Page 12 of Haze's Jewel
“Tame?” he raises his eyebrow and wiggles it suggestively.
Despite myself I start giggling.
“I guess I’m at least housebroken,” he says as he reaches for his leather vest. He looks like he’s ready to head to the door, but then he stops and spins around, “Did you have something to eat yet? I don’t wanna drag you out if you want breakfast first, or we can go to a café or something?”
“I’m okay, I had the orange juice and pancakes. By the way, did you make those? They were delicious.”
Haze laughs, “I might be a pretty face but I’m no cook. The pancakes are courtesy of Harvey, he’s one of our prospects, dude sure knows his way around a kitchen.”
By this time, we’re moving towards the side door. Instead of going to his bike, he takes me to his convertible. When I shoot him a questioning glance, he explains. “Best take the vehicle with space for your packages. The last thing we need is to lose a shopping bag while flying down the interstate. Also on a practical note, riding with you holding on one-armed isn’t the safest.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense. About the shopping, I doubt I’ll be buying enough for it to matter though.”
He opens the door for me with a rueful grin. “We can argue about that later.”
As he walks around to get into the driver’s seat it occurs to me that he plans to spoil me. It’s been so long since I’ve been treated to a real shopping spree that I can’t help but get excited. Truly, he doesn’t have to do this, but I can tell how happy it makes him. I decide to play along and just look for bargains wherever we go. We can make a nice day of it without breaking the bank.
***
We start out having lunch at a fancy little bistro near the nature reserve. When we’re at our table with a magnificent view of the forest, I relax. The vibe here is casual, and going by the motorcycles parked out front I wonder if this is owned by his MC, he had told me they had a few businesses around town. “This is a nice place. Do you come here often?”
“Yeah, my club brothers introduced me to this place. It’s owned and operated by an allied club president. Although we like to support fellow bikers when we can, I’d come here regardless because the food is outstanding.” Pausing briefly, he adds excitedly, “Every single thing on the menu is organic and locally sourced.”
I smile at him nerding out about food. It’s kind of cute how enthusiastic he is about eating right.
“I’m sorry I even asked if you did steroids earlier, I can see you’re really into healthy living. After my accident and seeing how long it’s taking my mom to recover from her spinal injury, I really want to get fit again. I guess eating right is part of that,” I say as I look at the menu. If I hadn’t already gathered it was a biker-owned place, the picture of a motorcycle with a cross on the gas tank that graced the front would have told me loud and clear. I opened it and glanced at the choices, it all looked good. Even after my small breakfast I was tempted.
“When you’re up to it, maybe you could start coming to the gym with me. I know you probably don’t want to bulk up like a gorilla, but my gym has a lot of machines designed to give you a good cardiac workout.”
I perked up, immediately interested in working out with him. “I’d love that, if I can afford the membership.”
“Don’t worry about that. We can bring a guest. It won’t cost you a thing as long we go together.”
I perk up, thrilled at the idea of getting back in shape. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to go with you.”
He grabs his glass of water and teases me, “You may change your mind about that when you see how much I sweat. My brother tells me I reek.”
I freeze, because that sounds pretty horrible. When I look at Haze, I realize he waiting with bated breath for me to tell him how disgusting that is.
I don’t fall for his carefully laid trap. Instead, I lean forward and tell him conspiratorially, “I think there is nothing in the world sexier than a big sweaty biker. You don’t have to worry about me getting grossed out. I might lose control and lick the sweat right off your skin.”
The face he makes is hilarious. “Now, you’re the one grossing me out. How did you even do that?”
“You’ve finally met your match and clearly don’t know what to make of it,” I tease him back.
Truthfully, I enjoy spending time with Haze. He has a bit of a quirky personality but I’m slowly growing a real liking for him. Being with someone who is playful and irreverent but has the capacity to get serious when needs be, is the perfect balance for a woman who was raised in a family of men with zero sense of humor.
Granted, they thought they were hilarious. They weren’t. My father and stepbrother most often made me the butt of their jokes. They’d make out that I was oversensitive, but it felt more like bullying at the time.
Not so with Haze. His humor is often self-effacing or situational. I never feel targeted by him in a cruel or disrespectful way. I smile at his shocked response when I gave it right back to him about sweating.
An image jumps into my mind of him covered in sweat, with all his tattoos glistening in the sunlight. Swallowing thickly, I realize that image is all too appealing. Once my brain is spinning on that visual, another one jumps into my mind. One of him naked in the shower with trails of water dripping down his magnificent form. My mouth goes dry, and I automatically reach for my drink. The cool water goes down smoothly. I glance away, embarrassed to be perving on him. I don’t know why I’m even worried about that. This handsome bastard clearly wants to be perved on after all.
Haze is all too perceptive. When I look back at him, he’s wearing a naughty smile. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you sweaty and breathless either.”
I laugh. “Who said anything about being breathless?”
He gives me a sexy smirk. “In my mind, you’re sweaty and breathless because I made you that way, not because we were exercising.”