7. Davis

Ipull the van onto the side street and maneuver her into the only parking space left. A car horn blares, and a man in a red sports car behind me shouts something rude because I have the audacity to keep him waiting for thirty seconds while I squeeze into this ridiculously tight parking space.

“You want me to go have words?” Arlo asks from the passenger seat.

I eye the angry man in the convertible through my rearview mirror.

“Nah. We’re here to get Mel’s things and get out. If we get distracted by every impatient dickhead in the city, we’ll be here all day.”

Arlo grins. “You’re right.”

He opens the passenger door and steps out, making sure the angry man gets a full look at the patch on his jacket. With his full beard and broad shoulders, Arlo looks formidable, and I’m not surprised the impatient guy suddenly remembers his manners.

With the van parked, I eye the apartment building, which is the address Mel gave me.

The building is clean light brickwork with white window frames. There’s a bustling cafe on the corner and I can imagine Mel striding down the street in her heels, at home in a place like this.

We enter the building, and the concierge eyes us suspiciously. I guess two big hairy bikers wearing MC patches isn’t a usual sight in this part of town.

“We’re here to pick up Mel Malone’s belongings from apartment 709.”

His nose sticks in the air as he regards us. Mel told me she phoned ahead, so his disdain is only a formality. Arlo clicks his knuckles, but I give him a look. I don’t want to cause trouble that might make Mel’s life any harder.

“I take it you have a key?” His voice is as clipped as his attitude, and I’m reminded of why I hate the city.

I pull out the key, and we ride the elevator up to the seventh floor.

Jeff doesn’t know we’re coming, and I hope like hell he’s not at home. The last thing I want is to run into Mel’s ex and do something stupid like punch him in the face.

From what Mel’s told me about him, the guy’s a jerk. Trying to get the promotion for himself by spreading lies about her is one major asshole move.

I push the door open, and luckily it’s all quiet inside.

Arlo gives a low whistle as we enter the apartment, his gaze transfixed on the view. The windows are floor to ceiling with a sliding door that opens to a balcony that looks out over the city with views of the river and park.

My feet sink into the plush carpet and I trail my fingers over the soft, expensive looking furnishings.

“Nice place,” Arlo mummers.

It’s a very nice place, and that makes my heart sink. The last few days with Mel have been amazing, getting to know her and trying unsuccessfully to keep my eyes off her. We’ve been talking and laughing, and I catch her looking at me sometimes too.

My stupid heart thought a guy like me might have a chance. But when I take in my surroundings, the type of life she’s used to, I’m reminded how beneath her I am.

There’s no way I can provide anything like this for her.

I’ve got a cabin in the woods and a slobbery dog, and until a minute ago I thought my cabin was nice. But this is something else.

“Come on,” I grumble. “Let’s get her stuff and get out of here.”

I wheel one of the suitcases we brought with us into the bedroom. The bed is so big you could sleep a family of five in it. If Mel was my woman, I’d have a small bed so we’d spend the entire night cuddled together. With a bed this size, you could go a whole night without even touching each other.

Mel told me where we’d find her clothes, and I open the dresser by the window and start transferring clothes into the suitcase.

When I come to her undergarments, my hand trembles. I pick up a pair of black lace panties and immediately have a vision of her in them, lying back on my bed, her thighs parted.

“Stop daydreaming,” Arlo says from the door, and I quickly stuff her underwear into the suitcase.

He’s got a smirk on his face, which tells me he knows exactly how I feel about Mel.

“She still sleeping in the spare room?”

Arlo opens the wardrobe and begins transferring shoes into one of the suitcases. I take a blouse down from a hanger and carefully fold it.

“Of course she is. I’m not an animal.”

He chuckles. “No, but you’re a man.”

I drop the blouse into the suitcase and reach for another, wondering if it’s that obvious to everyone how I feel about Mel.

“She’s vulnerable. She doesn’t need me hitting on her.”

“Or maybe that’s exactly what she needs.” Arlo grins wickedly. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Davis. When a woman looks at you like that, she wants you to hit on her.”

He chucks a pair of shiny red heels into the suitcase, and an image of Mel wearing them and nothing else flutters into my mind.

“I’m not good with women,” I mumble. I hate the admission, but it’s true. I don’t have the easy charm that Arlo has. That’s why his road name is Prince. Because he’s Prince fucking Charming.

“You don’t need to be good with women. You just need to be good with your dick.”

I frown at his crassness. “Don’t speak about Mel like that.”

He raises his eyebrows at me and grins. “It’s not just lust is it? You like her.”

I fold another blouse, wondering how many of these damn things one woman needs.

“It doesn’t matter what I like. I can’t give her this…” I indicate the apartment “…can I?”

Arlo chucks in a pair of knee length black boots, and damn, this woman’s footwear is giving me a boner.

“It may have escaped your notice, but it was this…” he waves his hand around wielding a sexy black stiletto, “…that she ran away from. So maybe an expensive apartment on the river is not what she really wants.”

I don’t know what she wants, but I doubt it’s a young bartender who barely has two bucks to rub together.

We’re zipping up the last suitcase when the door to the apartment opens.

“What the fuck?” A thin man in a grey suit wearing an angry scowl bursts into the apartment.

“We’re friends of Mel’s,” Arlo says cheerfully. “She asked us to collect her things for her.”

“Like fuck you are. That little bitch doesn’t own anything here.”

Anger flares inside me, and I stride across the room and grab him by the throat. His eyes bulge as I walk him backwards and pin him against the wall.

“You call her that one more time, and I’ll throw you off the balcony and into the street.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Arlo arches his eyebrows at me. I’m not a violent man and he knows it, but this asshole doesn’t. If the people of this city are going jump to conclusions when they see two men wearing biker’s patches, then I’ll play to the stereotype.

“You’re from that fucking MC her sister’s caught up with, aren’t you?”

“Got it in one, dickhead.”

“Now,” Arlo says cheerfully, “the last thing on her list is some items from your DVD collection. I’m not a fan of DVDs myself, prefer streaming. But if that’s what the lady asked for, that’s what we’ll get her. If you can just show us where they are…”

Jeff is going red in the face, and when I unlatch my hand from his throat, he rubs at his neck.

“I’ll get my lawyer onto you…” Jeff splutters.

Arlo spins slowly in the living area, scanning the cabinets. “I guess I’ll find them myself.”

He opens a cabinet and gives an exclamation when he sees the DVD collection.

“Get out of my apartment,” Jeff growls.

“We’ll just take them all then.” Arlo grabs the stack of DVDs and chucks them into a bag.

“If I find anything of mine stolen or broken, you’ll hear from my lawyer.”

Arlo wheels out the first two cases, and I pick up the handles for the other two.

“You won’t,” I assure him.

“I’ll speak to my lawyer anyway. We’ll look into your club. Whatever dodgy stuff you’ve got going on, we’ll find it.”

“Don’t you hate a stereotype?” I mutter to Arlo.

Our club’s legit. We run honest businesses, but I’d be wasting my time explaining that to this asshole. There’s only one thing I need him to know before we leave.

I stop before the door, and Jeff runs up against me. Before he can step back, I spin around to face him, grab his collar, and channel my best Sons of Anarchy tough biker dude persona.

“You come near Mel again, and I’ll personally hunt you down and make your life not worth living. She’s interviewing for the promotion, and if I find out you’ve told any other lies about her, I’ll come back with my biker buddies to pay you a little visit. You understand?”

His eyes bug out of his head, and I take satisfaction in watching him squirm.

I leave the apartment with Arlo and the suitcases full of Mel’s things. But the satisfaction doesn’t last long.

I may have the brawn to protect a woman, but I’ll never have an apartment like this. No matter how much I want to, I’ll never be able to give Mel the life she’s accustomed to.

For a blissful few days, I thought we might have had something. But I realize it’s better to leave her be. Whatever attraction I thought we had, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never be able to give her what she wants.