Hold Me Close (Devil's Chariots Motorcycle Club Book 1) (4 page)

“Right,” she agreed without ever facing him. “I'm sure you've done all you can do here,” she continued.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He didn't understand women at all. Why the fuck couldn't they just say what they meant?

“Unless you need me?” He placed it on the table.

He would stay for her. But lately he felt like maybe he was only making things worse. She had a very minimal opinion of him, and that made it harder to be around and feel so strongly for her. Besides, those feelings were wrong.

She didn't need that. His affection. His desire. That's why he was trying so hard to fight it. Now he was just leaving. Give her space and peace. But on the off chance she wanted him too—he was giving her an opportunity.

“No,” she lied. She did need him. “The hard part is over.” And she stood up and walked towards the kitchen. “We should both go back to our normal lives.”

That told him all he needed to know. She didn't care. Not like he did.

***

The tears wouldn't stop. She found herself making something, but she wasn't sure what. Grabbing ingredients and focusing on them helped her a bit. She couldn't let him see her cry. No way could she tell him that she felt something. He was obviously uncomfortable. Enough so that he'd bailed on her and was leaving.

She had to get it together. They were friends. Or some variation of it. Mutual mourners. That was it. They had things in common. But he was restless. Probably tired of the bars and women around here. He was ready to hit the road.

Truth be known, he'd been good for her. Good
to
her. She couldn't resent him for following his own desires. This wasn't his thing. Sitting on the couch watching movies. Talking. He needed the road. The freedom. The danger.

The things that had already taken one person from her. She didn't want to think of another. So she busied herself with making what was turning out to be a dip.

There was no way that he was ever going give up his life for her. This was who he was. It was unfair to even consider expecting that. After all, how would she feel if he asked her to give something up? She wouldn't like it at all.

Dan had managed, though. He'd had both. But Dan had been married to her, not the club. Johnny was married to the guys. That was his entire identity.

“What the fuck is normal anymore?” he asked from the other room.

She didn't have an answer. Nothing was right. Her husband was gone. He wasn't coming home. She was mourning his loss. At the same time she was crying about his best friend and the fact he was leaving.

“Good question.” She faked a laugh.

Sometimes it seemed that everything she did was fake. Except for this. Being with him. It was the only thing that was real anymore. She didn't have to fake it. And she loved it. But did she love
him?
The twinge of guilt wouldn't even let her think about it.

He moved. Shuffled. She was certain he was leaving and that'd be the end. It couldn't be. Not just yet. She hurried and put the dip and chips on a plate and headed back out to the living room.

The fear that gripped her at his departure bothered her. She didn't want to be this dependent on anyone. She needed to learn to rely on herself, because when she didn't, they left and she hurt.

That was what no one really understood. She had lost so many people in her life. Trusting in Dan to be there was hard. It took a long time. And she had. Then he went and got himself killed.

Until that moment she'd felt hurt over his death. But at that very moment, she was angry. She'd begged him to give it up. And he wouldn't. And now he was gone. Fuck him. He'd left her. Just like he promised he never would.

Yet here she was trying to hold on to another who would do the same damned thing. What was wrong with her?

Thankfully, Johnny was just making another drink. She needed tonight. One more night. Before he left.

***

He saw the puffiness around her eyes. She'd left to cry. In the meantime she'd made a fabulous dip. What the hell possessed her to say she couldn't cook? He liked her cooking. Although dip wasn't technically cooking.

She was always telling him how Dan teased her about her cooking. Sometimes it made him angry at his friend. Why would he hurt her like that? She was an amazing cook. Hell, she was just amazing in general.

The look on her face was like a stab to her gut. She was hurting. Something he'd said or done had caused it. The only guess he had was that it was because he was leaving. Everything in him wanted to change his mind. To be there for her.

He didn't want to hurt her. She'd been through so much. But he couldn't stay like this. His emotions were out of control. There had even been fantasies of corporate jobs and stable homes. He wanted what he'd never get.

Johnny wasn't built to be a family man. Maybe if life had been different. The truth was it was the guys that kept him somewhat stable. They were his family. He didn't know anything else.

But every now and then he would look at Beth and think that maybe it could work. Maybe he could be the man she needed. But in the end, would he give up everything for it?

She smiled as she dipped a chip. What had happened to him? He had gone from free and independent man to one that would jump over fire to help her. Especially when she looked so helpless and frail. Like now.

“I can stay,” he offered.

It was hard not to notice the look on her face change. But it changed right back. And she wouldn't look at him.

“No need,” she answered coldly and flatly.

“Okay.” And with that he went back to the movie they were watching.

Johnny wanted to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to kiss her. To hold her. To take away all of her sadness. But he couldn't. So he sat there, wishing the movie would last forever, and took in the sight of her one last time.

He had hoped beyond all hope that she'd ask him to stay. That she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be there. He felt more than he could explain. Including the guilt he felt. She was trying to heal. She was trying to be okay. And he was thinking of a life with her. One that he'd never set out to even think about.

“Actually, yes,” she said, and turned to him. “Please stay.”

There were no other words. Johnny nodded and she smiled. They understood. It wasn't something to discuss. Besides, what the hell would he say? To her. Or to the brothers. Mostly, though, to himself.

CHAPTER SIX

Electric shock. That's what it felt like. His arm was brushing hers and she could barely stand it. They'd watched this movie before. A dozen times. Hell, probably more than that. Yet they were watching it again. And all she could do was notice the slight touch of skin on skin.

Bethany had asked him to stay and he had done so. It'd been a few weeks since that night and she was still clinging to him like a lifeline. They were close. Even closer than they should be.

Sometimes it felt a little weird. Being so dependent on the man who'd been so close to her husband. That particular night, she felt bad. She felt her body responding to his touch and she thought that made her a bad person. It hadn't been long enough to be past the mourning stage.

But she so desperately needed to be loved. And let's face it—Johnny was an easy man to love. Something about him made it seem natural. Wouldn't Dan want her to be happy?

“I feel like pizza,” she announced, trying to distract herself from the feel of his skin.

Johnny reached over and ran a hand along her arm. “Nah,” he smiled. “You feel human.”

His laughter filled the room. She wanted to laugh with him, but she couldn't. And it wasn't because the joke wasn't nearly as funny as he seemed to think. It was because she had no air in her lungs.

The simple feel of his fingertips against her arm had sent her body into overdrive. Had it really been so long that a simple brush of a hand could have an effect like this? She felt an ache inside and tried unsuccessfully to ignore it. Her entire body froze and she sat quietly trying to resolve how to move again without leaning over and kissing the man that didn't want to be kissed.

***

Johnny saw it. She could try and hide it all she wanted, he'd seen it. He didn't survive in the world this damn long without being able to read body language. Shit, how the hell else would he know which chicks to hit on at the bar? Being him meant being able to have who he wanted, when he wanted. Until now. But maybe that wasn't the case either. Because he'd seen it when he touched her. She wanted him.

Granted, he'd not done a damn thing about it. Just continued laughing like a moron at a comment that wasn't even funny. Truth was, he wasn't trying to be funny. He just liked to use any excuse he could find to touch her.

What the fuck was wrong in his world? Johnny Malloy didn't play coy. He didn't do the shy and embarrassed teenage boy shit. Fuck all that. He picked who he wanted and he took her home. End of story.

Yet he sat on the couch reading the signs of a woman he didn't need to be with and wanted desperately. He was making jokes to touch her. He was acting like a schoolboy that'd never been laid.

Fuck, it was beginning to feel like it. That night she'd asked him to stay was the last time he'd gotten any. No woman could satisfy him. Hell, no woman could fucking turn him on. Except this one. Like she was right now. Looking so fucking sexy biting her lip. Looking terrified by what she was feeling.

He wanted to kiss her. To suck that lip. To taste her. To see how she reacted to that. But he couldn't. So he played his schoolboy games and wondered if he'd ever enjoy sex again.

Johnny hoped this was why he was here. That she'd asked him to stay because she needed him. He didn't ask. The potential answer scared him.

“What kind of pizza?” he asked, finally ending the silence.

Her eyes lit up and she let go of the bottom lip. “Everything. I want it all.” She smiled.

“Don't we all, sweetheart.” Johnny grabbed the phone and began to dial. “Don't we all.”

***

“We always eat pizza,” she commented as she took another bite. “Why is that?”

She watched Johnny contemplate his answer and tried to ignore the erratic beat of her heart. The way his eyes rolled to the side and his eyebrows arched upwards made her smile. She loved that goofy look that he got. The one that would make anyone find it hard to believe he was in a motorcycle gang.

But it was the firm line of his jaw, the way his hair fell into his eyes slightly, the look of his body under a t-shirt and even the gentleness of his rough hands that really got to her. As his hands rubbed together she imagined what they would feel like against her skin and she realized that she had stopped breathing.

“We're boring,” he answered and shrugged before taking another bite.

“We shouldn't be.” She looked over at him with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Do you have an idea?” he grinned towards her.

Bethany sat for a moment in silence. She wanted to scream the ideas she had, but wasn't sure how he'd take them. Then she felt guilty for having them. It was a big mess of confusion.

“Let's go to the beach,” she exclaimed, and he laughed.

“It's almost ten, Beth.” Johnny had taken to shortening her name.

“That's what makes it not boring.” She grinned and stood up. “Let's go.” Snd with that she grabbed her car keys.

Suddenly his hand covered hers as he stood behind her. She could feel his breath against her neck. She felt every part of her body tense up.