Page 15 of Creed (Satan’s Fury MC- Little Rock #6)

DEVIN

M e:

How about that dinner?

I stared at the message for a second before hitting send. Butterflies erupted in the pit of my stomach as my fingers hovered over the screen. I was about to open a door I wasn’t sure I needed to open. This whole thing could blow up in my face, and I could end up hurt again.

But it was also a chance to feel alive. Alive in a way that only Jameson could make me feel. So, I went for it. I sent that message, and I held my breath until I read his response.

Jameson:

I’m in.

My place Friday night at seven.

I’ll make dinner and a fire.

Me:

I have the kids this weekend.

Again, my chest tightened. I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about me not being readily available. But it was a hard truth that he was going to have to accept if we moved forward with this. My kids were my life, and anyone who wanted to be with me would have to understand that.

He didn’t respond.

All the others had been quick and right to the punch.

And now, nothing.

I stared at the screen, and regret started to sink in.

Damn it.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he would walk away when he realized I came with too much baggage. Maybe it was time to accept that this thing between us had run its course a long time ago.

I was just about to toss my phone onto the couch when it lit up.

Jameson:

Bring them.

Don’t bring them.

I don’t care—as long as I get to see you.

The relief hit me harder than I’d expected. Until then, I hadn’t realized just how much I wanted this—how much I wanted him.

Me:

Sounds good. What can I bring?

Jameson:

Just you.

And that smile you gave me at the coffee shop.

My stomach flipped, and all I could do was stare at the screen, biting back a smile like some teenager.

Me:

You’re trouble.

Jameson:

Only if you stand me up Friday night.

Me:

I’ll be there.

The rest of the week was a blur. I busied myself with work, laundry, lesson planning, and chasing the kids around.

I was trying to keep everything spinning.

It helped, but the second I slowed down—when the chores were done and the kids were off in their rooms, I would think about seeing him again, and my stomach would take a nosedive.

And it all came rushing back.

The nerves.

The excitement.

The doubt.

I was enjoying the array of feelings, but when I asked Austin and Chrissy if they wanted to go to their dad’s for the weekend, both said they didn’t feel like going and wanted to stay home.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Part of me thought I should take them with me and let Jameson meet them in some casual, no-pressure kind of way.

But that idea unraveled the second I played it out in my head.

It was too soon.

I didn’t even know how things would play out between us, and there was no reason to get the kids involved until I did. I told myself I’d know when it was right. So, I called my mother. As soon as she answered, I said, “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Okay. And what’s that?”

“Could you keep the kids Friday night?”

“Of course! Do you have plans? They didn’t want to go to Brian’s?”

“After what happened last weekend, they don’t want to see him for a while.”

“I can’t really blame them for that. The audacity of that man. I mean, really. It’s just human decency to give your children a little notice that there’s a new woman in your life, even if she isn’t all that new.”

“I know. You’re right, but he didn’t. And now he has to deal with the backlash.”

“And so do you, which isn’t exactly fair.”

“I don’t care about me. I am just worried about the kids.”

“Well, I’m your mother, so I get to worry about you all I want.” She barely had a chance to catch her breath before asking, “Speaking of which, you didn’t answer my question earlier. If you want me to watch them, you must have plans?”

We’d already talked about the whole Jameson thing, and she seemed supportive. But I wasn’t sure she meant it, so I braced myself as I told her, “I’m having dinner with Jameson.”

“Oh.” She paused for a moment, which meant she was trying to choose her words wisely before saying, “So, you decided to go through with it.”

“You told me to.”

“Now, don’t go mincing words with me. I said if you think there are unresolved things between you, then you should go figure out what it is.”

“And that’s what I’m planning to do.”

“Is he still part of that motorcycle club?”

“He is.”

“And isn’t the club the reason he…”

“Mom, don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to start anything, but you’ve got to remember it’s not just you anymore. You have the children and their safety to consider.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Okay. I’m not saying anything more.”

“Um-hmm. Sure you won’t,” I teased. “But don’t worry yourself too much. We have no idea how this dinner with him will go.”

“I don’t know. I have a feeling it will go pretty well.”

“You do?”

“I remember the way he used to look at you, like the sun and stars revolved around you and only you, and a love like that doesn’t just go away. It stays with a man, just like it has stayed with you.”

“I don’t know if I still love him.”

“You do. I can hear it your voice. I’ve heard it every time you’ve ever mentioned the boy’s name, and I hope, for your sake, it works out. But if it doesn’t and he hurts you again, I will hunt him down and shoot him in the kneecaps or dismember him and feed him to the fishes.”

“Well, that’s a bit aggressive.”

“That’s how badly I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay. I get it. I’ll be careful and guard my heart.”

“Good. Now, go have a good time at dinner, and I’ll do something special with the kids. Maybe get your father to grill burgers, and we can make s’mores or something.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, and I mean that. I love having the kids here.”

“And they love being there. We’ll see you Friday afternoon around five.”

“Perfect.”

And just like that, I had it all handled.

Or so I thought.

Panic started to set in the night before the date. I was second-guessing everything and couldn’t even think of something to wear. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just dinner, but nothing I tried on felt right. Everything was either too plain, too dressy, or too “I’m trying too hard.”

Then I thought of that red tank top I used to wear.

Jameson always seemed to gravitate towards it, like his hands had a memory all their own when I had it on.

Sadly, I didn’t have that shirt anymore, but I had something close.

So, I decided to go with it and a short denim skirt.

It was a cute but simple outfit that made me feel like me.

Not a teacher.

Not a mom.

Just Me.

And for the first time all week, I let myself feel the thrill of it all. Really feel it . I was going to see him again. Not by accident. Not in a dream. A real, undeniable date.

I held onto the feeling the following day. I was practically beaming through my lecture. I could only imagine what my kids were thinking. I was usually so monochromatic and showed little emotion but today was different. I was happy, and that wasn’t something I’d felt in quite some time.

When classes were done, I went home and picked up the kids. I dropped them off at my parents before rushing back to the house to get showered and dressed. In a blink, I was in my car and driving over to the address Jameson had texted me.

His house was tucked back and difficult to see from the main road, and I was halfway down the drive before his house was visible. It was a beautiful, two-story white house with black trim, and there was a white fence surrounding the entire property.

I won’t deny that it was a little intimidating. It was twice the size of the place he had when we were together, and I couldn’t even compare it to the one I had now. Jameson had clearly done well for himself.

It made me wonder what else had changed with him.

I was feeling a little hesitant as I pulled up next to his motorcycle and parked. I got out and straightened my skirt before heading up to the front door. With each step, I told myself it was just dinner.

I had nothing to worry about.

No reason to be nervous or apprehensive.

We would eat, have a glass of wine, and talk about old times. We might even laugh a little, and then, I would head home before the ten o’clock news.

But the second he greeted me at the door with that sexy smirk, I knew I was in trouble. He looked unfairly handsome in his jeans and a black T-shirt, sleeves tight on his arms, and that little stubble on his jaw.

It was like he knew exactly what would get to me, and he’d used it to his advantage. His eyes skirted over me, and his smirk widened as he took a step forward and said, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I let my eyes skirt over his T-shirt that was currently clinging tightly to his muscular chest. “You do, too.”

“I look beautiful?” He smirked. “Hmm, I’m gonna have to step up my game.”

“Handsome. You look handsome.”

“So, it’s just you tonight?”

“Yeah, the kids are with my folks.”

“Ah, okay. And how are they making it?”

“Good. They stay busy with their little booth at the antique shop, and when they aren’t doing that, they’re always off on some trip.”

“Must be nice.”

“Must be.” A smile slipped across my face as I said, “Mom sends her best.”

“Yeah, I bet she does,” he scoffed.

I was focused on the way he was looking at me and the way his mouth moved, but I nodded and smiled. In a blink, he was right in front of me with that look in his eyes. I knew that look. It was the one he always gave right before he kissed me.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me towards him like he owned me. It was something he did back when we were together, so strong and dominate, and it always turned me on. And it turned me on now.

I held his gaze for a moment, and then his mouth was on mine.

Rough. Hot. Unapologetic.

And that one kiss seemed to release all the things we never said to one another. I didn’t think. I just kissed him back. I wanted more. Needed more. So, I leaned into him, relishing in the feeling of his body so close to mine.

I arched beneath him, lost in the feel of his mouth and hands. He wasn’t the man I remembered. Now, he was a defined mix between fire and ice—slow, steady, and dangerous. He was like a stiff drink that you didn’t dare touch until you were ready for it to hit you and hit you hard.

I wasn’t just ready. I was thirsty for it.