Page 57

The last thing Kid wanted was to be interrupted when he had alone time with Carrie. Considering they no longer lived under the same roof, he imagined there would be few moments like this again. He’d savor them while they lasted.

“That’d be great,” he said without taking his eyes off the woman who lived rent-free in his head.

“I appreciate you doing this,” she said as she lowered her chin in a sheepish expression.

“Anytime.” As far as Kid was concerned, covering up a horrendous tattoo was the least he could offer her.

A nervous chuckle escaped her. “Well, let’s hope there isn’t much call for this kind of favor again.”

“There won’t be,” he assured her quickly.

Her head snapped upward, and their gazes met. A nervousness he hadn’t seen in months had returned to her eyes and pinched his heart. He didn’t like seeing that again.

“I promise.” He reached over the counter for her hands.

She stepped closer and allowed him to take them.

“We may not be—” He stopped himself, unsure how to describe their arrangement. “A thing, but I gave your brother and you my word that I would protect you. I meant it. I may be an asshole, but I mean what I say. That didn’t end just because I moved into the clubhouse. Your safety is my priority. Until you tell me to fuck off, you’re under my protection. No one will ever touch you like that again.”

Carrie’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.

Kid held her gaze firmly. He needed her to understand how serious he was. Under no uncertain terms was she to doubt that he would watch over her. Little was important to him. His family, his club, and Carrie. Not necessarily in that order, but that was all that mattered to him.

“This is intense,” she whispered.

He bowed his head, released her slowly, and stepped away from her. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she assured him. “I appreciate everything you have done for me. Really. I don’t think I could ever repay you.”

He peered at her in confusion. “I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“I know, but…”

He stepped around the counter and closed the distance between them. She couldn’t be more than five foot three inches tall. He towered over her. “No buts,” he said, hoping his smile put her at ease. “You don’t owe me anything.”

As Carrie rapidly blinked her eyes, Kid noticed the tears she seemed desperate not to shed. Before she could do it, he reached up and used the pad of his thumb to wipe them away.

“I have a strict no crying policy in my studio,” he joked. “You’d be surprised how many bald, badass bikers come in here and sob like babies the moment my needle touches their skin.”

Lines creased at the corners of her mouth as she let out a brief chuckle. The heavy emotional cloud that had burdened the room evaporated with her laugh. He loved the sound of it.

“Come on.” He stepped away and waved for her to follow him. “I got three designs for you to choose from.”

35

Carrie

Butterflies had taken up residency in Carrie’s chest and gut while she rode the emotional roller coaster of being in Kid’s presence. She had no business experiencing anything but comfortable and friendly around him. Getting attached was the opposite of her plan.

But… when he looked at her, she couldn’t help it. Passion and compassion filled his eyes. She felt precious with the way he gingerly moved around her—purposeful and careful. The heavily tattooed man with the shaggy hair and the well-worn leather vest declaring his status as the vice president of a criminal biker club contrasted with the tenderness he showed her.

And only her.

She’d seen him interact with other people. He was short—almost rude. There was no interest in fraternizing. He barely spared them a passing glance, let alone his attention. Was that because of what they’d been through or because of the promise he’d made to her brother?

Did the reason matter?

Pushing the complicated thoughts from her mind, she focused on the designs he’d placed on the counter for her. Various floral designs with bright colors, some with more ivy accents than others, were laid out for her review. “They’re beautiful.”