“What’s that accent?” I asked. “South somewhere…” I added.
“Texas,” Voss said, eyeing the stranger.
“No shit?” I asked, smirking. “A cowboy biker?”
“Something like that,” the man said, nodding. “Sutton,” he said, reaching a hand out toward me.
“Dezi,” I said. “That’s Seth,” I said, motioning back. “And that ugly fucker is Voss. So, new prospect?” I asked.
“Something… like that,” Fallon said.
“Okay, keep your secrets, boss man,” I said, shrugging. “Want me to show him the ropes?”
“Does he want your non-rules-following ass to show him the ropes?” Brooks asked, coming in from the kitchen with a coffee. “That’ll be a no. Voss,” he called, nodding his chin at him. “You can show him around when he’s done with Fallon.”
“I’m crushed,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Don’t worry, if we want Sutton to know where all the titty bars and underground clubs are in the area, we know just who to call,” Brooks said.
“Well, at least you know where my strengths lie,” I said. “Alright. I have to catch some sleep. Tomorrow, I need to go see a lady about something furry. And, no, that is not a euphemism for pussy,” I added, getting a chuckle out of Sutton. “Though I do respect all personal grooming choices.”
“Yeah, everyone needed to know that,” Brooks grumbled.
“Brooks, my man,” I said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Can I make an observation?”
“No.”
“You are wound like a fucking top, man. When’s the last time you even got close to some USDA Grade A pussy, huh?”
“Keep talking and I’ll have you on toilet scrubbing duty from now until fucking eternity,” Brooks said, shrugging off my arm and moving away.
“He talks a good talk, but he secretly loves me,” I informed Sutton.
“Must be all that blind hatred making it so hard to see that,” he shot back.
“He is a man of complex, layered emotions,” I agreed.
“Dezi. Get the fuck to bed,” Brooks grumbled, sounding very much tired of my shit.
“Dad’s in a mood,” I said, saluting Sutton. “Catch you around, man,” I said, making my way back to my room.
It wasn’t until I was out of the shower and dropped down in bed that I was able to think past the events of the past few hours.
And back to the bar.
To the office inside of it.
To the woman I was buried inside, the one who’d given me a hint of her soft and sweet. Enough that it made me want more.
I wasn’t confused by that.
I wasn’t off-put by that.
I wasn’t like a lot of the other guys who’d been clueless to their feelings, who had fought hard against the concept of settling down.
To an extent, I think a chunk of my life I spent looking for family. It was why the club had been such an easy decision for me once I heard of them, once I got a feel for their connection.
I’d always known that, eventually, I wanted a woman of my own, someone to come home to instead of just someone to spend the night with. Someone to buy animals for anytime I pissed her off, which I was going to do. You know… because of my personality and shit.
So it wasn’t like a slap upside the head to realize I’d come across a woman who caught my interest. Since that was always the plan someday.
That said, despite my understanding that it was always going to be a part of my future, you could say I was flying by the seat of my pants.
I didn’t know shit about how to be in something more serious than a one-night stand.
I had spent a lot of time around the princesses, though, so I did know a thing or two bout what they did or didn’t like, what they were and weren’t looking for in guys.
So I wasn’t completely clueless.
That said, though, Theo wasn’t like Billie, Andi, Gracie, Luna, or Willa. The softer girls. The sweeter ones. She was more like Vi, Layna, and Hope. The ones with the harder shells. The ones who never really opened up about what they wanted from a man or a relationship because, quite frankly, they just weren’t that interested.
So I was left trying to take the tips given to me by some of the girls and imagine how the other girls would react if confronted with them.
Hopefully, eventually, Theo would take off that tough outer shell. I figured it was going to take some time, and rushing her was probably the worst thing I could do.
So I was going with what I thought would work.
Bribing her with cute shit that would make her feel all soft and warm, in the hopes that some of all that would make its way to me, the provider of the cute shit.
There was time for that.
I wasn’t in a rush.
What there wasn’t a fuckload of time for, though, was to get her to trust me enough to just tell me her story, so I could try to figure out who might want to cut her fucking brake lines.