Mace (Untamed Sons MC: Birmingham Chapter #1)

16. Maylie

SIXTEEN

MAYLIE

The place he takes me to is a small French-style bistro that I’ve walked past a hundred times. I’ve never ventured inside because it looks expensive, and that’s confirmed when he sits us at a table and hands me a menu.

The food isn’t fancy, but it comes with a higher price tag than I would usually pay. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I suggest.

“You don’t like the choices?”

“I do, but…” He stares at me, waiting for an answer, and I don’t know how to give him one without sounding pathetic. I disappear behind the menu, muttering, “Never mind.”

He uses a finger to push the menu down so he can see my face. “Talk to me.”

I nibble my bottom lip. “It’s just… it’s expensive here. We can go somewhere a little cheaper.”

“Maylie, order something to eat. I told you that you ain’t paying.”

The command in his voice is delivered in a way that makes heat spread through me. What is wrong with me? Why am I liking this?

“Fine, but next time, I’m treating you.” Shit. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like… I don’t want to assume… um… that we’ll go out again. I just mean that…” I break off, giving him a helpless look. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Breakfast?”

I don’t know how to answer that without making things worse, so I turn my attention to the menu.

My throat feels tight as I give the waitress my order and absently fiddle with a napkin. She flirts outrageously with him, and although he doesn’t give her anything back, doubts creep into my mind as she stares between us, as if trying to figure out how I’m with him.

Why is he here? What the heck is he getting out of this? I’m a disaster, and I have so much baggage, I don’t know how to even start dragging it behind me. If he knew half the things happening in my life, he’d run.

The waitress eyes me with open disdain that makes me shift in my seat. Even she knows Mace and I don’t run in the same circles.

Mace has probably been with loads of women. I’ve never even kissed a guy.

All my insecurities are laid bare in the blink of an eye while he delivers his order to the waitress. I’m bleeding out on the table, and he’s oblivious to the self-loathing scoring through me.

Most of the time, I feel like an imposter in my own life, but never more so than I do in this moment. Men like Mace don’t want girls like me. Even without the complication of my siblings, what the hell could I bring to a relationship ?

But I may never experience breakfast with a man as handsome as Mace ever again, so I play the role, imagining this is just a normal day and that we get breakfast like this every morning.

When the waitress finally heads off with our order, I wish he’d just cancel the whole thing, but then he reaches across the table, his hand slipping over mine, and all my doubts are harpooned into oblivion. His touch is heated, and my body awakens to him. When I raise my gaze to his, his eyes are locked on mine. The waitress isn’t even an afterthought.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, even though I’m not. My heart is racing like a steam train over the tracks. “I’m good. So, you know my story. What’s yours?” I ask. “How’d you get to be in a biker club?”

“My mum killed herself.”

My jaw almost unhinges itself. The candid response from him makes me suck in a breath. “Mace… I’m… I’m so sorry. Forget I asked.”

He picks up his mug and takes a drink of coffee. “It was a long time ago.”

I’m not sure it matters how long ago it was, losing a parent stays with you forever. It’s a wound that scores deeply and never fully heals.

“How old were you when it happened?” I should let this topic go, but suddenly, I want to know everything about him and how it shaped him into the man he is.

“Fifteen.”

My heart wrenches for him. He was so young to have lived through that. No wonder he’s so stern all the time. “That’s rough. ”

“I was placed in foster care for about twelve months—just long enough for the club to get me out and put me with Maggie.” He smiles, a genuine smile that makes my stomach flutter. I’m not sure he realises how handsome he is when he’s not frowning or glaring.

“She took care of you?”

“Yeah. She saved me. I was with her until I was old enough to patch in to the Sons. My mother was haunted by her demons. She used drink and drugs to just get through each day. It was all I knew until I was placed with Maggie. She was so different, and I was a shithead. I didn’t know how to be parented, and I made things pretty hard for her for a while.”

Tears prick my eyes. “I’m sorry you went through that.” I wonder what demons his mother had.

“Some kids just lose the parent lottery,” he says. “Were you close with your mum?”

A smile creeps onto my face as memories flood my mind. “Yeah, I was. She was the best. It was rough losing her, though towards the end, it felt almost like a relief to let her go. She was in so much pain and just a shell of the person she was.”

The waitress stops at our table, sliding two plates down. Her gaze wanders over Mace again like he’s a prime cut of meat, and I swear she thrusts out her boobs a little more.

I don’t blame her desperation to get noticed by him, even if I don’t like it.

Mace barely looks at her, muttering “Thank you” as he hands me cutlery wrapped in a napkin. As our fingers scrape over each other’s, a flutter works through my body, and the way his eyes darken makes everything but him disappear. What do I care if the waitress is prettier, with better boobs than me? Mace isn’t looking at her. He’s magnetised to me.

I’ve never felt this much of a connection to anyone before. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. Dating and all the stuff that goes with it has never been something I had time for. And I have to admit I like the way it feels to have someone like Mace take an interest, even if it’s not real.

“Thank you.” The waitress scarpers off, and I’m alone with Mace again. My heart starts to race as warmth spreads through me. “And thank you for breakfast. It’s been a long time since I last did something that wasn’t work or teen drama.”

“Then I’m glad I could give this to you.”

Oh. There is that surge again inside me. At this rate, I’m going to combust before we’ve even started eating. I pick up my fork, digging in. The food is delicious, and the moment it hits my tongue, I let out a moan. Mace freezes, his eyes lifting to me, and again, that darkened look comes over him.

“Babe, you’re testing my resolve right now.”

What does that mean? Habit has me apologising, even though I’m not sure what for. “Sorry. It just tastes so good. I had no idea scrambled eggs could be this amazing. They sure aren’t like my scrambled eggs. Well, if you ask Toby, he’ll tell you I burn everything just ever so slightly. Not enough to be inedible, but just enough that it doesn’t quite taste right. Not that he’s a good cook—he’s more interested in playing his games—but I still think he’s better than me…” I trail off, realising that Mace is staring at me. “Sorry. I tend to ramble quite a lot. ”

“You apologise more than you ramble,” he notes.

“I guess I’m just full of failings,” I say with a smile to take some of the sting out of the meaning.

He puts down his fork, steepling his fingers on the table as he stares at me. “I don’t see failings, Maylie. I see a young, competent woman who is selfless and kind. I see a woman struggling to make ends meet and who is willing to sacrifice to keep her family together. I see you .”

Those three words hit me like a bucket of ice. I don’t want to be seen, because if he truly sees me, he won’t think any of those things. I’m not competent. I’m failing in every way imaginable.

Despite those thoughts rolling through my head, I force a smile, plastering it on my face thicker than the makeup I wear for work. “Well, that’s terrifying.”

I push my food around with my fork, suddenly no longer hungry. Everything about my life is a front, a lie designed to make people believe things are not as bad as they are. For some reason, sharing that lie with Mace and letting him believe it sits in my gut like a rock.

“You don’t agree?” he asks.

I place my fork on the plate. “No, I don’t. You see what you think I am, Mace.”

“And who’s that?”

“A really good actress.” His brows come together. “I’m not kind or selfless. I’m sure as fuck not a hero. Every moment of my life is spent in turmoil because I swing between knowing this is the right thing to do and feeling this abject sadness that my life has never been mine. Even before my mother died, there was years of doctor appointments, chemo sessions, hospital admissions, all while taking care of my brother and sister and trying to juggle school, which I failed spectacularly, by the way.

“I didn’t get to have a life, and you sitting there looking at me as if I have done this amazing thing… it’s not true. I wouldn’t change what I did, but I hate that I’m not the normal twenty-two-year-old girl, out there trying to find myself. I resent my mum for dying at times, and that’s the most evil thing I’ve ever thought, but it’s true. I wish she hadn’t left us. I wish I didn’t have to be a parent when my life was supposed to be starting. I shouldn’t be worried about paying the rent or if Toby is succeeding in school. I should be going for coffee with my friends, holidays to shitty party places, or… dating .” I say that last part quietly.

Again, I don’t know why I opened up to him like this. I’ve never expressed any of this to anyone. Not even Bella, who is the closest thing to a friend I have.

He’s going to look at me differently after saying this, but I couldn’t keep my silence and let him believe I’m some sort of saint. Given the choice, this is not the path I would have walked.

He leans back in his chair, scrunching up his napkin before tossing it on his almost empty plate. “So, you think because you have these feelings, that makes you a bad person? Do you know how angry I was at my mother for most of my life? I hated her for what she did, for choosing addiction over me. I hated that she wasn’t the mother I needed her to be. You’re not a bad person for wishing things were different, Maylie, but you are a good one for stepping up despite those feelings.”

Tears choke the back of my throat. No one has ever truly acknowledged me in this way before. Maybe he does see me .

I swear, when he looks at me, it’s as if he’s staring into my soul. And it feels exposing.

“So, knowing all that, can I convince you to change your mind about letting me dance? I wouldn’t take shifts from any of the girls who already work the stage, but if you could just throw me a couple of nights each week, I would really appreciate it.”

He leans back in his chair, draping his elbow over the back of the one next to him. It makes my heart stutter. How does he make that look so good? “Do you want to work the stage? Take your clothes off for strangers?”

No. It’s the last thing I want to do, but paying Bernie what I owe him is no longer my main objective—protecting Ivy is. If I’m going to get my sister away from Link, I need money so we can start over somewhere else. Toby won’t like being pulled out of school and moved away from his friends, but I’m really not seeing any choice. Link has proven he is going to do anything to keep me out of their relationship, and that terrifies me. I don’t know what he’s capable of, but I don’t need to. My imagination is running wild enough.

“I don’t think anyone chooses to take their clothes off for money, Mace.”

“I can’t let you on stage, Maylie.”

“Okay.” Disappointment floods me, and not because I want to do it but because it was my way out. Although trying to convince Ivy to come with me might result in me having to kidnap her.

Maybe I can get a job during the daytime before my shift starts at Temptation. It won’t leave much time to be around for Toby, but at least I can save enough to start over somewhere else .

Suddenly, I really want to be done with breakfast and this conversation. I already feel like a failure without my shortcomings staring me in the face.

I stand, pinning that smile that is becoming automatic on my face. “Thank you for breakfast, but I need to get back. I need to grab some milk on the way before Toby dies of hunger.”

Mace rises with me, and I can tell he’s not happy. Neither am I. It was nice to pretend for even just a short moment that my life was normal and not spiralling out of control, but this isn’t reality. And denial will not fix anything.

“Maylie, wait,” he says as I turn and rush out of the bistro.

I don’t. I can’t let him see me like this because I’m pretty sure I’m about to have an emotional breakdown. I have spent so much time being strong, and now, everything is falling apart, including me. I’ve never felt as helpless and as alone as I do right now.

Ducking my head, I rush out into the street, the cooler air hitting my face as I pull my jacket around my body. I move surprisingly fast, wanting desperately to escape everything.

The weight of my responsibilities, the uselessness I feel about my sister’s situation, and the fear it might put my brother in danger, all presses down on my shoulders heavily.

What was I thinking bringing Mace into any of this?

He doesn’t need my baggage. He already has his own trauma to deal with. I hate that loathing and worthlessness spread over me. This isn’t me. I’m not the depressed, sad girl. I’m Maylie, the baker of brownies with a quick smile and joke.

No, that’s who I want everyone to think I am.

The truth is, that version of me is as fake as the wig I pull onto my head every time I step behind the bar.

I barely make it around the corner of the street before a hand grips my arm and I’m spun around to face him. I try to free myself, but Mace’s fingers are iron bands around me.

“I don’t care what the fuck happens between us, you don’t run from me,” he growls.

“I can’t do this. You shouldn’t want to do this either. Getting involved with me is a bad idea, Mace. I have the ability to find problems wherever I go. You deserve better. Hell, I deserve better, but I’m fucking cursed. If you have any sense, you’ll run far and fast.”

The emotions on his face are hard to read, but his hand cups the back of my neck in a move similar to what Steve does to Bella. My heart had fluttered every time he did it, but Mace’s big palm wrapped around my nape has my pulse jack-knifing against my ribs. “I’m not going fuckin’ anywhere.”

Before I can say a word, his head descends, and he presses his mouth to mine.

Mace is kissing me .

Mace. Is. Kissing. Me .

My heart leaps in my chest, pounding a frantic beat as his mouth claims mine. I have dreamt often of how my first kiss would be, and it was nothing like this. This is so much better than I could have ever thought about in my wildest of imaginings .

His big hand cups around the back of my neck, holding me in place so he can deepen our kiss, and when his tongue slides along the seam of my mouth, I part my lips to let him in.

I’ve seen plenty of kissing on TV and in movies, so I know enough to have a vague idea of what I need to do, but nothing could have prepared me for the way my body tingles and heat pools in my belly. I have never felt as alive as I do in this moment, and all I want to do is keep kissing him.

Heat spreads along my skin everywhere he’s touching me, and my body craves something from him I don’t understand. I need him to keep kissing me, to keep wanting me, even if it is only for this brief moment.

My world narrows to him, everything around us fading to blackness as his tongue caresses mine. The warmth spreading through my body is addictive, and I crave more of it, even as I know I shouldn’t allow myself to get in too deep. This can’t last. We can never be more than this kiss, than this moment, but I take it for what it is, and I allow myself to sink into the deliciousness of every touch of his mouth to mine.

When we break apart, his eyes are molten and I’m breathless.

“I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

My gaze snaps up of its own volition, and I’m sure I’m wearing a goofy look on my face. “You have?” I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to kiss me. “Why?” The word blurts out before I can stop it.

He frowns at me. “You’re beautiful, Maylie, inside and out. You’re too fuckin’ good for any man.” His hands cup my face and heat spirals through my body as my gaze is forced to meet his. “I want to kiss you again.”

I should say no, I should tell him that my chaotic life means at some point I’ll be leaving Birmingham, but I want him to kiss me again. I want to have this moment of normality. I want to be the girl who gets the guy, even if it’s just this once.

I peer up at him, both enthralled and afraid of the way he’s looking at me. It’s a look that says he has zero intention of letting me walk away from him again… but that won’t be his decision.

“Okay,” I murmur, uncaring that we’re in the middle of the street and people are seeing this tall, incredibly hot biker kissing me.

His hand still wrapped around the back of my neck, his mouth locks to mine, brushing softly over my lips. My heart leaps, and my body warms from the inside out.

Even if I don’t get to date again until my brother is eighteen, I will replay this moment over and over in my head for the rest of my life.

He pulls back with a reluctance I don’t expect. My lungs heave with the exertion of our make-out session, and every cell in my body feels alive. Disappointment slides through me because I know this can’t be a repeat performance.

Just because of that fact, I risk placing my hands against his chest, feeling the hard edges of his sculpted muscles beneath my palms. His shirt does little to disguise that the man is built.

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows draw together. “I don’t think anyone’s ever thanked me for kissing them. And you don’t have to thank me. It was just as fuckin’ enjoyable for me, and I plan on doing this at every opportunity.”

He leans forward as if he’s going to claim my mouth again, but I move back, which heightens the frown.

“Did I misread the situation?” he asks. There is no censure in his words, but he seems upset that he might have done something that perhaps I didn’t want.

“No. That was the single best moment of my life, Mace, but it can’t happen again.”

The lines on his forehead deepen. “I’m a little lost, sweetheart.”

I can’t blame him for that. I’m not sure I’m making sense. “This is a ‘me’ problem, not a ‘you’ problem. And at any other time, this would’ve been everything I wanted and more, but my life is so messy right now, Mace. I need to concentrate on that.”

His head tilts to the side, and I get distracted by the ink on his neck. “Messy how?”

This is not something I want to get into with him. He doesn’t deserve to be drawn into the dangerous shit I’m facing. “You just have to trust me on that.”

“I’ll walk you back.”

“You don’t have to.”

“My bike’s outside your place.”

Of course, it is. How did I forget that? “Oh. Then I guess it makes sense for us to walk together.”

I fall in beside him as we turn back in the direction of the flat. For a moment, he says nothing, then he speaks. “You know, I can help you with whatever is going on, right?”

He says that, but he has no idea just how dangerous Link is. My arm burns beneath my sleeve, reminding me of the way he—and Ivy—had both attacked me.

“I know, but I have it handled.”

It’s an outright lie, but I tell it anyway.

As we approach the flat, my stomach sinks. In a moment, the dream I just experienced will fade and normal life will resume. I’m not sure I want to go back to that, but what choice do I have?

“Thank you for breakfast.”

He stops walking, and I do the same, waiting as he seems to gather his thoughts. I’m not sure what he’s going to say, but he blows out a breath. “I’ll see you at work.”

I keep my smile in place despite the disappointment threading through me. He’s only doing what I asked, and yet, I wish things could be different.

“Right. Bye, Mace.”

I give him a lingering look before I head into the building, not stopping until I’m safely inside the flat and behind the door. Only then do I realise I never got the fucking milk.