It taunts me, burning my throat as I watch her across the room as she laughs and drinks with the other girls. She’s fallen right into place in the clubhouse, sliding in like a puzzle piece that no one knew was missing until she arrived.
I keep my eyes on her. I haven’t been able to pull them away since I sat down. She’s the opposite of every other woman here. She’s a messy bun where they’re blow-dried waves. She’s teasing every man in the room with the yoga pants she always wears, whereas the others are dressed to impress in short skirts and high heels.
Frowning when I finally notice Molly’s wearing a skirt shorter than usual is the only time my eyes even stray from her. Candi and Molly didn’t give the three new girls flitting around a second glance, and they sure as fuck aren’t interested in the action going on two cushions down. She’s my only damn focus, and the smile on her face as she sings and dances with my sister and Vixen is the only thing keeping my ass rooted to the couch cushion.
I want to smile at her playfulness. I enjoy seeing her have a good time, but then I catch the tremble in her lip every once in a while, and I know it’s all a show. The other girls are having fun, so she pretends to be doing the same.
Her eyes don’t catch mine. She doesn’t look in my direction, but I know she knows I’m here. The only blessing, I guess, is that she didn’t leave when I walked into the room, which she’s done a dozen times over the last two days. She’s freezing me out, and I’m letting it happen. I don’t reach for her when she brushes past. I don’t carry her to a room and insist that we work things out. I wouldn’t even know where to start with all of that shit. No taller than five foot four and maybe a hundred and fifteen pounds, and she’s done what no other person walking this planet has been able to do.
She scares me.
The thought of her leaving terrifies me.
The idea that one day I’ll wake up and she’ll be gone is enough for me to lose my appetite.
So I wait, and I watch, building the courage to do exactly what I know needs to be done. Fuck warning all of my men away from her. I need to claim her, to make her mine.
“Not interested,” I snap when some chick walks up and tries to sit in my lap.
“But baby.” I could snap the finger she runs down my chest without asking permission first.
“Come here, baby.” TJ, well aware that I’m a ticking fucking bomb, pulls her away.
“I want to fuck the president,” she whines as my brother settles on the sofa beside me.
“Shut her the fuck up, or she’s gone,” I warn, feeling agitated at just hearing her fucking voice.
“I got just the thing,” TJ assures me. A second later I hear his zipper.
“You look like a whipped dog,” Briar says as he settles on the couch cushion on my other side and hands me a glass of whiskey.
I’d punch him in the nose if I didn’t know it was true. I still might, just because he’s verbally pointing it out. Why can’t the man just leave me alone?
“He seems to be settling in.”
Briar tilts his head in Ronan’s direction. The guy is reclined back on a barstool with a girl on either side of him. A new prospect, some kid whose name I can’t remember, is trying to keep up with orders behind the bar. I’m glad Ronan is close by, ready to step in if needed, even though as a patched member he’s no longer required to do that type of grunt work. He’s also keeping a low profile. I haven’t caught him trying to look at Candi once since we got off the road two days ago.
“I never had any doubt,” I mutter.
“I wanted to update you on a few things,” Briar begins, “but it can wait for church.”
“You can tell me now.” I look at TJ, and he covers the girl’s ears. She moans even louder. It’s like nails on a damn chalkboard.
“Parker,” Briar says.
“Who?”
“The guy from the trap house in Detroit.”
The one you didn’t kill after he watched you and TJ kill those guys in Detroit last month, goes unsaid. It’s been a thorn in his side since he found out about it. He’s worried the guy is going to turn on us.
“Go on.” My pulse kicks up a notch, and I don’t know if it’s from the anticipation of what trouble Briar is about to mention, or the sight of Candi’s slender neck as she tosses back a shot.
“He’s tripled profit.”
“I knew he would.” The kid has a hell of a head for business.