Fire Inside: A Chaos Novel (18 page)

“I’m getting to you?”

“Step back.”

His eyes held mine a moment before he muttered, “I’m getting to you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Babe,” he called.

I rolled my eyes back.

“Wanna know part of who you are that interests me?”

“Are you going to say something nice?”

“Yes.”

“Then no.”

I watched his eyes smile.

Then he started to speak and, per usual, he did it against my wishes.

“Part of who you are that interests me is that you don’t care what they think. I walk into your cush offices, you say ‘hey, honey’ and don’t even fuckin’ blink. Wearin’ motorcycle boots or a suit, it’s all the same to you. And a woman like you, so knockout gorgeous, most movie stars would give their left nut just for you to walk up a red carpet on their arm, a banker’s daughter who sleeps in unbelievably soft sheets and drives a sweet ride ninety-nine percent of the population can’t afford acts like that. Now
that
interests me.”

Okay, I was back to him getting to me.

“I’ve decided to be un-biker-friendly,” I announced, and watched his eyes smile again.

“Too late.”

“Figures,” I mumbled.

“Right. I’m here, kiss me, we’ll finish our sandwiches and then I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Hop, I’ve got pastrami breath.”

“So?”

“It might be gross.”

Another smile. “It won’t be gross.”

“It’ll be gross.”

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“Kiss me.”

“No!”

Hop slanted his head and kissed me.

I kissed him back.

He let me go, we finished our sandwiches and he kissed me again before he let me get back to work.

I got looks all afternoon and I didn’t care because I wouldn’t normally care, but also because all I could think about was Hop getting to me.

And that I sort of wanted him to bring me lunch the next day.

And that I not so sort of wished he’d be in my bed that night.

Alas, Thursday, I got nothing but a phone call. I was busy with work. Hop was busy with Chaos business and his kids.

But Friday morning, about two and a half seconds after I got the call, I turned to my cell, snatched it up, and called Hop.

“Lady,” he answered.

“We got the account!”
I shrieked.

I could actually tell the smile in his voice was huge when he replied, “Good news, baby.”

“
Great
news.
Fabulous
news. Christmas bonuses for the staff news,” I corrected.

Hop was silent.

When this silence spread, I called, “Hop? Did I lose you?”

“You absolutely did not lose me.”

No smile in his voice but the rough tone of it that communicated colossal things made my body go completely still.

“You work your tail off for that account, your first thought is Christmas bonuses for your staff,” he stated.

I said nothing, just concentrated on breathing and ignoring the warmth shrouding my heart.

“No hard, Lanie. All soft,” he whispered like that meant everything to him.

Everything.

I again said nothing.

“And fuck, but I like it,” he finished.

It meant everything.

“Hop,” I whispered.

“Wish we could celebrate. We’ll do it next week. Yeah?”

I closed my eyes.

Then I opened them and said, “Yeah.”

I did this because I wanted to celebrate, I wanted to know how Hop celebrated, and because he was getting to me.

“Lettin’ you go,” he replied.

I didn’t want him to let me go. I wanted his voice in my ear. I wanted that warmth he gave me to stay close around my heart.

I didn’t say this.

I said, “Okay, Hop.”

“Later, lady.”

“Bye, honey.”

We disconnected and, without a big new client to concentrate on, I was unable to keep him off my mind.

Also unwilling.

And my thoughts didn’t go to planning how to end things.

They went to how Hopper Kincaid would celebrate his old lady getting a big new client.

Now, I standing in my bedroom, staring at my bag and facing a weekend with my parents and trying to train my thoughts on Vail, God’s country, which was gorgeous.

Suddenly I sensed movement that shouldn’t be there since I was alone in my house and I jumped, whipping my head around to see Hop walking into my room.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as he moved to me.

He made it to me, his hand lifting, fingers curling around the side of my neck, thumb extended which he used at my jaw to push my head back as his dipped down and his lips and ’tache brushed my lips.

When he lifted his head, he answered, “Wanted to see you, check you’re okay, and someone has to haul your suitcase down the stairs.”

That warmth hit my heart again.

He wanted to see me, check I was okay and, he didn’t live in Siberia and take a flight to do the deed, but he
did
go out of his way just to carry my suitcase down the stairs.

“I can carry a suitcase, Hop,” I told him.

“Babe, you were at Hotel Monaco for two nights and your bag weighed half a ton.”

I felt my lips quirk as I said, “It didn’t weigh half a ton.”

He grinned at me. “Close.”

I grinned back.

His hand at my neck gave me a squeeze as his eyes got serious. “You good?”

“God’s country,” I replied and his grin came back.

“Yeah,” he muttered, looked at the bed then at me. “This good?”

I nodded.

He pulled me slightly to him and then pushed me gently back, swaying me with his hand at my neck before he let me go and bent to the bed. Flipping the case closed, he zipped it and hauled it off the bed.

I took one last look around, checking for lights left on or anything that I might have forgotten, and followed him downstairs.

He dropped the bag by my front door and turned to me. “Half a ton.”

I smiled up at him. “Hardly.”

His hand snaked out, grabbed me around the neck and pulled me to him. My head tipped back. His came down. My arms wrapped around his shoulders. His free arm wrapped tight around my waist. His lips hit mine. Mine opened.

And we kissed, wet and deep, for a long time.

Hop broke it, moving away an inch. “Leavin’ now, gettin’ the kids, headin’ up. Text you in the morning where we’re gonna be for breakfast so you can get your folks there.”

I nodded. “Drive safe.”

“Got kids, always do.”

I smiled again and his eyes dropped to my mouth before coming back to mine.

“Still gettin’ to you?” His question was whisper soft.

No.

The honest answer to that was, he’d already gotten to me.

I dipped my chin and pressed my face to his throat.

His hand at the back of my neck slid up into my hair as I felt his lips against the top of my head.

“Like that answer, lady.”

My arms around his shoulders got tight.

“God’s country, Lanie,” he said against my hair.

I nodded against his throat. “God’s country.”

I felt his lips leave my hair as his hand at my head gave me a squeeze. I got the message, pulled back and looked up at him.

Hop touched his mouth to mine then lifted up and touched his lips to my forehead. He moved back, his eyes caught mine, he gave me a sexy smile that engaged the lines at the sides of his eyes then he let me go, turned to the door and disappeared behind it.

I went to the plantation shutters, slid them slightly open and looked out, watching him saunter to his bike, throw a leg over, and roar away.

He’d come all the way to my house to carry one suitcase down one flight of stairs.

And to check on me.

I slapped the shutters closed, leaned my forehead against them and smiled.

My cell on the nightstand clattered, waking me.

Sleepily, I reached out, looked at the display, touched it with my thumb and put it to my ear, a smile curving my lips.

“Hey,” I greeted quietly.

“How’d it go last night?” Hop asked.

He’d been worried about me.

God,
God
… I liked that.

“It went,” I answered.

“My mouth is between your legs.”

I blinked at the pillows. “What?”

“Fuck, you taste like honey,” he growled.

My legs shifted under the sheets.

I knew what this was. It was an excellent way to take my mind off things and I wanted it.

“Hop—”

“Touch yourself, lady,” he whispered.

Without delay, I slid my hand in my panties.

I must have made some noise because Hop was growling again in my ear. “My tongue’s right there.”

Oh God, this was good.

“No,” he stated. “I’m sucking.”

Oh
God,
this was
good.

“Baby,” I breathed.

“Quiet, lady, and listen to me.”

I did as he said and miraculously, because usually when I did this my fingers didn’t work, I needed a toy, Hop achieved spectacular results with taking my mind off things.

After I came down, I heard silence.

“Do you want me to keep going? Give the same to you?” I offered, my voice sated, husky.

“Don’t come on my gut, babe.”

He had noted this before but, in these circumstances, I found this was interesting and surprising.

“You don’t, uh…?” I trailed off.

“I do but not with a woman.”

“Um, just pointing out, honey, I’m not with you.”

“You on the phone?”

I smiled and answered, “Yeah.”

“Then you’re with me,” he stated.

Even on the phone, I was with him.

Nice.

“I gave you that, you make it up to me Monday night,” he finished.

“I can do that,” I replied.

“I know you can,” he told me. I could hear the grin in his voice as he went on to say where he’d be with the kids for breakfast and when. “You think you can get your folks there?”

We were going to “bump into each other”, friends coincidentally on the same mountain at the same time, all so Hop could have my back without my parents knowing he was.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Do that, babe. See you in a few.”

“Okay, and… Hop?”

“Right here.”

“Uh, thanks for the orgasm.”

He didn’t hide the laughter in his voice when he replied, “Anything you need, lady, I’m there for you one way or another.”

Yes, it seemed he was.

“Thanks, honey.”

“Later, babe.”

“Bye, Hop.”

We disconnected. I looked at my phone a moment before putting it back on the nightstand. I stared at it resting there while stretching a bit and smiling a whole lot more.

Then I curved my arms around a pillow, holding it close.

Anything you need, babe, I’m there for you one way or another.

Yes.

It seemed he was.

My smile got bigger.

* * *

“Miss Lanie!”

This was screeched the moment I walked into the restaurant behind my mother but ahead of my father, who was holding the door, and it was shrieked by Molly Kincaid.

Obviously Hopper hadn’t told his kids I’d be there. I knew this because Molly was screeching and Cody was sitting on a bench at the side of the entry of the restaurant and considering me with some surprise. Hop was standing by him looking his usual amazing in faded jeans and boots. He had a black thermal henley under his cut and his hair was falling in his face.

All him, just him, no pretense.

However, he had shaved but he’d left a new patch of whiskers under his lip as he’d said he’d do.

It was a good addition.

I only had seconds to take all this in because Molly was racing to me with her usual Molly exuberance.

She skidded to a halt, her head tipped back, her long, gorgeous, wavy black hair wild and free, her gray eyes shining with little kid excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried then twisted toward her dad. “Dad, look! Miss Lanie’s here!”

“I see,” Hop murmured, moving toward us, and it crashed over me this sucked because I couldn’t touch him, kiss him, even smile at him like I wanted to smile.

Instead, I caught his eyes and greeted, “Hey, Hop.” I looked down to Molly. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Great!” she cried.

I grinned at her and looked to Cody. “Hey, Cody.”

“Yo!” he called, all mini-biker badass.

I smiled at him, my eyes slid to Hop and I thought, to hell with it.

I moved into him, wrapped my hand around the leather over his bicep and leaned in.

Brushing my lips against his cheek close to his ear, quick and low, I whispered a much different, “Hey.”

“Hey.” His return whisper was also quick, low, and
rough.

I pulled back, caught his eyes, saw they were intent, warm and pleased, gave him a small smile then turned toward my parents.

“Mom, Dad, isn’t this fabulous?” I asked even though they were taking all this in, especially Hop. The blank masks on their faces didn’t quite hide their aversion to our present company. “This is a really good friend of mine, Hopper Kincaid.” I motioned to Hop. “And his kids, Molly and Cody.” I motioned to the kids.

“Hey!” Molly chirped, grinning big at Mom and Dad.

“How do you do,” Mom replied and, at her formal words uttered to an eleven-year-old, my head quickly turned to Hop whereupon I rolled my eyes before I turned back to Mom and Dad.

I did this hearing Cody’s repeated, “Yo!”

Dad’s mouth got tight before he forced it to smile at Molly then he looked to Hop.

Hop stuck out his hand. “Mr. Heron.”

“Yes,” Dad mumbled. “Good to meet you, erm… Hopper.”

Hop gripped Dad’s hand tight and let it go. “Hop.”

“I’m sorry?” Dad asked, taking a step he didn’t need to take away from Hop.

“Hop,” Hop repeated. “Friends call me Hop. Lanie’s a good friend, means her family are friends.” He smiled at Dad. “So call me Hop.”

“Right,” Dad murmured, then obviously forced out a mumbled, “Hop.”

Hopper ignored that, leaned into Mom and took her hand, saying, “Mizz Heron.”

“Well, um… of course, uh… pleased to meet you,” Mom stammered, uncomfortable and also moving back quickly after Hop released her.