with Ariana. That was by Stella’s request. He hasn’t quite figured out why yet only that whatever the reason, Ariana seems to be just a little less tense about the situation. Marcus has reported that she seems to be genuinely opening to the process of recovery and not just going through the motions because she thinks someone expects it of her.
Good for her.
He sips the surprisingly bland coffee from the mug and continues watching Ariana through the window. She and Marcus are in the backyard again. Pilates or whatever the cool kids wanna call it these days. He makes a mental note of finding out though because fucking damn did she look phenomenal moving from pose to pose.
Cock, meet your new best friend.
Shit. Where the fuck did that come from? Has it been that long since he’d gotten laid?
He looks down into the steaming mug as if to make sure it’s really coffee he’s sipping. The thought of his last fuck makes him shove the mug across the table altogether. Isabella Romano.
He looks back out the window and finds Ariana watching him. She tilts her head and then gives him a wave. Call him giddy as his sour mood perks and he waves back like a kid in a schoolyard.
What the fuck is that shit?
He pockets his hand just as quick as he’d waved to her and turns his back away from the window. More for him than for her. He won’t be able to make progress with her if he’s standing there gawking at her every move and smiling like a kid in a candy shop each time she smiles at him.
Her smiles are never real though. There’s always sadness and guardedness behind them but she forges them anyway. Because she thinks it’s what’s expected of her. He’s never been the savior of damsels in distress but God help him, that’s exactly what he’s wanted to do since that moment he’d touched her in that club. He wanted nothing more than to see what this dying flower could bloom into.
He unbuttons his top button, heads to the couch to settle in, and calms his nerves. He’s a patient man but time is running out. They may not have to make an official announcement to the world about any impending arrangement but they can’t let the Romanos take control of their business either. No fucking way.
The sound of conversation sweeps into the room with the breeze of the open door.
“It’s time we talk,” he tells her when their eyes connect. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t drawn to her.
Marcus gives her an encouraging nod before turning on his heel and heads back out of the door. Marcus already knew this was happening today. He’d said she could handle it but also gave him a list of signs of what to watch out for. Signs that she’s being pushed too hard.
“Have a seat,” he says with a gesture to the same chair she sat in before. “Wherever you’re comfortable,” he says after reconsidering things. He didn’t want this to seem like an interrogation.
She hesitates for a second and looks around the room at her choices.
He smiles.
She’s starting to realize she has choices. She’s starting to believe that she doesn’t immediately have to do what she’s told to do. But after a minute she resigns and takes the original seat he suggested anyway. It’s just logical. It puts her farthest away yet be across from him for a conversation to take place.
“I’m not sure how much of their business you were involved in,” he starts. “But you mentioned having met some of their associates…their partners and friends.”
She nods.
“Can we discuss that?” he asks. She wasn’t going to have a choice in this though.
She nods again.
“I don’t need to know the details of what happened between you and these men,” he says. His hand tightens into a fist and he moves it out of sight. “But I do need to know anything that you might have heard being discussed with them.”
“Okay. I’m ready,” she answers without her usual stutter. Good girl. “Where do you want to start?” she asks.
“You know they want to use our resources to make some kind of deal,” he starts. “The details of that deal have come through. A motorcycle club. I need to know about this crew.”
“Yes,” she replies. “Reapers Motorcycle club. I’ve met some of them…at Eden.”
“We don’t deal with crews like this,” he informs her. He doesn’t even understand why he does so. He