“Yeah, well, after all that stalking shit…” Hope said, jaw getting tight.
“What stalking…” I started, but was cut off by Brooks asking everyone what toppings they wanted on their pizza.
Sure, I’d bought a bunch of shit at the store. And Gracie had some stuff cooking in the kitchen, but there were always too many people to cook for in one small kitchen. So they were ordering from all the local places in town, and everyone would have a buffet.
It was the main reason I was sticking around.
And, I mean, there was also the sliver of hope that Theo was going to show up.
Though, yeah, I knew I shouldn’t be holding my breath on that one.
Hell, if nothing else, it was just going to be a nice night. And I’d get to meet the seemingly somewhat famous Kit and Ria.
“Anxious to meet them, huh?” Gracie asked a while later when she was finally satisfied with how the clubhouse looked.
“What?”
“You keep looking at the door,” she informed me, making me wince inwardly at being so damn obvious.
“Oh, right, yeah, well color me curious. I don’t think I’ve even seen pictures of them.”
“Well, they’re both stunning,” Gracie insisted.
And, of course, she was right.
They were both gorgeous in their very unique ways.
Katherine, who absolutely no one called by that name, was tall and on the thinner side with somewhat sharp facial features, blue eyes, very pale skin made to look even paler with her black and lace gothic-inspired number, and long light purple hair.
“Oooh, I haven’t seen this color on you yet,” Gracie said as she smiled at Kit.
“It’s a nod to my mom’s dark purple,” Kit told them.
Ria was a few feet to the side, talking to Layna.
Ria, like Kit, was tall. But she was less straight up-and-down, having a little more curve to her, darker skin, an oval face with slightly softer features, golden-brown eyes, and long black hair pulled into thick twists. She didn’t seem to share Kit’s gothic sort of dressed-up style, choosing instead to wear a simple cream shirt that slid off one of her shoulders, and high-waisted black slacks with a statement belt.
“Does it feel weird to be back?” Gracie asked.
“So much is pretty much the same,” Kit said as her gaze slid around. “Except for some of the people, I guess.”
“This is Dezi,” Layna said, moving in at my side, wrapping one arm around my waist, and the other one patting my stomach. “He’s half Golden Retriever and half rabid pitbull. Dezi, Kit and Ria. And… crap, is that…” she went one, looking past the girls and toward the door that was sliding open, hoping it wasn’t Vi already.
But it wasn’t Vi.
It wasn’t even any of the other girls club members or the guys showing up to see what was going on.
No.
It was fucking Theo walking in the door, holding a little plastic case full of colorful drink umbrellas in her hand.
And, fuck, if she wasn’t a sight for sore eyes in her faux leather skirt that was just this side of mini, showing off her long legs, a black tank under a lightweight leather jacket that her long, dark hair was trapped inside, with her signature heavily-lined eyes and red lipstick.
She looked like she belonged in a biker clubhouse.
She even seemed comfortable with it.
Sure, maybe you could attribute that to the fact that she was obviously really comfortable behind a bar, around all kinds of unsavory characters. But I got the feeling it was deeper than that, that she somehow had some sort of experience with outlaw bike clubs.
She didn’t even give any of the guys a second glance.
“Oh!” Gracie said, brightening. “Did you order the umbrellas to get dropped off?” she asked, beaming at me for the supposed thoughtfulness.
“Ah, Dezi just asked me to bring them by,” Theo said, holding them out toward the enthusiastic Gracie.
“Do I know you?” Layna asked, squinting at her. “You look so familiar.”
“She’s the bartender who slapped the shit out of Dezi last week,” Voss supplied. “Maybe she’ll do it again,” he added with a smirk.
“Yes! The hot bartender from Redemption,” Layna said, nodding. “Thanks for saving Gracie from having a wildly successful evening that she would think was somehow ruined by the lack of decorative umbrellas,” she said.
“Is it so bad to want things to be nice?” Gracie grumbled as she worked her nail under the tape on the top of the drink umbrella box.
“It’s perfect,” Willa insisted, patting Gracie’s hand.
“Right, well, ah, that’s done. So I’m…” Theo said, pointing toward the door, then turning to walk through it.
“Tell her to stay,” Gracie mouthed at me, ever the gracious host, not wanting anyone to feel unwelcome.
Not that she needed to tell me. I was already heading in that direction.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I called, following her out across the packed front yard that her long legs had managed to get halfway across by the time I followed behind.