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She jolted to her feet. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I leaned forward to adjust one of the logs in the fire pit, unbothered. “If that were true, you would still be sitting down. You should be sitting down. How’s your head not spinning?”
“Oh, it is,” she snapped. “But my desire to kick you in the balls again is stronger than any alcohol.”
There it was. The spark. The sign of defiance that told me she’d be damned if she let herself cave into defeat. She was too smart for that.
The fire crackled, spitting sparks, but the real glow was coming from her. Caroline radiated fury and grief and she needed an outlet. For a split second, I thought about offering the chance for her to knee me in the balls if it kept her a spitfire.
Spitfire. That was a good alternative to sweetheart and princess.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” I said. “It’s not like I helped you escape that ogre, took you to my brothers’ shop, drove you into the middle of a national park, or tended to your wounds, or anything. Most importantly, spitfire,” I said with a hand over my heart, “I made you ramen. I don’t do that for just any woman.”
Caroline scoffed. She was good at that. “Spitfire?”
“Suits you. Would you rather it be sweetheart or princess? Or just Caroline?”
“Don’t call me anything. And you’re saying you’re so popular with the ladies? Do you make them steak and asparagus?”
“Bold of you to assume just because I’m a guy, I can barbecue.”
“I didn’t. I assumed you just toss it into the oven and eat it with your hands.”
“Rude. I’m a biker, not a caveman.”
“I’ve yet to be proven wrong.”
“Okay.” I chuckled, loving every damn word out of her mouth. “We can agree I’m not sophisticated.”
Her knees wobbled. My grin flickered. I tensed to lurch up and catch her if she started to keel over. But she lowered herself onto the bench without issue. I had no idea how she was still awake and kicking. I had no idea how I was still awake.
Then she reached for the tequila bottle again.
I was on that shit like my life depended on it. I grabbed the bottle from her trembling fingers. “Nah-ah-ah!”
“Give it to me,” she ordered as if I were just one of her Wolverine buddies to boss around. I was tempted to give her something, alright.
I plopped down on the opposite side of the table, taking a swig, not breaking eye contact. It burned like fire, but I acted like it was refreshing as hell just to piss her off. “You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?”
She didn’t even try to hide it. “Yes. Up until recently.”
“Did you throw tantrums in the toy aisle when you were a kid?” I set the tequila on the ground next to me, then leaned forward on both elbows. She clearly didn’t like anyone in her wide personal bubble. But I wanted to prove to her I wasn’t a threat. I was here to help, no matter how much she claimed she didn’t want it. “I know I did. My old man beat me with a belt if I got unruly in public.”
Caroline opened her pretty mouth to retort but stopped short. “Your father…”
I nodded. “Yup. I can tease all I want about your old man, but I’d be lying if I said mine was a role model.”
My grin faded when I saw something shift in her. I had hoped my story would make her feel less alone but I didn’t expect her to show it so raw. She was looking at me like something in her cracked wide open. Recognition in those deep blue, haunted eyes framed by surprisingly dark eyelashes. Understand, maybe. Realization that she wasn’t the only one born into a hellscape devised by her own blood.
Before I could stop myself, I said huskily, “You look good like that. Unguarded.”
Caroline immediately threw up her walls, but it wasn’t a total shutout. Now she was curious. And flustered. “I didn’t think men like you would admit shit like that.”
“I’m an open book, spitfire,” I said, just as low. My eyes were roaming now. Her eyes, her busted lip, her nose that wasn’t quite perfect yet was, the slope of her jaw scraped up from her tipping over in that chair. The slender column of her neck, the hollow of her throat just visible. Below that…
I barely had enough focus to finish my sentence. “Ask me anything…”
“Are you trying to stare at my tits?”