I’m standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, lost in a daze when Chaos walks in. He’s looking fresh and chipper today as he does every morning. I don’t know how the man does it. I blame all the veggies and protein drinks I catch him chugging down time and again. He blames the habit on his many years of football practice and games. I think he likes it but doesn’t want to admit the fact since he gets teased about it. If anything, he should be proud that he still has such discipline even if he isn’t going to be playing in any pro football games ever again.
“Damn sweetheart, those smell real good. I could catch the scents of spicy cinnamon all the way on the other side of the compound. Save me one without frosting, please?”
“Of course. I always set a few plain off to the side for you, even though the frosting is the best part.”
The buzzer sounds, and I turn to pull the next batch out before answering him. I place the fresh buns on the counter and grab another cooking sheet full of rolled dough. Placing it in the oven, I hit the timer and spin back around.
“Damn, woman. How many cinnamon rolls are you making?” He gestures to the counter full of various cooling trays and I shrug, a touch sheepishly.
“I may have gotten carried away,” I admit, and he grins, looking ever so charming even when he’s just woken up and hasn’t had his coffee yet.
He goes for the steamy fresh Kona blend, favorite Patriot coffee cup already in his hand. “I reckon so. Any particular reason why you baked enough buns to last the brothers a week?” He fills his mug with the hot beverage, stirring in one scoop of sugar free sweetener before stepping back and giving me his attention again.
“So, question...did you happen to tell Viking that Mercy stopped by the club and that I would be upset over it?” No use sugar coating it. This is Chaos my best friend I’m talking to.
He shakes his head, carefully sipping from his drink. “No. You ought to know I wouldn’t betray your trust like that.” He blows the steam and the coffee smell spreads a bit headier in the air.
Shit, I’m an asshole. Of course, I can trust him, but how else would Viking have known about Mercy stopping at ththe club and being a bitch?
“I know that, but Viking caught me off guard earlier when I caught him in the bar. He actually brought it up to me.”
His brows shoot upwards, a low whistle floating through his beautifully white, straight teeth. They’re fake. I already asked long ago, and he admitted they’re implants. I guess a few got knocked out in his football playing days. That’s probably how most of the guys around here have such nice teeth—get one knocked out and boom, here’s a perfect implant.
“The Prez brought it up to you?”
I nod, fidgeting with the hem on my crop top. This paired with yoga pants in the morning is my go-to outfit unless it’s hotter than the depths of hell in midsummer. That season in the state of Texas calls for tank tops, shorts and bikinis—anything else is too damn much. That’s another reason why I try to go one runs regularly. I must fit in those little clothes, so I don’t sweat to death outside and end up melting or something to that effect.
“Well shit, sweetie. I’m gonna go with my first guess and say his boy Torch told him about it. They’re pretty fuckin’ close. These days, you’d almost think Torch and Odin were more BFFs than Torch and Viking. That entire dynamic is a little too full of testosterone with Nightmare, Torch, and Odin all being territorial when it comes to Viking. Anyhow, like I was saying, I wouldn’t put it past Torch to give the Prez a heads-up.”
“Torch overwhelms me,” I admit, blowing out a breath. It’s the truth, the man is crazy intimidating. I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed kittens for sport. How he has a daughter too, blows my mind. I feel sorry for the girl when she has her first crush—he’ll end up going missing.
Chaos smirks, amusement lighting his gaze as he takes another sip. “That’s his job, Cherry. Torch’s our Death Dealer; he’s supposed to be a mean, intimidating motherfucker.”
“Mission accomplished,” I mutter and Chaos full-out smiles.
“So back to the important part. Prez knows you were upset over Mercy and Odin?”
“I didn’t actually admit to it. He didn’t really ask...it was more of him stating it. He was all,I heard Mercy was here and you were upset. Don’t be, Odin knows you’re loyal and he’s soft on you. It shook me up first thing in the morning.”
“No shit? He actually said that?”
I nod and busy myself by piping the cream cheese frosting into snowflake looking designs on the tops of the almost cooled cinnamon rolls. It smells so good that my stomach rumbles. I think in another life I could’ve loved being a baker.
“Damn, that’s pretty much Viking saying he’s cool with you and Odin being so close. You should be fuckin’ happy about now, sweetheart.”
Setting the frosting bag down, my gaze meets his. “You don’t think he’ll tell me to leave?”
“No. You seem to forget who you were having this conversation with in the first place.” It hits me in my gut that’s he’s completely right. Chaos always has a certain way of making me notice things a little differently.
Viking was a member of another club—The Widow Makers—when he snuck his way in with the Nomads who belong to the Oath Keepers MC. He fell for and claimed the Oath Keeper OG president’s daughter—the club princess, aka Princess. Then Viking’s betrayal came to light and rather than him being put six feet under for it, he eventually became the president of this hybrid chapter. That was the situation in the condensed short and tidy version, but it’s the truth regardless how crazy it was when it was all happening. I’m over here nerve-wracked about Viking casting judgment and inflicting consequences when in reality, he’s probably the most open person on this compound when it comes to going for what you want. What you believe in.
“Damn,” I stammer. “You’re right. I didn’t even think about it like that. I was just too apprehensive about him being furious, about him telling me to get the hell out and to stay away from his younger brother.”
He shakes his head. “Nah. If something pisses him off, he’ll give it to you straight. That’s how he’s always been and one reason why I respect him so much—why we all do. The fact that he actually attempted to make you feel better says a lot.”
My eyes fill full of salty tears as womanly emotions overtake me and my heart feels a touch fuller. The president of the MC was offering me comforting words where his blood brother, who has my heart, is concerned.
Of course, Odin chooses that moment to saunter his sexy ass into the kitchen, catching me on the verge of dropping the fat tears down my cheeks. He notices them immediately, his gaze growing hostile, the anger inside overflowing as he pins his wrath on Chaos.