“Thanks.” She smiles and goes back to her menu. I watch her for a few moments, observing how she scans the menu, her eyes moving over each word as she weighs up her options. I take note how the slight dip in her chin deepens as she moves her lips, mouthing each word, and the way her tongue pokes out after a few words. I take it all in and realize I’m sitting here, staring, getting lost in the way she is reading a menu and I know I’m fucked.
I, Jesse Carter, am fucked.
“Text messages, stalking and now staring. I think I need a restraining order, Mr. Carter.” Bell looks up, catching me.
“Well, by all means, sweetheart, but I must warn you, I don’t think it would help.” I sit back and make myself comfortable. “Which would be a problem. I’m too good-looking for jail.” Her eyes light up at my challenge but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she watches me closely, running her eyes over my face. I know I’m laying it on thick, but it’s the way I am. Never one to take life seriously, I patiently wait for her to come back with something funny. “You can’t deny it, can you?” I whisper, watching the dimple on the left side of her cheek deepen as we lock eyes. I cock a brow.
“Fine, you’re right, you’re too pretty. I’ll let it slide this time, but watch it, friend ,” she says, and I don’t miss her tone on the word friend. I don’t give a fuck how she sees it, how she thinks it’s going to be. At this stage, I’ll take her any way I can get her.
And fuck it if that makes me a goner.
I’m already lost. What’s the point in fighting it?
“So let me get this straight. You were a firefighter, a Marine, and now you’re a biker?” She sounds sleepy asking her question. I know I should probably end the call, but it’s becoming the best part of my day when we talk over the phone late at night. It’s been a week since I had dinner with Bell. A week of trying every day to get away to see her, but I haven’t had the chance. Between Liquid and the club, I’ve been stretched thin. Which is why I’ve been calling every night.
“Yeah, I told you this last week,” I tell her, remembering the conversation we had about my past over dinner at the Happy Chef. The one time I’ve ever talked about why I was no longer a firefighter.
“You did?” She shuffles and I know she’s sitting up.
“You’re beginning to forget our talks, Bell. What am I going to do with you?” I tease, hoping to change the subject. I don’t want to talk about something that plagues me constantly.
“What about you? Did you always want to be a nurse?”
“Not really. It’s something Paige wanted to do.” I catch the sadness in her voice and it twists something in me. I wish whatever feelers we have out there, would hurry up and fucking give us something. Jackson and even T’s men are all on it, but so far we’ve got nothing.
“So you decided to be a nurse for your sister?” I push, wanting to know more and more about her.
“I guess. I didn’t think about it. I had to decide and I wanted to do something to remember her. For my mom and dad to be proud,” she answers, and it hits me like a punch to the stomach. Bell and I are somewhat alike. Doing things to please our parents.
“Do you regret it?”
“Regret what?” she asks, not understanding.
“Doing something you didn’t want to do, just to please your parents?”
“I don’t know. I think sometimes I wonder what I would have done if Paige never went missing, but then I realize there’s no point in wondering. I just have to move forward the best I can.”
“Are you really though? Moving forward?” I find myself asking. After everything we have talked about, I’m not sure Bell really is moving forward.
“I guess I am, but I don’t like change. I don’t want to worry my family. I feel…” she trails off, searching for the right word.
“Lost?” I ask, liking the more I talk to her, the more I get her.
“Yeah, lost. I don’t always, but sometimes I wonder what if. Do you? What if things never happened the way they did?”
“All the time, sweetheart. But you still have to live your life.”
“Yeah, true.” She yawns and I know it’s time to hang up. As much as I don’t want to end our conversation, we both have work tomorrow.
“Okay, Bell, I’ve gotta go to sleep now.”
“Okay Jesse,” she says and it makes me smile. Jesus, I’m fucking pussy whipped without getting the pussy.
“Night,” I say and wait for her reply.
“Night,” she replies before hanging up. I flick the bedside lamp off and let my eyes drift shut, hoping again tonight, I won’t dream about bombs and fucking dying. Instead, a dream of a cute brunette who likes to suck cock would do the trick.
Ten BELL
“Someone help me,” a deep voice shouts down the corridor, echoing off the walls of the hospital.
Standing from the desk, I step out and peek my head around the corner. “My fiancée is in labor,” a man holding his very pregnant fiancée, who looks to be in the throes of a deep contraction, shouts out. He looks familiar, but my eyes refocus on the woman.
“Here,” I call, getting his attention.
“The baby is coming, now.” He moves toward me as I rush for a wheelchair and meet them halfway.
“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask when he places her in the chair.