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Page 17 of Property of Blade (Kings of Anarchy MC: Alaska #1)

I shake off the thought.

Not now.

Reaching for a corn chip, I scoop up some of the chili and pop it into my mouth. It’s hot, spicy, with just the right amount of heat. To my surprise, it’s really good, so much better than her mis-happen cookies.

I can’t help but grin as I swallow, looking back up at her. “Not bad,” I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Definitely beats the cookies.”

She gives me a playful look, though I catch the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah, I guess I’m better at chili than baking,” she says with a chuckle.

“What do you do for work?”

She looks up from her plate, her eyes meeting mine, a little spark of something in them. “I’m a bookkeeper.”

I nod, processing her answer. “And you do that from here?”

“Yep. All I need is a good internet connection,” she says with a shrug. “Most of my clients I’ve never met in person, but we do Zoom meetings from time to time.”

I lean back in my chair, curious. “Does it pay well?”

She laughs, a sound that’s light and easy, and nods. “I do okay. Once COVID hit, people were more open to remote workers, and I’d had enough of the nine-to-five grind. COVID was good for me.”

There’s something in the way she says it, as if she’s learned to make the most of things, to take what life throws her, and find a way to thrive.

I nod, impressed. “Sounds like you turned a bad situation into something good.”

She gives a quick, almost sheepish smile. “I try.” Then, she sips her drink, and for a moment, it feels as though the conversation shifts to something more personal. “Did you get COVID?”

With a quick shake of my head, I respond, “No. I don’t get sick.”

Her eyebrows furrow, a bit of curiosity in her gaze. “Ever?”

Shrugging, I try to keep the mood light. “No.”

Hannah’s gaze lingers on me, the silence hanging heavily between us before her expression shifts into something I can’t quite read.

The need to explain, to make sure she doesn’t misunderstand takes over, and I say, “The key, for me, to good health is to eat well, train, and keep to myself. I’m just lucky, I guess.”

She doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she nods slowly, her eyes still on me as if measuring my words.

Then she shifts in her seat, her tone softer now. “More like blessed. I got COVID twice, and the second time, it turned into pneumonia. I never went anywhere. Well, except to the grocery store, but I wore a mask.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected.

“Were you in the hospital?” I ask, my voice gentle, trying not to pry too hard but needing to know.

Hannah laughs, but there’s no humor in it, just a hollow sound that makes something inside me tighten.

“I went. They told me I was fine and didn’t have COVID, so I went home. My temperature spikes were a rollercoaster. This went on for two weeks, and so I went to my doctor, who sent me for X-rays. She said I had pneumonia. After that, I got better.”

“You really are something else,” I say, my voice filled with admiration. “Most people would have been mad at not being diagnosed in the first place.”

Hannah shrugs. “I was too sick to be mad, and then I was just grateful my doc fixed me.”

I nod slowly, a heavy thought swirling in my mind. Humans are so fragile.

As we’ve been talking, I realize I’ve finished my meal, while Hannah hasn’t even made it halfway through hers.

She glances down at her plate, then over at mine, and after a second’s hesitation, she asks, “Do you want more? There’s plenty in the freezer.”

“If you don’t mind?” I reply, giving her a small, almost apologetic smile.

I walk to the freezer, open it, and pull out the chili. The cold hits me for a second as I place the container in the microwave. The hum of the appliance fills the silence.

“Did you want another drink?” Hannah asks from behind me, her voice soft.

“Yeah. Do you?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.

Hannah nods.

“Let me get them.” I open her refrigerator. “You sure like your soda,” I say, raising an eyebrow as I pull two cans of Pepsi Max from the packed top shelf. Walking over to her, I hand them over with a smirk.

She gives a playful shrug, her eyes dancing with a bit of humor. “It’s the only sweet thing I drink, and it’s sugar-free, so winning!”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Well, as long as it’s winning for you, that’s what matters.”

She raises an eyebrow, her voice light but knowing. “There’s an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.”

Shrugging, I take a sip from my can. “I like it, too, but it’s full of chemicals, and not all of them are good for you.”

Hannah’s face screws up in mock distaste as she takes a sip. “I know. I try to only drink it on the weekends, but it’d be rude not to drink with you.”

Laughing, my gaze softens as I walk over to the microwave when it dings. Pulling the container out, I walk back to the table, this time leaving the chili in the container instead of putting it in my bowl.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I say with a smirk, setting the chili down.

Hannah shakes her head, but there’s that same playful light in her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Sitting across from her, there’s an easy comfort in it, in the way we banter back and forth, even as she tries to downplay it. Something about this feels right, and it’s happened so quickly.

Hannah reaches over and touches my hand, her fingers light against my skin. “Where’d you go just now?”

I blink, pulled back into the moment. “What do you mean?”

“You suddenly looked miles away.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s curiosity in her eyes.

Shaking my head, I dig into the chili, using it to ground myself. “Just thinking.”

She watches me for a moment before asking, “Tell me something about you. What’s it like being the President of an MC? Are there many other MCs up here?”

I take a slow breath, leaning back slightly in my chair. “Yes. But this is our town, so they leave us alone.”

Hannah leans in, lowering her voice just enough to make my pulse quicken. “Are you dangerous?”

Her words hit me with a jolt. I lean in, too, my gaze shifting between her lips and eyes as the tension builds between us. “You have no idea.”

Hannah’s breath hitches, the air between us crackles, her eyes go wide, and a flicker of something—fear, desire, maybe both—crosses her face. “I-I think I’d like to find out.”

Her words hang there, thick with possibility, and for a moment, time slows. The space between us feels charged.

With a growl, I stand, move around the table, and pull her to her feet. My hand wraps around her ponytail, my fingers threading through the strands as I walk her backward into the wall. My eyes never leave hers. The intensity between us is undeniable as I crush my lips to hers.

Hannah lets out a soft moan, her body pressing closer as my hand trails up her waist, but then, suddenly, her hand lands firmly on my chest, pushing me back.

“Stop,” she breathes, her voice strained.

Sucking in a deep breath, I take a step back and put more distance between us, but I can’t understand why she stopped. “Why?”

“Look at me,” she says, her voice quieter now as if she’s giving me something I’m not ready for.

Confused, I look her up and down. She’s wearing baggy pants and a black sweatshirt covered in cat hair, but there’s no mistaking it. She’s beautiful, effortlessly so.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, my words thick with frustration, my gaze locked on her.

She exhales, shaking her head. “I look like I just rolled out of bed. Before you got here, I had a face mask on. When we do this, I want you to beg for me, not pity me.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. It’s as though she’s hiding behind something, something I didn’t see before. The weight of her insecurity hangs in the air, but I won’t let it stand.

Shaking my head, still in shock, I burst out, “I don’t pity you. You’re beautiful. I don’t care if you’re in your LBD, naked, or in this.” My tone is firm, and I hope my conviction is clear. “I. Like. You.”

She shakes her head slightly, biting her lip as if she’s still not convinced. “But you’re hot.”

Barking out a laugh, I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re the first woman in this town who’s gone on a date with me. Most of them are polite, but they steer clear of the MC president. It’s me who’s lucky you even let me through the door.”

A beat of silence hangs between us as we both stand there, the weight of my words settling in. Pity isn’t what this is. It’s never been that. I like her just as she is, and I don’t know how to make her see that.

Hannah’s gaze falls to the floor, her shoulders tightening, but then she slowly, carefully, closes the distance between us. Her hands rest on my chest. The warmth of her touch grounds me.

“I like you too,” she says, her voice soft but steady.

My fingers slide under her chin, lifting her face until her eyes meet mine. I want her to see all of me because she deserves that. “Thank you for dinner.”

Her eyes flicker down to my chest, and for a second, the air between us feels heavier.

But I keep going, pushing through the tension that has wrapped around us.

“But I can see you want this to be...” I pause, searching for the right words.

“Perfect. And I want to give that to you. But, Hannah, I am who I am. I’m a man who’s been alone for a long time, and I’m many things, but gentle and slow aren’t in my nature. But for you, I’ll try.”

She opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something, but I put a finger over her lips, silencing her with a quiet, tender touch.

“So, I’m going to kiss you goodnight, and tomorrow, I’m coming to pick you up at six.

You’ll be in your LBD and six-inch heels, and you’re coming to my house for dinner. ”

She stares at me, her breath catching slightly as she processes what I’ve said. “J-Just dinner?”

I smile, leaning in just a little closer, my voice low and teasing. “How about we see how it goes?”

The tension in her eyes fades, replaced with something lighter, something more open.