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“What the fuck is your problem, brother,” Loot spits before he looks back over at me as I sit stiffly and refuse to look back in Kade’s direction. “Oh,” he holds out that one word, “I get it.” I glance in their direction and glare at Loot, but all he does is flash me a grin and cross his arms over his chest. “Emery is an amazing tattoo artist. She just finished that back piece not long ago.”
Understanding washes over Kade’s features and then he’s looking over at me with huge puppy dog eyes. And with the aquamarine color of his eyes already, I’m practically melting. Which is bad. Very fucking bad.
I straighten my spine and look at Lucifer with expectation. Thankfully, he doesn’t take offense. At least, I hope he doesn’t and the smile on his face tells me I’m good.
But then he calls out, “Driller, come on over here.”
It takes everything in me not to sink down into my chair and slide right under the table.
The need becomes even worse when Aunt Dot leans toward me with a sly grin on her face. If she’s trying to whisper, she’s doing a shit job of it as she says, “Please tell me you took him for a ride. And I’m not talking about on his bike.”
The men all bark out laughs, but the only thing I can do is close my eyes and hope that when I open them again that I’m anywhere but in the DSMC clubhouse.
CHAPTER 6
KADE “DRILLER”
The last few days since going to see my mom and sisters, I’ve been calling around to tattoo shops, searching social media, and driving by some shops. I hadn’t been able to find my woman and I was getting frustrated.
When I pulled up at the clubhouse tonight, Loot was dismounting his bike and waited on me. I held up a hand in greeting because I wasn’t going to put my problems on my brother. Still, it was hard not to lash out at him. I needed an outlet for my feelings and was thinking about asking our Treasurer if he’d be interested in doing a round with me in the ring.
The gym we have in the clubhouse is big enough for everyone to work out in without needing to go to the gym the club owns, Sinner’s Gym. Sometimes you need to see more than your brothers working out and we all have memberships to Sinner’s. I just wasn’t in the mood to be hit on by women; it would only make my frustration grow.
“Glad to have you back on dry land,” Loot greeted me once I dismounted my bike.
I grinned at him, but I wasn’t really feeling it. “Good to be back,” I forced out. With a sigh, I admitted, “I’m damn glad I’m taking off a little more time this go round.”
His eyes were assessing as he looked at me and I was afraid he’d see far more than I wanted him to. “You good, brother? Like really good?”
“Fuck,” I muttered. When he continued to stare at me, I ran a hand over my face and admitted, “Last shore leave, I met someone at Sanctuary. No,” I shook my head, “not just someone. My someone. Took her back to her place,” I refused to go into more detail, but the smile on Loot’s face still grew, “then I had to leave the next morning quickly when I got a call from the rig because someone was injured.”
“Aw, fuck man,” Loot’s smile fell, his tone was far too knowing. “Tell me you left a note.”
“I fucking wish I could,” I admitted.
Loot nodded; his face was grim as I ran a hand down my face. The whole thing felt like it was looming over me, and I needed a distraction, a break.
While there was a time when I probably would have walked into the clubhouse and blown off steam with one of the club angels, that held zero fucking appeal for me now after being with Emery. My dick didn’t even perk up over the last few days since I’ve come home, and the angels tried to show off their assets and entice me.
There was no way I was going down that road.
I shook out my hands and searched for something, anything, to stop the thoughts of defeat swirling through my head. “Did you end up finishing up that back piece?”
Loot fucking lit up and didn’t hesitate to strip off his cut and then pull off his shirt to show me the art he had done. He told me a while ago that he had found a new artist to work on him. As I stared at the tribute to his past and future on his skin, I was speechless for a moment.
There was something familiar about the art too, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
“It’s beautiful, man,” I whispered, a note of reverence in my voice.
“Right? Fucking killed it, brother,” he agreed with me.
“I’d love to meet the artist who inked that for you,” I prompted him.
Anyone who could do the kind of work I was looking at was someone I wanted to meet to pick their brain and talk shop. Hell, if I could ever open a shop for the club, I’d want to try and get them to join me.
“Need to get you shoreside permanently, brother,” Loot told me. “The shop they’re working out of doesn’t do their talent justice at all. The boss is an asshole too.”
I nodded as Loot covered up the beautiful piece and shrugged his cut back in place. “Working on it,” I admitted.
