Page 62 of Mace
The placehe takes me to is a small French-style bistro that I’ve walked past a hundred times. I’ve never ventured inside because it looks expensive, and that’s confirmed when he sits us at a table and hands me a menu.
The food isn’t fancy, but it comes with a higher price tag than I would usually pay. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I suggest.
“You don’t like the choices?”
“I do, but…” He stares at me, waiting for an answer, and I don’t know how to give him one without sounding pathetic. I disappear behind the menu, muttering, “Never mind.”
He uses a finger to push the menu down so he can see my face. “Talk to me.”
I nibble my bottom lip. “It’s just… it’s expensive here. We can go somewhere a little cheaper.”
“Maylie, order something to eat. I told you that you ain’t paying.”
The command in his voice is delivered in a way thatmakes heat spread through me.What is wrong with me? Why am I liking this?
“Fine, but next time, I’m treating you.” Shit. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like… I don’t want to assume… um… that we’ll go out again. I just mean that…” I break off, giving him a helpless look. “I’m not very good at this.”
“Breakfast?”
I don’t know how to answer that without making things worse, so I turn my attention to the menu.
My throat feels tight as I give the waitress my order and absently fiddle with a napkin. She flirts outrageously with him, and although he doesn’t give her anything back, doubts creep into my mind as she stares between us, as if trying to figure out how I’m with him.
Why is he here? What the heck is he getting out of this?I’m a disaster, and I have so much baggage, I don’t know how to even start dragging it behind me. If he knew half the things happening in my life, he’d run.
The waitress eyes me with open disdain that makes me shift in my seat. Even she knows Mace and I don’t run in the same circles.
Mace has probably been with loads of women. I’ve never even kissed a guy.
All my insecurities are laid bare in the blink of an eye while he delivers his order to the waitress. I’m bleeding out on the table, and he’s oblivious to the self-loathing scoring through me.
Most of the time, I feel like an imposter in my own life, but never more so than I do in this moment. Men like Mace don’t want girls like me. Even without the complication of my siblings, what the hell could I bring to a relationship?
But I may never experience breakfast with a man as handsome as Mace ever again, so I play the role, imagining this is just a normal day and that we get breakfast like this every morning.
When the waitress finally heads off with our order, I wish he’d just cancel the whole thing, but then he reaches across the table, his hand slipping over mine, and all my doubts are harpooned into oblivion. His touch is heated, and my body awakens to him. When I raise my gaze to his, his eyes are locked on mine. The waitress isn’t even an afterthought.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod, even though I’m not. My heart is racing like a steam train over the tracks. “I’m good. So, you know my story. What’s yours?” I ask. “How’d you get to be in a biker club?”
“My mum killed herself.”
My jaw almost unhinges itself. The candid response from him makes me suck in a breath. “Mace… I’m… I’m so sorry. Forget I asked.”
He picks up his mug and takes a drink of coffee. “It was a long time ago.”
I’m not sure it matters how long ago it was, losing a parent stays with you forever. It’s a wound that scores deeply and never fully heals.
“How old were you when it happened?” I should let this topic go, but suddenly, I want to know everything about him and how it shaped him into the man he is.
“Fifteen.”
My heart wrenches for him. He was so young to have lived through that. No wonder he’s so stern all the time. “That’s rough.”
“I was placed in foster care for about twelve months—just long enough for the club to get me out and put me with Maggie.” He smiles, a genuine smile that makes my stomach flutter. I’m not sure he realises how handsome he is when he’s not frowning or glaring.
“She took care of you?”