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The gurgling sound of being underwater should have been soothing. It was anything but because like a dumbass, I’d agreed to race Mickayla. To keep it ‘fair’ she’d insisted on doing the backstroke while I swam freestyle. I was very close to the wall, but not close enough since I saw her execute a perfect flip turn. She wiggled her legs like a mermaid as she headed in the opposite direction.

If I wasn’t going to hell already, I damn sure would be now because that visual had me desperate to fuck her. But that wasn’t happening any time soon since we were at a public pool.

I needed to convince Mom to take a mini-vacation.

I’d never mastered the flip turn, so after tagging the wall, I turned around and used my feet to push off the wall. By the time I got back, Mickayla was stretching her shoulders.

“Thought you said the backstroke was your worst event,” I said, pulling off the goggles she’d loaned me.

She smiled. “It is, but I got lucky with my flip. Usually that’s where I get hung up.”

I waded closer to her lane and lowered my voice. “I want to see you flip turn in bed, baby. You look just like a mermaid.”

She tilted her head and shot me a coy smile. “Is that a fantasy, too? Being with a mermaid in addition to Mrs. Claus?”

I smirked. “Probably. Everything about you is a fantasy.”

She smiled outright and like clockwork, it hit me in my gut.

God, I loved her smile.

More than that, I loved her. I’d been down to hide this to protect my patch and keep the peace in the club, but to my gut I knew one thing. No matter what it cost me, I intended to claim her. There was no one else as perfect for me.

Being with her showed me this love was different. Not anything like what my parents had. They loved each other, but hardly ever showed it. The way Mom had grieved Dad’s death, she clearly loved him far more than their lack of physical affection indicated.

When I first saw their ‘retirement’ home, I wondered why Dad had it designed that way. He’d once said it was so they could engage in their hobbies without bothering each other. For Dad, he might have retired, but his hobby turned out to be consulting with other car dealers.

The distance between my parents never made sense to me…even after Dad retired, it was like they weren’t friends but rather two people who were together because it was expected of them.

That wasn’t what I wanted for myself. It was partly what drew me to the Riot over twenty years ago. Not only did the men openly show they loved their women, but everyone was part of the family. Until I patched in, I had only experienced that close-knit sense of family with Brandy. Even better, not one of my brothers had asked about my finances. Not even Punc, when he saw my parents’ place.

“You always surprise me when you get sweet,” Mickayla said, pulling me from my thoughts.

I chuckled. “That wasn’t me being sweet, Mick.”

She gave me a wry smile. “Nobody has ever said I’m a fantasy, so it is from where I’m swimming.”

“Are you shitting me?” Mickayla said thirty minutes later when we stepped out of the aquatic center and into the parking lot.

“Shit,” I whispered.

Ricochet appeared to be resting a hip on the hood of her Corolla. He straightened as we approached, but kept his arms crossed.

Mickayla picked up her pace, but I wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep her from storming to her brother.

“Cool it, wild child,” I said.

“Easy for you to say,” she said glancing up at me with pure fire in her blue eyes.

I gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Do your damnedest to stay calm.”

Once we drew near to him, Ricochet dropped his arms.

Mickayla spoke before he could. “This isn’t—”

Ricochet shook his head. “Don’t lie to me. If his bike or his truck were here, I could maybe see this as a meet-up, but I’m not stupid.”

“What I was going to say is that it isn’t your business,” Mickayla said.