Now that I’m coming off of the spike in my adrenaline, thinking there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to protect Chevelle in a room full of that many men, I’m livid. She never should’ve been put in that position in the first place. Who the fuck do these jokers think they are, coming heavy at her like that? She’s one fucking woman for heaven’s sake!
I see the Prez’s point, not wanting to attack right this minute to retaliate. At the same time, I’m with Nightmare. I never want Chevelle to be frightened again. She may have put up a brave front, but I felt her trembling next to me on those stairs when we watched those filthy dicks shoot the cop. I know she thinks she’s strong, and to a point she is, but this is too much for her. She’s a rough woman, trying to make a good life for herself, and if it wasn’t for these fuckers, she’d be doing just that.
Her hold on my ribs loosens as I pull my Harley to a stop at the compound. Dropping the kickstand, I swing my leg over my seat and then grip her waist to help her off too. She’s more than able to do it on her own, but I can’t stop myself from touching her. Placing my arm over her shoulder, I tuck her into my larger frame, and we walk together inside. “You okay, sweetie?”
She sighs, her dark hair floating out of her face as the air conditioner hits us crossing the threshold. “There’s no way I can fix the track in time for Saturday, and I have to race. I don’t like leaving my cars there without me, either.”
“No, you don’t. Besides, it’s not safe right now. As for your cars, I already told you, the brothers will bring them here for you.”
Golden embers burn in her irises as they meet mine. She’s wound tight, ready to argue with me. “Yes, I do. I told you that’s how I pay the mortgage for The Pit. I can’t afford to miss a chance to win, but I also don’t have the cash for what it’ll take to fix everything in time. I’m screwed.”
Releasing her, she turns her body my direction. My hand reaches up, and my thumb trails over her bottom lip then along the curve of her jaw. She’s upset, and I don’t know what to do with a woman who’s melancholy. Pissed off, yes...turned on, yes...hungry, yes...but not like this.
“I’ll fix it,” I promise before thinking it through.
“Thank you, cupcake, but you’re already letting me take over your space and time to help keep me safe.”
I shrug. “It’s no big deal.”
When my hand drops away, she leans forward, placing a tender, chaste kiss on my mouth. It’s so insignificant that it means way more than any touch she’s shown me since we’ve met. It’s tender. Nothing is coaxed or heated about it. It’s full of real feelings.
“It is to me. Not many men come around who give a shit; they all want something in return.”
“I’ll fix it,” I repeat. This time I know exactly what I’m saying, and I mean it one hundred percent.
She offers a sweet smile, so non-Chevelle like. I think the craziness has her a bit shaken up. Whatever it is, I have to keep my guard up because kisses and smiles like those will have a man falling all over his own two feet. They’re the type that’ll have a man planning his future out.
We’re interrupted by Blaze. He’s back behind the bar, polishing the top until each bit shines. “Merc, everyone okay?”
“Hey, brother. Yes, they made it through okay.”
“Thank God.” He releases a heavy breath, and I tug Chevelle with me to sit on the stools in front of him.
“You here with Princess?” He’s Vikings cousin and the Prez’s ol’ lady’s personal guard. After the stories I’ve heard about what she’s gone through, can’t say I blame him for putting a steady man with her all the time.
“Yeah, you know with their past, Viking told her what was going down. Prez doesn’t keep anything from her anymore to keep her safe. Anyhow, she gets worried about shit like this and she starts cooking like crazy.”
“Cooking?” I cock an eyebrow as he gestures to his beer. Chevelle and I both nod, wanting a cold drink.
He grabs two longnecks, pops the tops and places them in front of us on coasters. “The first time shit went down with her, she’d been making a bunch of food to welcome the brothers home off a run. She and Vike were barely fucking back then. Anyhow, shit hit the fan, and it’s been a way to ease her anxiety since then.”
“Hard to imagine P having any sort of anxiety.”
He nods. “She does and pretty badly when shit like this goes down. Probably a bit of PTSD mixed in with it too. She’s really good at bluffing. We better drop it. If Viking catches any of this convo, we’ll be missing skin for it.”
With a chuckle, I throw back a hefty gulp. “You hungry, Chevy?”
“I could go help,” she offers.
“You don’t cook,” I reply, puzzled.
Blaze smiles at her warmly. “Go on back there, darlin’. Princess will be happy for the company. Take your beer, and I’ll fix a pitcher of frozen Margaritas.”
“Margaritas?”
He nods, his smile growing. “Yeah, trust me, it’s a P thing.”
I press a kiss to her temple and point in the direction of the kitchen.