Minutes later Keenan returns, his expression dark and stormy. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes scan the square until they land on me. The tension in his shoulder is palpable, and his hurried steps portray a mix of anger and worry.
"Did she say anything to you?" he questions sharply, his voice low but taut like a wire stretched too thin.
I flinch at the intensity in his tone but force myself to meet his gaze. "She... she bought all the flowers and said... he would love them."
Keenan's face hardens further, his lips pressing into a thin line. He mutters something under his breath-words I couldn't catch but that sounded like a curse-and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Keenan," I venture cautiously, "who is she? What's going on?"
For a moment, it seems like he might answer but then he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. "Not here," he replies curtly before turning on his heel and striding off in the direction the woman had gone. I watch him leave, my heart pounding with unease.
Riya approaches me cautiously, her brows furrowing in concern. "What was that about?" she asks softly.
"I don't know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "But whoever that woman was...she rattled him."
Riya glances in the direction Keenan has gone in before turning back to me. "Did he say who she was? He looked... I don't know... scared."
"Scared?" I repeat the word feels foreign when applied to someone like Keenan. "He didn't seem scared to me. More like upset."
"Maybe both," Riya says thoughtfully. "Angry and scared can go hand in hand sometimes."
I nod slowly, her words sinking in as I try to place together what had just happened.
The warmth of the event now feels overshadowed by the mystery of the woman and Keenan's reaction to her. People laughed and chatted, oblivious to the tension that had just passed through my booth. But for me, the atmosphere had shifted.
When he returns later that evening, the storm in his expression has softened slightly, but there is still an edge of tension in his movements.
"Hey," he says softly as he approaches my booth. His voice is gentler now but carries an undercurrent of regret. "I'm sorry about earlier."
"It's okay," I reply hesitantly. "But I'd really like to know what's going on."
Keenan hesitates, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers before meeting my gaze again. "Later," he promises. "Maybe over dinner?."
I nod my head reluctantly, sensing that pushing him now would only cause him to retreat further. The idea of going to dinner with Keenan should have made my heart race but it's under the pretense of discovering who that woman was. As the event wound down, we packed the booth in silence. Riya returns with her usual curiosity barely veiled.
"Everything okay? You two seem a bit... tense," she remarks with a raised brow.
I smile, trying to brush it off. "Nothing to worry about... um, Keenan is gonna take me to dinner so I won't need a ride."
Riya nods, though her eyes linger on Keenan before she turns back to me. "Alright, if you say so. I'm gonna head home now. Have fun... and be careful."
"I will, I promise" I mutter as she hugs me. With that, she drives off, leaving us alone amidst the fading bustle of the square.
Keenan turns to me, his eyes serious but with a hint of warmth. "So, what do you say to Italian? I know a place that's got the best pasta in town."
I smile, feeling a slight sense of excitement mixed with trepidation. "Sounds perfect."
As we walk away from the square, the evening air feels charged with anticipation. The stars are beginning to twinkle overhead, and the world seems full of possibilities. But beneath the surface, I sense a storm brewing-one that would challenge everything I thought I knew about this town, about Keenan, and myself.
We walk in silence for a while, the only sound being the crunch of gravel beneath our feet. As we reach his bike, he hands me a helmet. "Hop on."
I pause for a moment before climbing onto the back of the bike. His warmth envelopes me as I wrap my arms around him, feeling the rumble of the engine beneath us. The ride is as exhilarating as before, the wind whipping through my locks under the helmet as we speed through the quiet streets.
When we finally pull up at the cozy little restaurant with warm, glowing windows and the enticing aroma of garlic and herbs wafting from the entrance, I feel a sense of relief wash over me.
Inside, the atmosphere is warm and intimate, with candles flickering on each table. It was truly romantic. Keenan leads me to a corner booth, his hand brushing against mine as we slide in. I feel my stomach tighten as I realize this is my first time going to dinner with a man, even under these circumstances.
As we order and wait for our food to arrive, we sit in comfortable silence. I occasionally glance in his direction, his eyes already intently on me like I'm a piece of art. Admiration and a hint of something else glisten in his eyes, causing me to look away, not being able to hold his gaze.
When our pasta arrives, we dig in, savoring the flavors. He was not kidding about this place having the best pasta in town. The rich aroma of tomato sauce and freshly grated Parmesan filled the air, momentarily pushing aside the tension and questions that had brought us here.
As we finish our meal, I can't help but bring up the earlier encounter. I wanted-no, needed- to know. "Keenan, what happened earlier? Who was that woman?"
Keenan's expression turns guarded, his eyes clouding over. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "She's... someone I work with... work for. But she's also someone from my past."
"Someone from your past?.. But you work with her?" I press, leaning forward. "What do you mean?" I furrow my brows, his vagueness is confusing me.
He hesitates, his gaze darting around the restaurant before settling back on me. "I shouldn't say too much... the less you know the better."
I feel a flicker of frustration. "Keenan, please. I need to know what's going on. Don't shut me out." I try to reason.
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I thought he might shut down completely. Then he leans in, his voice low. "Cougar... she's my ex and the... the head of the MC I work for."
The name sends a chill down my spine and a pain in my chest. "Y-your ex? And boss?" I frown slightly.
He nods slowly, his eyes intense. "Yes... But I promise you, she won't come near you again."
The conviction of his voice should have been reassuring but only raises more questions. I open my mouth to ask more, but Keenan reaches out, his hand covering mine on the table. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, momentarily silencing my thoughts.
"Trust me," he mutters softly, his thumb tracing small circles on my hand. "I'll tell you everything when I can. But for now, can I just...enjoy your company?'
His eyes hold mine, and I feel the air between us grow thick with unspoken tension. My heart races, torn between the desire for answers and the undeniable pull I feel towards him. Finally, I nod, allowing myself to relax into the warmth of his gaze.
It's then I realize that despite the questions and mysteries, I know deep down that I can trust him.