Page 169 of Wretched Love

Page List


Font:  

Swiss noticed that. Not a shock since he noticed everything about me. But he didn’t push, didn’t acknowledge it. He just proved to me, every day, that the other shoe wasn’t going to drop. There would be no impact. No crumbling.

Sure, there were speed bumps with the club. Dangers lurking in every corner, a new police chief promising not to be as amiable as the last. There were things to be concerned about. But nothing to scare me. Not truly.

Things were going well. Beyond well.

Except there had been a series of murders in and around the area. Murders of young women who were not at all connected to the club.

Naturally, all of the men were on high alert, even more protective than normal, which was pretty fucking protective.

Not that I minded.

It meant I got to see more of my husband.

Whenever I worked late at the restaurant, he was there. Normally, he was there anyway, but when he wasn’t, there was a prospect to drive behind me. Now there were no prospects, just my husband. And he made a habit of fucking me in the kitchen after everyone had gone home.

So I didn’t hate it.

Declan was growing like a freaking weed. He was just like his father, full of mischief and energy and already a little badass. It was his first birthday, so we’d planned a party. Anything, large or small, was reason for a party.

Which I loved.

I adored that our garden was full of bikers and their children, jumping in and out of the pool. That laughter, music, and children’s voices filtered through the desert.

I didn’t expect anything unusual when I walked into my kitchen. At first, I thought I was hallucinating.

But I was not.

Elden and my daughter were in my kitchen, too close to one another for it to be anything casual.

Intensely, intimately close to one another. They weren’t making out or anything. But by that point, I was an expert in the romantic body language of the alpha male biker variety.

He had his palm flat on the wall beside her. His body was not touching hers, but his cut was brushing against the white sundress she was wearing. His mouth was inches from hers.

The second I walked in, his Spidey-senses went off, and he took two very large steps backward.

Violet’s cheeks were flushed red, and her chest was rising and falling visibly. Her wide eyes found me.

I looked to Elden who was the picture of badass, cold calculation.

“Tell me I did not just see what I think I saw,” I said slowly.

“Mom—”

I held my finger up to silence Violet, all of my focus on Elden. Despite me being a part of the club for over two years now, he was the one who still remained a mystery, distant, aloof and cold. I’d even forged a connection with Hades, for goodness’ sakes. But not this tall, bearded man who was my age and kept mostly to himself.

“You know, if I tell my husband what I just saw… things are not going to go well. I’m going to get blood on my floor,” I said to him. “And I don’t want to have to mop it up. I’ve got a toddler… I have enough to worry about, you know?”

“Mom—” Violet tried again.

I held my finger up once more.

“I’m going to forget I saw all of this.” I waved my hand between my daughter and the biker who was at the least fifteen years her senior. “Because I don’t want my husband killing his brother today. And also because I don’t want to have to mop up blood. Then again, Swiss isn’t exactly one to force household duties on me, so he’d probably mop it up,” I mused.

Elden was still silent.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“And I know I’m married to kind of a depraved badass who has somewhat of a reputation, but when it comes to her,” I pointed my finger at Violet, “I can get pretty fucking depraved, buddy. So just remember that.”


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance