Page 10 of My Protective Biker

"So I left. Came here, bought the practice, built something that's entirely mine." I look at him. "No compromises at someone else's expense."

He nods slowly, processing.

"The patches on your vest," I say, needing to know. "Vigil MC. What is that?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Motorcycle club. We handle security for businesses, deal with things the police don't. Some of it's legal, some isn't. There's another club, Marrow, pushing into our territory. Things have been escalating."

No softening, no excuses. Just truth.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Can be." He watches me. "Does that bother you?"

I think about it, really think. "I don't know yet. I need time to process it."

"Fair."

We sit there and I'm aware of how close he is, how much I want to close the remaining distance. Aware of how fast this is moving and how that should scare me more than it does.

But sitting here listening to him talk about Zoe, I realize something: he's not asking me to disappear.

He's telling me exactly who he is and letting me decide. That's not what happened in Harrisburg.

I glance at my phone. It's past ten.

"I should probably go. It's getting late."

He stands when I do and suddenly he's close, close enough that I can see the gray in his hair and smell motor oil and soap.

He walks me outside to my car. The night air is still warm, cicadas loud. We stop next to my driver's side door but neither of us moves to open it.

"I've been thinking about you," he says, voice low and rough. "Since the clinic."

My heart kicks hard. "I've been thinking about you too."

He takes a step closer and there's almost no space between us now. His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair back from my face, fingers warm against my temple.

"I'm going to kiss you," he says. Not asking. "If you don't tell me not to."

I don't tell him not to.

His mouth comes down on mine and the kiss is immediate and hungry, his lips firm and sure.

One hand slides into my hair and the other finds my waist, pulling me against him hard enough that I gasp.

I grip his shoulders and kiss him back, feeling the solid warmth of his body and the barely restrained strength in how he's holding me.

The kiss deepens and his hand tightens in my hair and I make a sound I don't mean to make, something between a gasp and a moan.

He responds by pulling me closer, his tongue sliding against mine, and I can feel him hard against my hip and the knowledge makes my knees weak.

We break apart breathing hard, his forehead resting against mine, his hands still in my hair and on my waist.

"You sure about this?" I ask, because I need to know.

"Yeah." No hesitation. "You?"

"Yeah."