Page 99 of The Price of Love

It’s almost six, and I’m only fifteen minutes out from the Steel Graces’ clubhouse. The last half hour, my palms have been sweating. It’s not normal to be summoned to the clubhouse on Sunday night, but Wiz made it clear I had no choice. I’d tried to negotiate a different day, but she’d been insistent that I stop by on my way home from dropping off the girls at Margot’s. Since I go right through Saratoga Springs, I couldn’t budge her.

Until my phone call from Wiz this morning, it’d been a wonderful weekend. I missed Storm, but my heart was full spending time with my girls. At least I’d gotten the chance to talk to Storm last night after Leah and Nora had gone to bed.

My stomach’s been tied in knots all day, and during the forty-five-minute drive from Albany, I did everything short of calling Storm to distract myself. I couldn’t risk reaching out to her since she’d pick up that something was wrong. It’s amazing how well she reads me already.

Despite my best efforts, I can’t keep the negative thoughts from rolling around in my head. What if Wiz found out I’m hanging out with Storm? How could she?

Ugh. I haveta focus on something other than Wiz, or I’m going to drive into the ditch.

Storm. Her face fills my mind, and I smile. Last weekend turned out nothing like I expected, but in most ways, it was better. The disturbance Frost caused at Casino Night and Dimples being injured wasn’t, but the rest was.

I’m not naïve. Storm’s reputation precedes her. She’s popular with the ladies, and why wouldn’t she be? She’s adorable. Her intense brown eyes and mop of hair are so damned sexy, as is her hard body, and then add the twinge of danger, and she’s irresistible.

I’d gone into the weekend with eyes wide open. It’d been a long time since I shared a bed with anyone and even longer since I’d had an orgasm at anyone else’s hand. Before Storm picked me up, I’d given myself permission to give in to my body’s desires.

Apparently, Storm hadn’t gotten the memo. Perhaps it would’ve turned out different had Dimples not gotten hurt. But nothing happened once we got back to Storm’s room. No, that’s not true. Something happened—we snuggled, and I woke up in the morning with Storm holding me.

Granted, it’d been late once Dimples convinced Storm to stop fretting over her and go to bed. If I hadn’t been there, I doubt Storm would have left Dimples’ care to Jazmin. I felt guilty until Dimples smiled at me and asked me to drag Storm’s ass out of her room so she could get some sleep.

It was after two when we climbed into bed. I’d been prepared for Storm to paw at me, wanting a quick release after the adrenaline surge we’d had earlier. Instead, she pulled me close, so my head rested on her chest, and then she started talking.

I’m not sure why I was surprised. We’ve talked every night since we met. Like our phone calls, we started by recapping our day, which led to processing what happened at the lodge. Then the conversation shifted to being in bed together. My heart warmed at her emotional honesty and openness, and it made me want to do the same.

We decided, together, that we didn’t want to have urgent, hurried sex when we were emotionally and physically exhausted. Once decided, my body relaxed against hers, and I could enjoy being there in her arms.

I chuckle to myself. While my heart and mind approved of the decision, the rest of my body still hasn’t forgiven me.

Thinking about Storm was just the distraction I needed. By the time I pull into the Steel Graces’ parking lot, my nerves have settled. I hop out of my car and take a deep breath. There are several bikes in the lot. Of course there are. Sunday night is popular with the Graces. I can do this. My time with Margot taught me how to keep a blank expression and give nothing away.

When I walk into the clubhouse, it’s loud and full. With a quick scan of the room, I spot Wiz sitting alone at the bar. My eyes widen when I get closer. A highball glass with amber liquid in the bottom sits in front of Wiz. She may have a beer, but I’ve never seen her drink anything stronger.

I stroll up behind her. “Rough week?” I say, hoping the joke will land.

Wiz turns, and her eyes are puffy as if she’s gotten little sleep. True to my promise to myself, I keep my reaction from my face.

“What are you drinking?” Wiz asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Wiz picks up her drink and downs it. She sets the glass on the bar and slides it across the top.

The prospect is there as soon as Wiz releases it. “Would you like more?”

Wiz eyes the glass but then shakes her head. “No, I’m good.” She stands and begins walking away. She calls over her shoulder, “Come with me.”

I follow her to her office. Nothing is out of place. Controlled—just like Wiz. Other than the professional photos of the club on the wall, it could be a corporate office. Nothing that speaks to the person who occupies the space.

The desktop is uncluttered. Her laptop is closed and pushed off to the corner. There’s a small notepad embossed with the Graces’ logo, a fountain pen, and a manila envelope.

She motions me to one of the plush leather chairs in front of her desk before she takes her seat behind it. I sit with my knees pressed together and my hands crossed in my lap. If I swing my legs, I’d look like a kid sitting in the principal’s office. I keep my body steady, even though I’m itching to fidget.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you in.”

I nod. “Yes, President.” Formality seems the best way to respond.

It seems to annoy her as anger flashes in her eyes.

Shit. It’s not smart to antagonize Wiz. I give her a half smile, hoping it’ll ease the tension.