Curvy Temptation by C.L. Cruz

Chapter 4

Willow

“You’recomingwithme.”Rangerholdshishandouttowardmelikeheexpectsmetojusttakeit,butIdon’tevenreallyunderstandwhathe’soffering.

Instead, I press the handgun into his palm and collapse onto the bed, dropping my face into my hands. That was some scary shit. Not just Jeremy barging into my room, but pointing that gun at him and realizing that I would do it. If he’d taken one more step toward me, I would have shot him. And I hate that I was even put in that position.

That I put us—Max and me—in that position.

Ranger empties the chamber, removes the magazine, and puts the gun on the table by the window. Jeremy is still at his feet, blood dripping from his nose, knocked out. I can see him breathing, so I know he’s not dead. I squeeze my eyes closed, kind of wishing this would all just go away. That’s what I tell Max at night when he’s scared.

“Just close your eyes,” I tell him, stroking his back. “Everything will be better in the morning.”

But I’m an adult. I can’t just hide my face and hope for the best. Can I?

The bed shifts as Ranger sits beside me, and I feel his big palm on my back. Funny how a hand that dealt a blow powerful enough to knock a man out is now comforting me.

“You can’t stay here,” he says. “It’s not safe.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” I ask, tears springing into my eyes. “With you?”

“Yes.”

I laugh mirthlessly. “I don’t even know you.”

Just then, the door to the bathroom opens. I wipe hurriedly at my eyes and scoot over, putting space between Ranger and me, just as Max pokes his head out.

“Can I come out now?” he asks, his little voice filling the room. “Is it safe?”

It’s Ranger who answers. “Yes, bud, it’s safe.”

Max steps into the room, taking in the scene in front of him—Jeremy on the floor, the gun on the table, me sitting on the bed with a scary-looking dude. I expect him to freak out, but instead, he calmly says, “I never liked that guy. He made my belly hurt.”

Ranger nods solemnly. “Mine, too. It’s important to trust that feeling.”

“But Mom says we’re not supposed to hurt people just because we don’t like them.”

Sliding off the bed, Ranger crouches so he’s at eye-level with Max, who’s still standing just outside the bathroom, a couple of his Fortnite figurines clutched in his hands. “She’s right. But sometimes I have to do bad things to protect the people I care about.”

“Like my mom?”

“Like you and your mom.”

I’m frozen in place; this whole situation feels surreal. I’m obviously out of a job and a place to live, but there’s a sexy biker kneeling on my floor, talking to my kid with a kindness and patience that Max hasn’t seen from many men in his six years. And I think he might be offering me a place in his… what? His compound? His life?

Max, on the other hand, bravely steps forward to show Ranger his Fortnite toys, and before I know it, has dragged him over to the bin in his closet where he has the rest of his collection. He never did that with Jeremy. Apparently, he’s a better judge of people than I am. And if he can give Ranger a chance, then maybe I can, too.

Besides, what other option do I have at this point?

I stand up, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Okay,” I say, drawing Ranger’s attention to me.

“Okay?” I don’t miss how his dark eyes trail over my body, almost as intense as a touch. There’s definitely some tension between us that I think is more than the adrenaline from recent events. I can only hope my libido isn’t affecting my logic.

“We’ll go with you.” I look around the room. There isn’t much, but it’s all that we have. “I’ll need time to pack.”

He points to the cellphone in his hand. “My guys are already on the way to take care of it. Let’s walk down to the park a few blocks away while they get you packed and moved.” He looks down at Max. “Isn’t there an ice cream truck there?”

Max gives a little shout of excitement as he leaps to his feet. “Can I get two scoops?”

“Max…” I say warningly.

But despite his rough exterior, Ranger is apparently a softy at heart. “How about a triple?”

“Ranger!” I scold, but they both ignore me, walking out the door. I notice that Ranger puts himself between Max and Jeremy, even draping an arm protectively over my son’s shoulders.

Grabbing my purse, I hurry after them, but as I pass Jeremy, he gives a little groan and rolls over, his fingers brushing my sneakers. A van is pulling into an empty parking space in front of the room, two guys in leather vests in the front seat. Emboldened by the nearness of the club, I give Jeremy a good kick in the ribs. He groans, clutching his stomach.

“I quit, asshole,” I hiss at him.

“Mom!” Max scolds from the sidewalk. “You aren’t supposed to say that word.”

I step out of the room and smooth down my hair before taking his hand. “This is a special occasion.”

Twin Pines Community Park is just a few blocks away from the motel. Max has been begging to go, but I hadn’t found the time yet to take him. Ranger treats us each to a cone, and we take them to a bench by the playground to eat. Max makes a huge mess, but Ranger just laughs and helps him clean it up before turning him and his sugar high loose on the monkey bars.

“Max doesn’t get many treats,” I say, watching him hang upside down.

Ranger leans back, draping an arm over the back of the bench. His thumb just barely brushes my shoulder, the touch so light I wonder if he’s even aware of it. I know I am. I’m aware of every move this man makes, and just that simple touch has my heart racing.

“Neither do I,” Ranger admits. “But the temptation is always there. I have a serious sweet tooth.”

“You should treat yourself more often, then. Or are you too busy rescuing single moms from bad situations?”

He looks sideways at me, smirking. “You’re my first.”

I scoff. “I find that hard to believe.”

“The Raging Angels aren’t exactly known for their random acts of kindness.”

Maybe not, but Chastity sent me to them for a reason. And thank goodness she did. I have a feeling their reputation around Heathcliff isn’t quite what he thinks it is. Maybe they’re ruthless, sure, but I also think that, like he told Max, they do bad things for the people—or the town—that they care about.

“Be that as it may,” I say, shifting on the bench to face him, “you have to let me repay you. Maybe I can give this a trim.” Reaching across, I brush my fingers against his beard.

His hand darts up and grabs mine. “No one touches the beard.”

“Not even a licensed beautician?” I ask, noticing how he doesn’t let go of my hand but instead tucks it under his arm, holding it against his chest and lacing our fingers together.

“I haven’t trimmed it since I got my cut.”

“Why is that?” I ask. I hadn’t thought someone like him would be superstitious, but maybe it’s more sentimental.

“What’s a licensed beautician doing working at the Veridian?” he asks, redirecting the conversation.

“Just trying to survive,” I answer, following his lead. “I would love to work in a salon again, but I haven’t been able to scrounge together the money to rent a booth. Although my dream is to have my own place someday.”

Max darts by, chasing another kid in a rousing game of tag. He waves, and I wave back with my free hand. If he notices the two of us holding hands, he doesn’t say anything about it. He probably wouldn’t know what to make of it. His dad and I never held hands. He was vehemently opposed to public displays of affection, or any displays of affection, really. That isn’t the kind of relationship I want to model for my son. He needs a strong, male role model, someone who will teach him how to be respectful and responsible. Is it possible that I’ll find that for him in Ranger, the president of an outlaw MC?

“I admire that about you,” Ranger is saying. “How hard you’re working. You’re doing a great job, and you’re raising a great kid.”

My throat constricts and my chest tightens at his words. I can’t remember the last time someone told me I was doing a good job. I’ve been doing my best and constantly wondering if my best is enough. And suddenly, this stranger says a few words, and I'm overwhelmed with emotion.

“Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” I blubber, wiping the tears quickly off of my cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’s this?” Ranger pulls me across the bench, wrapping his arms around me and pressing my face to his shoulder. His beard tickles my ear, and I laugh gently through the tears.

“I’ve been trying so hard for so long,” I tell him. “I lie awake at night wondering how badly I’m fucking things up for Max. I feel like I’m failing all the time, so to hear someone say something nice, it’s just…” I trail off, trying to get control of myself.

“The only way you could fail him is by not being there for him,” Ranger says.

I remember what he told me earlier at the shooting range about his mom. Pulling back, I look up at him to thank him for his unexpected kindness, but I find my lips only a breath away from his. His unsettlingly deep eyes bore into me, making me feel naked and exposed. The hand that had been around my shoulders slides beneath my hair and grips the back of my neck.

“I’m going to kiss you, Willow,” he says, his voice a whisper, his breath ghosting across my cheek.

I grip his arm, holding on tight but knowing at the same time that he’ll be there to catch me if I fall. “Okay,” I whisper back with a jerky nod.

And then he does, his lips pressing against mine. His hand holds me in place, strong and steady. I part my lips and his tongue sweeps across them before plunging inside. At the sound of my involuntary moan, he gives a low growl that I feel more than hear. Warmth floods my body, and I know that if we weren’t in a public park surrounded by kids and families, I would let him have his way with me.

“Mom, watch this!”

I pull away breathlessly and turn to the playground, where Max is standing on top of the monkey bars looking ready to jump and inevitably break something.

“Max, no!” I start to stand but Ranger actually beats me to it, and before I know it, he’s pulling Max down and swinging him around. My son is laughing hysterically, clinging to Ranger’s leather vest, and I’m struck with the realization that this is the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time.

In fact, it’s the happiest I’ve felt in a long time, too.

I touch my lips and smile, standing as they head back my way. Max takes one of my hands, and Ranger and I swing him between us as we walk back to the motel, holding on tight the whole way.