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Even though he gave me a curious look, I didn’t say anything else on the matter. Not only were my future plans not out in the open yet, but by then we had walked into the clubhouse, and I was frozen on the spot.
Because my gaze immediately went to the woman I’d been dreaming about and yearning for since I rushed out of her apartment. Somehow Emery, my woman, was sitting in the clubhouse. It took a moment for me to take in more of the scene and my hackles immediately went up.
And that’s how I put my foot in my mouth and found out the amazing artist I was just talking about is the same woman that I want to claim and put on the back of my bike. I knew the art looked familiar, but I hadn’t had nearly enough time to study the few pictures she showed me when I wasn’t busy burying my cock deep inside of her.
Fucking sue me.
As I move closer to the table where my woman is sitting with an older woman and three leaders of the club, it’s hard not to start throwing punches. It doesn’t matter to me that they’re all happily committed to their women.
They’re way too fucking close to mine.
I grab a chair from a nearby table and plant it so close to Emery’s that it’s almost fucking on top of her. Even if it were, that wouldn’t be close enough for me. Fuck, I’m tempted to forget about the chair, pick her up, and plop her down on my lap.
From the fire in her gaze when she cuts her eyes in my direction, that would not be a good idea.
Or it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.
“You need me Prez?” Loot’s voice comes from right over my shoulder as I settle next to my woman, but I don’t bother looking back at him. Lucifer shakes his head and I expect Loot to move on, but he doesn’t. “You good, Em?”
My vision goes a little hazy with red hot anger, but I clench my fists and grind my molars together to stop myself from beating the hell out the man. He’s just looking out for someone he knows; someone he thinks highly of.
Hell, for all I know they’re friends. And, fuck, if that doesn’t make my stomach churn.
“I’m good, Loot,” her voice is strained as she looks over at him with a forced smile on her lips.
If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make her smile. A real one.
The red dissipates slightly when she uses his road name instead of his given name. That shit is sacred for us. It’s why I gave her my name the first night we met; not that she would understand the weight of that one thing. Hell, she probably thinks it’s a small thing.
It isn’t.
Before my brothers can fill me in on what’s going on, I lean into my woman’s ear and murmur, “Ink, I’m going to get filled in on what’s happening and then we’re going to talk.”
“No,” Emery’s voice has an edge of panic in it before she spits out, “I don’t think we have anything to talk about Kade.”
My brothers still and not just the ones at the table with me. They know the importance of what just happened and what it means. Lucifer catches my eye and gives me a small nod of acknowledgement.
As much as I want to press my luck with my woman, I know now isn’t the time. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try again before she walks out of the clubhouse.
It doesn’t take long for Lucifer and Emery’s aunt to fill me in on why they’ve come to see us this evening. What is surprising is how intently Apostle is hovering over the older woman. Then there’s the way Dot’s eyes keep straying whenever one of my brothers moves through the room.
When she’s done explaining about who Jennifer is and her history, we lapse into silence for a moment before Dot gives Apostle an appraising look before landing the same on one Prodigal, Lucifer, and myself.
Her voice is loud enough to carry when she asks, “Have you ever considered a male review show? You know like those Magic Mike dancers?” My jaw hits the fucking floor and I’m not the only one. Emery’s face starts to turn a delicious shade of pink while Sioux lets out peels of uncontrollable laughter. Dot simply shrugs a shoulder like she didn’t just objectify a group of large, and sometimes violent, bikers. “At the very least you should do some sort of charity calendar. Maybe you could help the children’s hospital,” she suggests with a twinkle in her eye that goes against the innocence in her voice like she really is just trying to be helpful.
“Aunt Dot,” groans my woman, but the way she’s fighting a smile has my heart pounding in my chest.
I swear my woman is even more beautiful now than she was three months ago. An ache starts in the middle of my chest because I’ve missed her so fucking much.
Trust me, I’m aware of how fucking off the wall that sounds. But I can’t bring myself to care.
Considering everything—my dangerous job, the biker lifestyle, Dad’s death—I learned a long time ago to not discount my gut and to not assume tomorrow is guaranteed. My gut has been screaming at me that Emery is the one for me since she caught my attention that night at the bar. And it’s been pounding that truth home every single moment since.
My only regret is not making sure I had a way to reach her and running from her place without considering her. Now that I’m sitting next to her, with the way she’s trying to lean away from me, that regret becomes even more stark.
“We’ll have to take that to the table the next time we meet for Church,” Lucifer offers.
How the man can keep a straight face while he does it, I’ll never fucking know.
