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FINN
We’re in the lounge.
Keep her there.
Declan and I are coming in the back.
She doesn’t need to see this.
Stepping into the backdoor of the club, we immediately bump into Conor.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Conor exclaims. “And why the fuck didn’t you invite me?”
“I need to clean up before she sees me. Make sure the boys keep her up front,” I instruct. “And Con, we go nowhere alone. Someone is by her side at all times.”
He gives a quick solemn nod before heading to join them in the lounge while I take a quick shower.
CHAPTER FORTY
LAYLA
“I trust you’ve taken good care of her?” Tristan’s voice fills the bar. Spinning on my stool, I find him in a different set of clothes with damp hair.
“Did you shower?” I ask with a hint of confusion in my voice.
“I fucking hate the smell of hospitals.” He turns me back to face the bar and wraps his arms around me from behind.
“They took real good care of me,” I taunt. “Liam used about twenty different paddles on me, and Finn was talking about chasing me through the woods of Central Park.”
“Is that so?” Tristan teasingly snarls against my ear, as he tightens his grip on me both of his brothers quickly negate my allegations.
I try to hold my laughter as I watch them backpedal, but it’s futile.
“That little brat in you wants to cause trouble today, I see.” I feel Tristan smile against my cheek.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” Liam huffs. “I do not need to get the bloody snot beat out of me as part of your fucking foreplay.”
Looking down, I notice the fresh cut on Tristan’s knuckle. I rub my finger against it, and he grabs my hand. He gives it a soft, reassuring squeeze and places a chaste kiss against my cheekbone.
My phone buzzes on the counter before me. Tristan reads the screen over my shoulder, and there is no denying his displeasure. “Jorge?”
“Oh, shit!” I exclaim. “I forgot we were supposed to be meeting for lunch today.
“Did you ask for permission?” Tristan’s voice is gruff in my ear.
“Seriously?” I huff. “Are you jealous?”
“Do I need to be?” His tone remains serious and harbors a tinge of jealousy as he swipes open my phone and reads the message.
JORGE
Where are you, sweetie?
Not helping Jorge…
“He’d be significantly more interested in fucking the four of you than he would me,” I laugh.
“Stay here.” His tone lightens, and he hands me back the phone. “I’ll order in some lunch, and you can show him around the club while I go over a few things with my brothers. When we’re all done, I’ll take you home.”
