Heath glanced up, his brown eyes flashing, but quickly looked back to his shoes. Like it was too challenging to hold my gaze.
But he’d done what I asked. Thinking back to his exchange with Blade in the office upstairs, I couldn’t help but wonder… What if it wasn’t a question?
“Heath,” I said in a low, firm voice. “Look at me.”
Just as I’d hoped, his gaze snapped up to meet mine. His brown eyes were a little wide, unsure, like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing.
Like he was waiting for more direction.
Arousal curled sudden and hot in my gut. So my instincts had been right. He wasn’t just a pretty face and a cute ass—he responded beautifully to the slightest order. Like my voice was drawing something out of him he hadn’t realized was there.
As much as I wanted to follow this development, now wasn’t the time, nor the place. I wasn’t here for my own desires. I was here as the vice president of the Liberty Crew, and I was here to repair the relationship between our two clubs. Messing around with their newest member when he clearly didn’t realize what I was doing—or likely what he was doing—was not going to help.
“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?” I extended my hand for a shake. “I’m Dante. Vice president of Liberty Crew. I own the bakery in Junee, Stella’s.”
To my surprise, Heath accepted the handshake without much hesitation. “Heath,” he said. “Or—the Kid.”
His hand was so small it nearly disappeared into mine. That sparked a powerful protective urge in me, interwoven with a thread of desire. He peered up at me, brown eyes peeking through his long lashes. God, I wanted to take him apart and find all the other ways his body fit with mine. As our gazes met, his lips parted the barest amount.
Then, as if he realized what he was doing, he snapped his jaw closed and pulled his hand from mine. “Nice to meet you.”
“The tag suits you,” I said.
Heath gave me a look, like he was waiting for me to crack a joke about his age, or his appearance.
I wasn’t being facetious, though. I had no interest in teasing him. The handle did suit him, with his youthful appearance and sharp edge of attitude. Even though the spark I felt for him couldn’t go anywhere—not while I was working with Hell’s Ankhor, and not while Heath was so tense around me—I still wanted him to open up to me, and be comfortable around me, and I knew that poking fun at him was not the way to go about that.
“Thanks,” Heath said after a moment, and rubbed the back of his neck like he was a little embarrassed. “Did you want to, uh” —he gestured around the gym— “look around, or anything?”
“If you don’t mind,” I said. “I’ll be spending a fair bit of time down here, I figure.”
“We usually train here, or in the backyard if the weather’s good,” Heath said.
“You’ve got mats?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Heath said. “They’re in the closet next to the locker room. Do you want—” He hurried over to the closet.
“No, no,” I said, even though the sight of him eagerly pursuing a task for my benefit doubled the spark of heat in my gut. “Just wanted to make sure you had them. And there’s enough space down here?”
“It’s tight, but it works,” Heath said. He glanced at me like he was waiting for something. Acknowledgment? Approval?
I nodded as I paced the length of the space, getting a feel for how big it was. Yeah, this would work, as long as we kept the trainings on the small side. I was glad to see the heavy bag, too—I was already sketching out lessons in my mind, maybe bringing Tru in to demonstrate defensive kicks and blocks for the smaller members that couldn’t rely on brute force strength alone. “This’ll work well.”
“Okay,” Heath said. Some of the tension eased in his shoulders, but he wasn’t anywhere close to comfortable. “Uh, was there anything else you wanted to see?”
“Well, I’m supposed to be giving some of your brothers baking lessons,” I said. “Mind letting me check out the kitchen a little closer?”
“Sure.” Heath led the way up the stairs, back into the kitchen.
The guys had finished their breakfast and cleared out—the muffins had been decimated. The big, open main floor of the clubhouse felt suddenly quiet without the rest of the Hell’s Ankhor members talking and laughing. Heath gestured toward the kitchen, giving me the go-ahead, and then leaned against the island.
Lucky for me, and for the baking lessons, it was a big kitchen with modern, functional appliances. The gas range had six burners, and two ovens were built-in, stacked on top of each other, both with convection settings that I was certain were never used. There was a vast amount of counter space, even excluding the island. This was a kitchen that saw a lot of action; even if they weren’t making anything complicated, they were clearly used to making big meals.
From what I could tell, the only thing I’d need to bring from my own stash were my knives. And that was simply because I was picky.
Heath cleared his throat. I looked up, and he was watching me intently, lips pressed together. “Everything look okay?”
“Looks great,” I said. “Just getting my bearings here.”
“Okay,” Heath said. “I’m, uh… sorry. About all of this.”
“About what?” I said, glancing over my shoulder at him as I poked through their pantry.
“Having to make amends for something you didn’t do,” Heath said. “I’m sure it’s a pain.”
I turned around and leaned against the counter, taking a good look at Heath. Even with the kitchen island between us, Heath seemed affected by my gaze, going a little fidgety under it.
“It’s not a pain,” I said seriously, even though there were dozens of other things I could be doing with my time. “The behavior of my members—ex-members—is my responsibility. And after what they did, I half-expected Blade to boot the whole Crew out of Hell’s Ankhor territory.”
Heath looked like he was about to argue on Blade’s behalf. I held up a hand, because I wasn’t done speaking, and Heath closed his mouth.
Interesting. He was so responsive, even to the gestures I did unconsciously. I needed to keep a tight rein on my own behaviors and not let this get out of hand without either of us realizing.
“As far as reparations go, it could be a lot worse,” I said. “I get to train and bake. Two things I love to do, and things I’d be doing anyway. And now, there’s the added benefit of tightening the relationship between our two clubs. I don’t really see a downside, honestly.”
A slow, careful smile spread on Heath’s face. A really lovely smile—his cheeks dimpled, his brown eyes shrank to crescents. He was gorgeous when he wasn’t so closed off. I was already hungry to see what other expressions I could coax from him.
And fuck. Watching Heath smile, knowing I couldn’t make that smile mine—well, I was beginning to see the downside.
6
Heath
The next morning, I had the day off work at the shop, and only one class ahead of me in the mid-afternoon. I was grateful for the quiet of the clubhouse—most of the members were busy with the day’s tasks already, working, enforcement, or errands. Only Raven was in the clubhouse now, stretched out on the couch with his laptop open, typing away.