His Old Lady - Debra Kayn Page 0,36

had an uncle, but he was serving a twenty-five-year sentence and wouldn't be released until she was thirty-three years old and seemed like she had a lifetime to go until she reached that age.

"Well, that must be nice to reconnect with someone close to you."

"Mm-hm." She raised her brows. "Do you think the others are going to want dinner?"

Angela shook her finger. "Nice change of subject and I'll let you get away with it tonight. But we're not done talking about Mr. Sexy and the way he looked at you."

She rolled her eyes, her stomach fluttering. "He wasn't looking at me."

"Girl, he totally was. I spotted him right away. He stood by the door and gazed at you as if he wanted to throw you over his knee and spank—"

"You're crazy." She walked out of the bathroom and raising her voice, said, "Who wants dinner?"

In the living room, Stephanie said, "Not me. I need to head home and stay with Jeff. My mom's due to work in an hour."

She stood behind the couch. Caught up in Angela's statement about Curley watching her, she half-listened to the other women's excuses for leaving. The only thing she seen in Curley's eyes was anger at her.

Helping the others gather their bags and making sure they understood what time to be at Kingston Bar tomorrow night, she walked with them out to the driveway and waved to them as they left.

She hadn't said anything to the others about her deal with Uncle Walker. While she would continue to work, she also had to face the fact that soon Curley could let her go at her uncle's request, and she would have to find another job.

The others would be okay. They enjoyed working topless and making more money.

As soon as they drove out of sight, she headed back to the house when a familiar rumble filled her neighborhood. Goosebumps broke out along her arms. While she waited, she gave in to pretending Curley was coming home and anxious to see her.

He rolled around the corner. An impressive sight.

The motorcycle an extension of himself, Curley leaned with the bike, commandeering the machine underneath him. His sunglasses hid his eyes, and she was thankful for that because she could pretend a little longer.

The evening sun glinted off one of the pendants hanging from a leather strip around his neck as a warning to her.

She raised her hand and shielded her eyes against the brightness. His presence intimidated her. She had no idea how to heal her heart after all his rejections.

At one time, there was so much love for her to give to someone else, and she'd picked him to have it all. Nobody else. It was always Curley.

Even when she was too young and only had a clue about love.

All those foreign feelings exploded inside of her until she'd worked up the courage to go to him. She'd planned to tell him her feelings and to ask him if he could ever see her as more than Uncle Walker's niece, and instead, he'd pulled her down on the bed and started touching her.

She'd thought his affection meant he loved her. God, she'd been so immature, mixing up drunkenness and passion.

Inhaling a trembling breath, she steeled herself to deal with him.

Curley stopped in the driveway and motioned for her. She hugged her middle and approached him.

He'd neglected his shaved head. There were short stubbles over his scalp. Usually, he kept it smooth, unless he'd gone on a ride.

"Lock up your house and come with me." He took off his sunglasses and hit her with his dark eyes.

"Why?"

His gaze never left her. "Why do you always have to question me?"

"Because I always end up disappointed," she snapped, feeling vulnerable after Angela brought Curley up to her, and she had to reminisce.

The last thing she wanted was her friends knowing the history between them, and what a fool she'd been to think he'd love her. She couldn't even use her age as an excuse for making a big mistake when her feelings for him had never changed through every fight and rejection she'd experienced since that day they had sex.

She knew it was best to move on, but her heart argued otherwise.

"I want to show you something," he said.

She studied him. He gave nothing away. Sitting his bike, his body remained hard and poised to ride off, making her wonder if she told him no he'd leave. Hating that she wanted him around and afraid he'd go without her,