He stepped forward with a swagger that made me smile. He brushed past me and turned to stand behind me. I heard him lay his stick down on one of the nearby tables and he reached his arms around me, grasped my pool stick and pointed the small end towards the white cue ball.

“It’s all in the way you handle the cue. Here’s what you want to do, darlin’.”

Maneuvering his hands over mine, he showed me what he meant. “You want to hold the stick lightly, resting it on your fingers. Holding too tight when you take your shot can cause the ball to jump off the table.”

“Um, okay. I can do that,” I stammered, hardly able to concentrate on anything with his strong arms around me and his hard muscular body pressing against my back.

“Why don’t you go ahead and give it a try?”

I lined up the white ball with another and took my shot. Instead of it landing in the pocket like I planned, it bounced off right beside the pocket.

“That was pretty good for a first try. Now, you want to find you’re aiming in line with each ball that you want to sink. Lining the balls up is all geometry. Once you see how to line them up with your eyes, you’ll never be able to unsee it. When you take your shot, you want to keep your pool stick straight and follow through with your shot.”

“Alright, I’m getting the hang of it now.” I took my shot and one of the balls landed in the pocket. I tried not to preen but I had to admit that I was proud of myself.

Mace’s deep voice was warm and approving. “You did really well. Good job, Alicia.”

“Now, it’s your turn to take a shot,” I told him.

I regretted saying that the moment his arms slid from around me. I backed up to give him space and he leaned forward, taking his time to make his shot. I watched him line up the cue ball. Unhurried, he acted like he had all the time in the world to take this one shot. I found myself caught up in the moment, in how deceptively easy-going he was. I also couldn’t help but notice how fine his ass looked as he leaned over the table, and the way his jeans hugged him.

When he finally took his shot, the ball spun forward with more force than I would have imagined, knocking a green ball into the corner pocket. He straightened up, giving me an easy grin.

“Good shot, Mace.” My praise was genuine. I loved watching him play. “Have you been playing long?”

He shrugged. “I played for a long time, but poorly. Then Grit started teaching me last year and my skills have improved. You should see him and Mack go at it. Both of them are champion pool players.”

“I’ll bet that would be something to see,” I told him.

His voice lowered, “I can coach you, if you like.”

“About pool, right? That’s what we’re talking about,” I said.

He stepped closer and gazed down at me, a multitude of expressions moving across his face. There was warmth and admiration, attraction and an urgent raw need that made my clit tingle. “I could teach a sweet little thing like you a lot of interesting things, but only if you really want me.”

“You forgot to add ‘to’.” The look on his face told me that he hadn’t forgotten a thing. He was asking if I wanted him and the answer was yes, a thousand times yes.

My heart sped up, the thought of him having his arms around me again flipped all the right switches for me. “You know, at some point the student always becomes the master, right?”

His expression took on a playful edge. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it? Maybe you have something interesting you could teach me, you know, to even the score?”

I wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this, but I was definitely there for it. I turned around to face him and said, “I’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to be better at something than you are, Mace.”

He came closer and put one hand on the pool table on either side of me. “I can think of some things that you’re probably a natural at, things that you could teach a man like me if you really wanted to.”

I swallowed thickly. Having Mace’s attention fully on me was heady stuff.

“I’ll have to think on that,” I replied. “I’m sure I can think of something to capture your notice.” When I met his gaze, it felt like something meaningful passed between us. For the first time I really started to believe that there could be something real and special between us.

As we stood there and let the background noises of the bar engulf us, I realized maybe we weren’t so different after all, and the distance between us was not all that far. It made me want things with this man. Mace was something special, strong, sure of himself. Only time would tell if we could build a bridge between his world and mine. I vowed to try to find the middle ground. I wanted him to think of me as more than just the girl from a shitty background that he had to risk his life to save. And I truly wanted to see him as more than just the hot biker who came to my rescue when I needed him the most.

Emboldened by his closeness I reached down and lifted his hand up, pressing my palm against his. We were from different cultures, but our similarities outweighed any differences. We were both strongly attracted to each other, and we were patient when it came to love and I sensed that he, like me, was looking for something meaningful and real. The thought that we could be that for each other electrified my brain with excitement.

As we were standing there staring into each other’s eyes, Mace brought his hands up to cup my face and his head drifted closer. He was just about to kiss me when something large thumped into us so hard it almost knocked me over. We looked down to find Nine there, trying to wedge himself between us.

I let out a strangled laugh of surprise. And Mace muttered something under his breath that sounded and awful lot like, “Cockblocked by my own fucking pet.”

I laughed out loud, and Mace’s expression relaxed.