The Possibility of Trey (11 page)

Holy shit!

All I could do was blink at his words— his beautiful, awesome words that had caught on in places I didn't even know were within me.

Even the guys were silent. At least for a span of about fifteen seconds.

"Oh, yeah. I get that every Friday night down at Tomatoes from whoever is working the center pole…"

"I don't care about special feelings, I just need to know if she'll spread 'em…"

"Yeah and that kind of shit will have you handing her your balls every fuckin' morning in the time it takes for you to blink."

As the guys ragged, I caught sight of Cal's wedding ring. A half-inch wide of gold that sat front and center on the fourth finger of his left hand. Something I'd never seen due to his perpetual and studied use of work gloves.

"But, did it continue?" I asked Cal softly so only his ears could hear. "That specialness?"

"Seven years now and it's only gotten better," he admitted, equally as quiet and with a rueful grin.

I cast my thoughts inward, wondering if I could make Trey feel like that .

Because he did it for me. Let me know in every way possible without words or grabs or yucky touches that he valued and wanted me.

Even though I wasn't sure exactly how I was gonna do it, I was gonna give it back.

Give Trey the idea of the possibility of an 'us'.

He wasn't sure but something between their text messages of last night and the end of her shift had changed things. Maybe it was because she'd stopped by his office on her way out and had offered a soft, "see you later?"

At his nod, she'd simply moved on but the view of her in his doorway had been front and center in his mind for the hour or so until he'd left. Gone from not only his office but the compound as well, preferring to keep his own company in his own space rather than down in the clubhouse.

He was, he admitted to himself, feeling raw.

Exposed somehow.

Roaming the space of his house, he'd done a quick clean in spite of having a housekeeper that came once a week. He'd ordered pizza and then only ate one slice with a beer that had gone flat before he'd even drank half of it.

At eight, he'd taken his shower and had carefully shaved, shaping his goatee as meticulously as he'd do if he was set to meet a head of state. Deliberating over his selection of cologne had presented another dilemma.

She always smelled…clean. Like soap and water and girl. Nothing of the flowery musky or the vanilla so many women wore to excess.

He wanted to smell the same way.

So he let it go and decided it would be a no spritz kind of evening.

He'd spent ten minutes deliberating on what to wear. Jeans were a given but what kind. Old and faded? Blue and crisp with a crease? Black? Straight legged or boot cut? Christ, when had he gotten so fashion conscious?

Trey grabbed at a pair and pulled them on over a pair of black boxer briefs. Stopping before he fastened them, he recognized he was asking himself if he thought she'd like his underwear.

Fuck!

This was too much.

If she didn't fucking like his underwear, his goddamn clothes or the shape of his ass-kicking goatee she could go fuck herself! He didn't need this shit. Who was she to think he had to fucking impress her, for god's sake?

He ruled.

He was the president of the Hellions and she had fuck-all to do with his life.

He stood at his double sink vanity, gazing into his reflection and realized he was completely out in left field.

All by himself.

Creating pressure he didn't want or need over a girl that he recognized he both wanted and needed.

He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, his forearms going to his thighs. His head dropping into the space opened by his shoulders.

Trey was out of his element. Which was a new one on him. Since he'd gone through the program at fifteen, he'd pretty much known what he wanted all his life and how to get it.

But in this?

God, he was so out of his depth he felt like he was drowning.

He glanced at his watch and saw it was already nine o'clock.

Time to get with it.

.
.
.
.*

I waited on the porch for him, long since assigning my parents to the shared room they'd chosen. Grateful to be out and away from a repeat of the noises I'd heard the night before.

Cal's words had echoed within me as I'd showered and dressed for my date letting me know that whatever I wore was of such little importance that I could've been in my pajama pants and t-shirt. Because if whatever Trey and I had growing between us was strong enough, was real and true, the outsides of us wouldn't matter.

The time since listening to Cal had found me…fluid. I flowed through the rest of our shift and then back onto HC property.

I was liquid as I confirmed our date when I'd stopped by Trey's office and as I'd gone home. Everything was easy-peasy as I'd made dinner and done the typical everyday things to get our family clean, fed and comfortable.

And I was completely at ease with whatever would happen that evening. Because, from what I'd gotten with Cal, anything that was supposed to happen
would
happen. Anything that wasn't, wouldn't.

I heard Trey's bike before I saw him and watched as he shut his engine off a half-block away from where my house sat, coasting until he stopped right in front of me.

Standing, I ran my hands over my top, my jeans before stepping out into the tiny sidewalk.

I wanted to touch him so bad I felt my fingers twitch.

"Hey, Trey," I offered and made sure my smile was the fullest I knew to bring as I waved. "Saved you a spot."

"Did you, now?" His deep voice a gentle tease in the night air. "Kept it warm?"

I moved another few feet along the sidewalk that connected my house to his bike at the curb. Stopping two full concrete squares away, I shoved my hands in my back pockets. "Uh-huh."

Even I could hear the nice in my voice although it wasn't a forced or even an uncomfortable niceness by that point. And my smile no longer felt unnatural.

His grin split into a full-fledged smile as well, flashing the double dimples and I felt something tumble within me. Breaking our shared smile-a-thon, I saw his eyes drift over the front of my house. I'd kept the front porch light off and had opened the curtains which let the soft glow of the living room to dimly light the small porch and steps.

When his eyes came back to me, he offered, "then let's go cop a squat, pretty girl."

I led the way to the stairs before dropping my ass to the top one. As soon as he was seated, taking up almost three quarters of the space, I reached for the bottles I'd tucked behind the post next to me. "Beer?"

"Thanks," he murmured as his warm fingers reached to cover mine holding the cold bottle. As moves went, it was pretty smooth and I didn't stir an inch except to get lost in the perfect brown of his eyes. When we disconnected, there were shufflings and small movements as we both twisted off the tops bringing the bottles to our mouths. The mood between us was tense, but not in a bad way. Maybe anticipatory was a better word.

"Parents asleep?" His voice was like dark molasses in the still night.

I couldn't help my chuckle as I shook my head, feeling the layers of my hair slide around my shoulders. "They're in their room. I don't want to think beyond that."

"I'm taking this is a new development between them?"

"Yeah and a shocking one, too. Since mom's heart attack, they've had separate rooms. Now? They don't." I felt a shrug lift my shoulders as my eyes traced the outline of his Harley. He raised his beer bottle my way.

"To parents healthy enough to enjoy each other," he toasted giving me the gift of the dimples again.

I clanked my bottle gently against his and felt my own smile spread since I hadn't quite looked at my parent's behavior in that light before. "Damn straight."

The sounds of cicadas and crickets filled the silence of the night and it was an easy stillness which I found unusual. I'd discovered most people didn't enjoy quiet and tended to have a need to fill the air with talk even if whatever they said meant shit-all.

But Trey didn't and I wondered how much quiet time a busy guy like him actually got in a given day.

"Tell me something, Dallas. Tell me something about you that I can't find on your resume or credit report." His voice wasn't demanding but curious. And it was that note of curiosity that had me wanting to open up to him, to hand him another piece or two of me.

"I hate green vegetables," I breathed after thinking for a minute. "I know I'm supposed to eat them, that they're all good for me and stuff. But I abhor them. Broccoli, spinach, asparagus…god, even damn green beans. Hate them and lie to everybody when they're served."

I felt his eyes on me before I heard it start. A deep wonderful laugh that seemed to begin at his toes and roam up the long length of him to explode out of his mouth in waves. Dark, delicious waves of laughter that were so rich, deep and
right
that I couldn't help but laugh along with him. Not that what I said was all that funny. But for whatever reason at that moment, it had both of us in stitches. When we were down to simple chuckles, I gave it right back. "Your turn."

"Me? You want to know about me?" He sounded amazed at my inquisitiveness in him and I got a shoulder nudge along with his question. "Uhm. Let's see." He stretched his long, long legs out, the heels of his boots hitting the walkway as he thought.

"I've never worn a tie. Wouldn't know where to even start if I had to do one up. Unless the fucking thing's a clip-on, it'd have to hang around my neck like some chick's fucking scarf."

Okay, now
that
was funny. Both the image of bad-ass Trey wearing a tie done in a standard knot and then of him wearing one that just hung from under his collar. Which set me off again, my deep belly chortles breaking into the insect's night song. I counted it as good that he again laughed with me. And when it died down enough for the cicadas and the crickets to be heard again, I found we were leaning together shoulder to shoulder. A move which didn't mean much in the whole man-woman scheme of things but there in that moment meant a lot to me.

"I like laughing with you, pretty girl," he said, bringing the bottle to his mouth and guzzling the last of what was in his bottle.

"Thanks, Trey. It's nice to have someone to laugh with." I brought my own drink to my lips only to find it empty. When was the last time I'd finished a beer? I didn't drink much but when I did, I was more of a bourbon-babe than beer-broad.

Our conversation meandered, moving in spits and starts, covering everything from restaurants to movies, debating trucks versus motorcycles and just talking and laughing as we opened up to one another

"So, how do you get a social life with what you've got going here?" I'd grabbed us another couple of bottles of beer as our exchange continued. He'd set his down and reached to lean his weight on the hands he'd placed on the floorboards of the porch behind him. One of which was so close to my ass I could feel it's heat in the smidgeon of exposed skin between my jeans and top.

"Social life? What's that?" I asked, propping an elbow on a knee and resting my head in my hand as I twisted to look at him.

"You don't date?"

I shook my head.

"Never?"

"A long, long time ago." I hated to have to admit it, but it had to be said. "As you know, I've got responsibilities."

He nodded and turned his eyes to the street. "So, you're not seeing anyone?"

"No." My answer was quick and to the point. Which seemed to cause the hand that'd been sitting just behind my ass to move up and stroke my back. Creating a reaction that shimmered both within and without.

"Are you open to changing that, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice almost but not quite a whisper.

"With you, yeah." As soon as the words were out, I felt the heat in my face at my frankness just as his hand went beneath my hair captured my neck. His touch was softer than grip but tighter than a caress, just enough to let me know it was there.

He was weaving some kind of spell between us, some kind of magic that I didn't want to stop.

The hand on my nape exerted a little pressure and I turned my head to his. "Perfect response, little Dallas," he growled, our faces mere inches apart. I got stuck in his eyes, in that most perfect color of brown and felt my heart speed up as his face got closer.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he advised, his eyes dropping to my mouth.

"Thanks for the warning," I breathed back in spite of the fact I was having to force the air in and out of my lungs. And I waited, the anticipation of having his mouth on mine creating little tremors inside. I was just about to pull back to figure out what the hold-up was when it happened.

When I felt his beautiful, sexy full mouth brush mine. It was soft and gentle, almost experimental as his lips grazed with just the right amount of pressure and wetness. It was exploratory and almost a greeting as he moved his mouth the tiniest bit adding the smallest amount of suction.